Lider

El es lider bueno. El es el primer ministro de India. Su madre es una lider famosa. A el le gusta volar aeroplanos. El es inteligente. Nos gusta el lider. Vive con su hija y ek hijo. Estudia en la universidad de Cambridge. Su esposa es de Italia. Ella estudia con el en la universidad. Ella es hermosa. Ella no habla hindi. Habla Italiano. Su nombre es Rajiv Gandhi. El escribe un libro. El planea y evita problemas.

Filetered Vision, filetered logic

The DMK warlord Karunanidhi is an idiot, and it needs no more advertisement for he modeled it all for himself. You don't sit in the lap of you mother and then call her a whore. This is exactly what he did. Who is Ram?Which IIT did he or his engineers go to make that Ram Sethu?

Perhaps he should have had been thankful to the people extolled in our religion or mythology (what many people prefer to call it). If not for these great people, leaders by example, who have taught us the art of patience and forgiveness, he would have been tied to a tree trunk and set afire for his blasphemy. Well we are not like him. We are people who have what we call as brains, not accidentally which Karnuanidhi and many others of his like call and have, if any, for sure, and we use it to think logically and not take everything as it is presented and are not mere fanatics. So we forgive him and he keeps on ranting his jingoistic tunes.

And then there is this group of mahants in Allahabad, Varanasi who have put forth a religious edict for rewarding anybody who brings him Karunanidhi's head. Like begets like. But certainly another fall to correct a fall is not advisable. If we ask for heads so often then we'd be left with many headless torsos and also we are not one of 'those' for whom claiming somebody's head is as routine as say breathing.

But what was surprising in this whole episode was that some people went up in arms against this diktat. If I am not wrong, they said something like we are democracy, nobody can issue such a diktat Plenty of legal cases started in the already overloaded courts.

Where were these people, where were their infallible beliefs in democracy, the whole setup, when somebody asked of the head of the Danish cartoonist, or for Salman Khan to do community service, or when this one lady was asked to marry her father-in-law because the bastard-in-law had raped here and so she was now her husband's mother!!

Termites on any civilization.

Scratch where they feel necessary and meets their own ends. Why don't you guys just simply die or waste away to a horrible death.

I heard Diwali is round the corner. Isn't it time an unknown, a nobody dons the garb of Ram, kills the beast and we celebrate the home coming?

Cry of a famished soul

Disclaimer: This work is purely, to the extent a pure can be pure (like pure Ghee), a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person dead or leaving (Oops! living), any event or place is purely incidental.

I am hungry, famished and starved to be true. Haven't eaten anything since last night, well never actually had breakfast in a long time. It is 12:30 pm and I head for the cafeteria. Okay kind of food, doesn't titillate the taste buds to any extent and has the look of being hygienic.

Now given the fact that India is a 1 billion plus democracy and by the time you read this must be a trillion plus democracy, not discounting the illegal immigrants and those came on visa but lost or missing Pakistanis, crowd is expected everywhere anywhere much before you can expect a molecule of oxygen.

So there's a queue and I simply tag along the tail. Fortunately not many are hungry at this time.

There are just a handful of people before me, shouldn't be long before I can serve myself a belly filling quantity of whatever is on menu today. Taking a big shot, may be.

There is this bunch of ladies ahead of me. Gossiping, a no great guess given their laugh and intermittent "Oh! is it?" "How nice" and all that stuff. There is this gentleman standing in the queue with no acquaintance close by, bidding his time to get a plate for himself. There is this another person happily talking to somebody on the phone.

So here is how the story goes on when people actually reach the point where they can serve themselves something to eat.

1. The gentleman on phone. With the mobile phone safely ensconced between his shoulder and the ear, he picks up the plate, the spoon. but forgets to take the chapatti. Comes back after like half of two seconds, realizing that something is missing is from his plate. A Sheepish smile to the person standing behind him.

2. The guy who was standing all alone, takes half a spoon full of veggie. Takes a moment to think, decides he needs more so he takes a quarter full of spoon and serves more. Still he needs some more, so he serves himself one single instance of that on single identifiable vegetable is that potpourri of vegetables. Same goes for almost all of the things on the menu. Indecisive, or weak in estimation.

3. The ladies of course.
Lady 1: While serving herself a chapatti "Well did you know, yesterday,...."
Others make a funny face and fake a laugh. The one at the last is confused as to how many tissue papers she's need. The one before is busy cleaning every square millimeter of surface on the spoon, the plate and all the utensils thinking the tissue papers are more clean.
Lady 2: Serves herself the veggie, stops, and joins in, "But...." A little more chat when they realize people behind are almost red-faced.

Without warning there is this guy who join in the middle "Excuse me! and serves himself world full of veggies, bucket full of yogurt, pockets full of salad" and is gone before you can "What the *uck do you think you are doing? Jumping in the middle of a queue (well at least in name. Didn't your parent ever taught you some manners or the concept of the queue? Didn't you ever understand the difference in being satiated and over eating? Haven't you ever heard of the saying 'Do to other what you'd like other do to you'."

All this while, I was standing with my cheeks pulled in deep in my skull, my stomach sucked in back all the way towards my spine, I legs have no energy to hold me up. I crumple on the floor, cannot make a sound.

Somebody just stepped over me to get his share of food.

Dogs of God.

I am very much a religious person. I believe in the institution of religion and the faith. But then I cannot understand the fanatics of religion.

Every day of festivity and celebration is a tool in hands of these kind of jerks who make the life of others miserable.

Ganesh Chaturthi came again.

And everything was back to square one.

The length of the access road to my house is just a couple of meters less than a kilometer. Never would have had imagined the enormity of this 1 kilometer, if not for these days. There are 5 pandals which have idols of Ganesh in them. The first person is an ardent follower of the Elephant-head-God and wants the other to know and understand how feverishly he worships the God. The second, person, not to be bogged down by the intensity of the first person’s worship, makes his offerings, chanting of hyms all the more loud and audible. Well the fifth one cannot go beyond the maximum volume the speakers available in the neighborhood can give. Poor chap doesn’t have much of an upper hand.

Also, there is this procession on the road. The traffic policemen have cordoned off the road. If is peak time in the evening, people are returning from offices, some leaving for offices, all the vehicles that were at some time parked are now on the road. The traffic piles up for kilometers; the procession is the fastest to move, rather the only thing moving. The devotees in the procession light fire crackers, who cares if it hurts anybody, God will take care if he wants to and the injured deserved the care. The drums, the loud Bollywood music, did Ganesh ever fancy the Bollywood music especially ‘Aashiq banaya aapne…”. God knows.

And petty mortals like me wait, asphyxiating in the smoke of fire crackers, shove the silencer of the tractor into me ears, pull out my eyeballs and squash it on the road, chew off my own tongue and do what not, apart from holding that urge to take a piss.

And what do others like me do, just pray that either these kind of people go and meet their God before the next year’s Ganesh Chaturthi or the God puts some sense into these nonsense and make them understand worshiping is not about disturbing others.

Key Take away: Whenever you know there is high probability of traffic jam which nobody knows when it will clear, always wear a diaper.

The Spineless creature

This was long due and it had had this coming. This thing doesn’t have any values, shows no sign of being fair, is totally unpredictable but fairly predictable as it arrives every time at the wrong time; a totally spine less being, if we can call it a being, or else, refer it to as a totally spine less ‘X’.

What is that it here? What else the rain.

Yesterday was a horrible day. I was in office until 6 O’clock in the morning fighting the last minute battle, which incidentally started at 7 in the evening the previous day, to fix up a demo for a visiting dignitary. I went back home, took a short nap before the pangs of hunger could wake me up and turn me into a gobble-everything- type monster. Since it was bright and sunny, a must for Ray-Ban kind of day, I didn’t put on my rain proof jacket and was back in my cubicle.

Now the hell is let loose. 4’O clock the bright day suddenly puts on a dark cloak and turns to night. Dark, really dark clouds hover, strong gusts of wind and it starts pouring. Pouring like anything, like there no another chance to pour, this is the only time, the last time, show your might kind of pour.

And Bangalore, Bangalore that it is, where even a leaking pipe causes a traffic jam this was just too much. The traffic comes to a stand still, as if the director of this whole play called "living life on earth" hits the pause control.

Bad, I wanted to leave early and it doesn’t look like I will ever reach home. So I decide to stay back, so some petty job and kill time till the rain rain go away nursery rhyme bears fruits. 9’O Clock, the clouds seemed to have cleared, or it looked so, and I decided to leave for home. I walk to the parking lot, cool breeze flowing, an awesome moment. The moment I kick start the bike it starts to drizzle. Light drizzle or not, it really doesn’t matter much when you have to travel 13 odd kilometers for reach home and especially if you have breathed life to you bike, there are remote chances, if any of turning back.

You speed, you brake, flash head-lights, honk horns, zigzag between the drops of rain or at least try to do so. And you reach home; drenched, from head to toe. The vest sticks to your torso, the jeans feels heavy, the shoes are more like buckets full of water, the only thing wearable is your resolve to reach home. And you reach home.

You open the gate, and the rain stops. Just like that, all of a sudden, just dropped dead, as if the municipality shut down its water supply, as if it was tired, as if its purpose was fulfilled, as if the revenge was taken, as if the non existent day after today suddenly was visible

I was ambushed, tortured, singularly massacred, chopped to pieces, and fed to rats, the left over left to rot.

Call it timing or lack of it. Call it being unpredictability or being predictable but just at the wrong moments, call it fair or call it unfair, but this is how this lousy thing is.

I am a believer and a God fearing person, but then to retain that devotion, belief, fear I need some confirmation some support some sign of being-ness from the other. Why does it have to rain like cats and dogs here, why does it have to rain so heavily in the upper regions of Ganga and Brahmaputra, why does it have to rain so much that there are floods every year in these regions? Why can’t it rain like this in Rajasthan or Sahara or say North Karnataka?

If the Gods haven’t learned anything till now, I have good reasons to believe that will not learn it in near future; say another few thousand zillion millenniums. If it was up to me, the rain God, Indra better not cross my path.

Salsa your way to fun ...

Been too busy off late.

Juggling time between practice, office, practice and parties. And on last Saturday and Sunday it was the big show, performance, workshops and also the competition.

What practice, what performance.

Well we had our annual India International Salsa Congress.


Will write in detail about it in the next post when I am done with all that fatigue and sudden lull after those awesome parties, wonderful and exciting workshops.

To let you savor the moment:




Well we didn't win any prize, just got the participant cup. We were offbeat off and on during the entire song that was played. We lost, no surprise, but our stage presence was good and appreciated. That is the reason why probably we are just in the photo but not in the text. :)

At this point I thank my partner Vandana for bearing me for the practice sessions and surviving the disappointment. Sorry Vandana we lost, I ,for many a times, couldn't find a fix that bloody 1.

We will try next year!

We had plenty of international instructors:

• Eddie, the Salsa Freak
• Knzo
• Rozana Maya
• Maria Del Sol
  
• Ricardo and Vivianna
• Junior and Emily
• The fabulous Swing Guys
• Dave Paris and Zoe Klein
• Akhila Venkatesh
• Alex Diaz
• Ara Hwang
• Katherine Wilson
  
• Deepak and Hazel
• Katyee Namgyal
  
• DJ Joseph Enin
• DJ Gataloca
  
• Anup Thomas
• Richard Tholoor and Sneha Kapoor
• Ashwin Mushran
  

It was a fun event and I eagerly wait for it to happen next. Just with the time flies in fast forward.

.

Foot in Mouth Disease.

"Welcome on board Sir"
"Yeah Hi. Thank you"
"What is you seat number Sir"
"Hmmm... (Flipping the boarding pass) It's 13A."
"That would be towards your left Sir."
"Yeah Sure. Thanks"

She is standing there, holding a pillow to her chest. Ear to ear smile, lots of mascara and other stuff. Eyes gleaming with all the hospitality that can ever exist in a pair of eyes.

"Welcome Sir."
Nod in approval.

"Amm! You have a yellow spot on your shirt (points towards his left shoulder). You might have spilled something on it; pickle or something with turmeric maybe." Looking at her expecting probably a thank you.

Change of expression to a bad one.
Change of expression again to a good one.
"Oh this (removing that pillow)! This is our logo (SpiceJet)."

Damn why did I not notice this before? Was it necessary to be my usual self? What a noble git I am!
Sheepish Smile. "I am sorry I didn't notice this before, first time with Spice"
"Well that fine Sir. Which seat Sir."
"Well I guess you will have to move. Mine is 13 A."
All smiles. "Oh Yes, this is 13A. Sure Sir."

Okay this doesn't happen that often.

An emergency for just that one time!

I am not a sadist. No never been a masochist; never been in the likes of those like Al-Quieda.

But then sometimes, like those times when you get thoughts, because your dreams weigh down upon you, the aspiration for that one moment where you could do that one thing which in usual way of the world you wouldn’t be allowed to do, that one moment of being everybody’s hero; for that one chance of being that one being who could twitch that muscle just when needed never more; and so many of those other just one times.

So it wasn’t usual.

I boarded my flight from Bangalore to Hyderabad. I always take the window seat. The excitement when you can hear the roar of the engines when the pilot puts the thrust to 100% or when the flaps and slats deploy or when the air brakes are deployed is just too big to explain in words; and also that there are just too many people wanting to visit the loo when the whole flight time is itself 45 minutes.

So when I was given my seat though it really didn’t make much of a difference on the boarding pass, but in the aircraft it made all the difference in the world that it could ever make. The seat was as usual a window sear but also happened to be next to the emergency exits on the wings. Now that is a very good place to sit and fly. The seats here provide with the most real estate when it comes to leg room.

So as the Captain welcomed us on-board one of the cabin crew members approached us to explain how to open the emergency exits and that if we feel that we are not competent or comfortable in doing it we can ask for a change in seat. But all these instructions to open the emergency exit came with a rider “DO NOT TOUCH THEM UNLESS THE CABIN CREW YELLS AT YOU FOR DOING SO”. Message registered.

I then so badly wanted some kind of an emergency to happen so that I can just for once operate that.

It is not that simple. The urge to just for once open that emergency door, throw it, let the slides deploy and jump to slide on it. Well not a very noble, “And for the world piece” (hmm sorry peace) kind of a thought. I cannot agree no more. But I never want it to go into an emergency while in flight that is catastrophic. What I really wanted is like, when we touch the tarmac, the main exits would for some reason be jammed and fail to open, for some strange reason the cabin pressurization system would fail, or the lights would go off, something like a failure of Level C software on board. It is an emergency in the sense that the emergency exits have to be opened but at the same time is not catastrophic. No one needs to die. No one even really needs to cry too. All for the sake of that just one time opportunity!

The deam Interview

No matter how many years one has had been in the industry, no matter how many interviews he/she has braved, no matter how many interviews he/she has had taken; it still is a war of that one last breath of peace when it comes to giving an interview.

One of my acquaintances recently had to attend an interview and he had more than 10 years of experience. So when I was visiting him last week, I had to mock the interview panel as questions for his preparation. And all this time during the mock interview he was with his two year old son, trying make him sleep. Well that the best way to prepare for an interview while being under extreme stress. If you can live this you can survive any!

Now that he is geologist and the only thing I know about geology is the way it is spelled most of my questions were “What are your X strengths and weaknesses? Why do you think we should hire you? What makes you stand out from the other N people who have applied?”

More of the HR kind of questions; the only technical question I could ask was “What were your key learnings from the last job? What was the thing in the last job that you think were big, challenging both technically and resource wise and how did you solve then?”

Now that was something. Having been trained in “Interviewing skills” and “Enhanced interviewing skills” and given that I haven’t selected any of the candidates in so many interviews I have taken, and recommending background check for almost all the panel recommended for the next round of interview, I had my own comments on the answers.

Don’t say or stress on “I and hardworking, sincere. Blah Blah. These are all universal truths from any interview candidate. Try to build on your experience, how this varied experience makes you stand out from the crowd. Whatever your weaknesses, they should be the ones on which can work upon and if not then either you should not tell them or mask them as the ones which also work as your strengths.”

So the organization where he had the interview was the one in which his father had worked from the first day to the last day of his entire career. So invariably everybody, the higher ups, in particular knew the candidate, and knew just no casually but personally.

When the day of interview came, the panel had people, who were known to him since childhood, were a distant relative, or had known his cousins. Now that is what I call as a perfect interview panel. Even before you are bombarded with questions you are already comfortable. One of the many must things taught to me in my trainings “Interviews are tests, and like all tests this too makes the candidate envious. Try to make the candidate comfortable. When the candidate is nervous he/she won’t give his best shot.”

Best shot. I think here the candidate was playing on his home ground in front of his home crowd.

So the interview started. “How is your mom? How is your father?” And then the technical questions started.

Now isn’t that a dream interview?? And a scary one too, all those people who know you so well will get an insight on how deep or shallow your understanding of the subject is?

Between the Dollar and the Rupee Tussle

Okay so the Indian currency the Rupee hit an all time high against the overly popular and transacted US currency The Dollar.

While most of the news channels wreaked havoc on the TV with their 24 hour sympathies with the IT companies as appreciated rupee would mean lesser profits; the nicely suited gurus of stock market, who incidentally were never wise when I decided to take their advice prophesied the loss in share price of these major, minor, and still in incubator listed companies, I was already seeing the road ahead. Not the nicely tarred road ahead but the one with drain and rain water all over it which for some reason of perfection fails to hide some of those numerous potholes.


So I was visiting my friend who works in this big IT Company and was surprised to see that what I foresaw was actually not that far!

As the rupee appreciated:

- There was more water in the coffee decoction in the vending machine;

- There was more water in the milk in the vending machine;

- The all time available juices in the canteen disappeared;

- The floor temperature, which I was informed was usually comfortable 22 degrees, was not well beyond 24 degrees;

- Even the liquid soap in the restrooms had more liquid properties than water itself;

- The paper towels, the newer ones, have so much quality inbuilt into it that you cannot pull out one in one piece from the dispenser. The towel dispenser incidentally has “Eco Friendly” plastered on it. Yeah! Why cut trees, use that square inch of towel.

- The lifts, one overly gregarious person told me, are now mostly out of order.


Of all the things what is more worrisome is the coffee. I mean most of the IT guys when they reach office search for one thing, even before booting or logging into their systems, which is, what else, COFFEE!!!!

I am sure the ILO (International Labour Organization) has the right to perfect coffee as one of the basic rights of the IT employees which if you prioritize comes before equal opportunities.

Civilian and Fighter Aircrafts on Road.

DISCLAIMER: This post is purely a fiction, any resemblance to dead or living is purely incidental. No offence meant to any lady or any man.


I have been living with aircrafts both at home and at my office; and I just so much love them.

The place where I live, my house actually a rented place, is very close to the city airport. Another big thing close by is the wind tunnel operated by National Aerospace Laboratory.

My work involves aircrafts too.

I love watching there giants of steel, these behemoths take to sky so easily and land on the landing strip so effortlessly. It is an amazing synched dance of man, metal and machine.

The brain of all the electronics, the effectiveness of all the machinery and the intelligence of the pilot, all with one motive to take to sky and be back all safe and comfortable.

I many a times find myself standing next to the airport boundary wall, with my mouth wide open amazed at the way an aircraft comes to taxiway, moves on the tarmac, and just like a bullet from a gun, shoots on the tarmac. The flaps are all down, the thunderous roar of the engines and as if the gravity fails for that just one split of seconds “Houston we have a lift off!” well take off actually. Sometimes I am lucky to see a MIG or a Jaguar put on its afterburner so that it can take off in the least distance and climb up fast and furious. The afterburners make their presence very much audible to people in atleast 3 Kms radius circle.

And not mention the wind tunnel which when active makes you feel as if there is a traffic jam on the landing strip and all the aircrafts are standing tail to tail, with their engines running waiting for that green signal, each one fighting for that one-upmanship for how loud one’s engines are. The whole neighborhood bears a look like wind has visited is visiting and will stay for quite some time.

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Cleared to fly. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Ok. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Let us kick the tyre and light a fire. Good Hunting. Over. Kachik”

So now where does this lead to?

Well when you are obsessed about things, you kind of see them everywhere. And that is exactly what is happening to me. I see aircrafts or parts of it.

You must have had seen a lot many fair sex on two wheelers, zipping past on their Blaze, Scooty or Pleasure. What you might have also noticed but may not have had related is that whenever they slow down, like the needle on the speedometer touches sub 25 sub 30 Kmph levels, their landing gears come down. The gears are deployed unless the needle pulls up above this 20-30 mark. They will be deployed even if they travel like tens of kilometers at 15 Kmph.

As soon as the brakes are deployed, two legs come out from either side of the two wheeler, much like an aircrafts landing gear and stay on there. So if they stop the landing gears touch the tar, if not then they are still deployed as part of missed approach. Very much like a civilian aircrafts, safety foremost.

Guys on the other hand are like fighter jets. Vrooooom. Vroooooooooom. Honk Honk. Screech. Screech. The landing gears never come down until they are sure that they have to land. Just like fighters aircrafts which can skim the ground, fly as close as say 200-500 feet above the ground, guys will slow down and try to balance as long as they are allowed to and can manage. Their afterburner is their horn. Great maneuverability of zipping in left and right taking sharp turns just so very much like a fighter aircraft.

Glossary
Kachik : The sound made by pressing/releasing the TALK button of the wireless set.

The mosquito that never bites!

It has been a while since this thing is happening to me.


For these last so many ‘whiles’ everybody who has seen me at office, or friends at home or the neighborhood have been saying “Hey what’s up? You look so lost. Is everything Okay?”


And I nod in agreement, trying to say in part that I am still trying to figure out the answer to “What’s up?” as also in agreement that everything is okay and they needn’t be concerned or worried about anything in particular. It is sometimes really strange that something as simple as a nod in agreement is enough to put smiles on just so many faces.


But nevertheless.


So as I was saying, though I nod, for whatever reasons I might do that, I really don’t feel like everything is okay. I am regular at my office, productive with quality, a gregarious friend who calls/meets the friends neighbors all so often, but then something is wrong.


There is this ‘something’ which is going at the back of my mind and the worst part to come is that I don’t what it is. Only if I can figure out what this is I will be able to find a way to solve it and get rid of it. But alas, I am unable to comprehend what is it that’s bothering me? It is there I know. Whenever I am doing something, it runs in the background, just outside the cone of focus and as soon as I realize that there is this something and try to focus on it, it disappears. Like a grain of sand, you don’t know it is in your fist, but the moment you realize it is there and try to contain it in your fist, you just loose it.


It is so annoying and so irritating. Much more irritating than that mosquito, who incidentally never bites you or maybe you really do not care or notice that mosquitoes ever bite you, but hovers around you ear with that “Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn…….. Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn……..” sound and the room is dark and you cannot squeeze the pulp out of him by grabbing in your first and tightening the embrace; and worst of you all you are very sleepy after a day’s long work!
Sometime I feel I am better off having this unhandled trace of thought running in background as a zombie than to try to fight that mosquito.

Mutual Screwing... I screw you... You screw me...

It is a vicious circle; more of co-habitation because of lack of options rather than consensual.

And just why is it a circle? Well what goes around comes around. I screw you, you screw me, simple.

The only difference being that the ‘I’ here has the option of screwing this or that, one among the many (well in many cases one amongst atleast two). But the ‘You’ here does not have that choice of whom he/she/it might choose. There is there only instance of ‘I’ available here. So whose is the one who gets the pleasure or say pain of getting screwed every so often? No prizes for guessing the answer. It is the deplorable ‘I’ here.

Now you guys must be wondering who is the ‘I’ here and who is the ‘You’ here. The ‘I’ here is the crowd, the common people, the aam junta ( the mango people), who choose the ‘You’ here which are the politicians, the corporators, the bureaucrats, the local municipality etc. So you see the ‘I’ here has many options to select from and to who takes the seat, gaddi, of power and screw them. The ‘You’ doesn’t have that luxury hence the ‘I’ has dilated muscles and you know where.

By now I am sure you guys won’t leave me alone until I (this is the real me and not the ‘I’ here) tell you where does this whole theory comes from.

Take an example.

The citizens choose the government, let’s be limited to the local government. Then the citizens ask for improvement of basic infrastructure, basic amenities, parks, clean drinking water, decent walk able footpaths, trees on the sides of the road. Essentially screwing the government, making it do thing which are most likely on the lest priority list; they being busy with milching the citizens, the government machinery to get wot not, trying to do as many nonsensical gymnastics with the law, rules so as to make sure that they get an assured chance the next time they get to the polls.

So this in part explains the ‘I’ screw ‘You’.

Of the many ways the ‘I’ screws ‘You’ (leave the Kamsutra aside) let us focus on one "trees on the sides of the roads footpaths". Now it is the time for the ‘You’ come back and screw the ‘I’. So they plant the trees with the rusted tree guards to guard them when God only knows how long the guards themselves can live the beat of the weather. And just what do they plant? Coconut trees! The ‘I’ here is happy, takes comfort in the pleasure. But the pain follows not too late. The trees grow, the coconuts hang from the tree, ripe full with the coconut milk. Then one day an ‘I’ is on the footpath walking his/her way home, or to where he/she is heading to and BANG! There falls a coconut and the nut is split open in the two halves; both the coconut and the head of this ‘I’.

So this in part explains the ‘You’ screw ‘I’.

Many may argue, "statistics prove that the probability of a falling coconut hitting a person is as low as nothingth of nothing*". Well how many times do we really get to hear from a person explaining that the hump on this head is a result of a coconut falling on him; nothingth of nothing* times! Just because no crimes are logged with the police department does that really mean the area is crime free? Not really.

But then who am I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) to say anything. Both the ‘You’ and ‘I’ are happy and satiated. The max I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) can do is make sure I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) choose the ‘You’ who can screw me in less number of ways or not screw to the ‘You’ and expect the same favor in return.

* Inspiration (Anu Malik's style) from Douglas Adams "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

My, Myself, My Poems!!!

woh hume tarka ke chal diye,
bole kaam hai jana hai.
hum intezaar main baithe hain ,
sadiyaan guzar gayin.
unki tasveer bhi dundhli ho gayi;
voh aayenge isi intezaar main hum,
apani baaki zindagi jee lenge.

Two friends, one father of a new born baby girl, one still single

beti ki sewa main raat aur din dono barabar!
woh uska raat main uthna,
madhur hi awaaz main kutch kahan
humara na sun pana
uska rona
beech raat mera main uthna
zombie ki tarah apne hi ghar main anjaan sa ghoomna
kisi tarah kitchen main pahunch kar doodh garam karna
Office se thake hue ghar aana
beti ko bahon me leke jaise sansaar ka sara sukh sara aanand paan

In sab ka mujhe intezaar hai

What wierd poems?

What wierd Poet?

Tera Khoon khoon, mera khoon pani!!!

When I Take a long time to finish, I am slow,

When my boss takes a long time, he is thorough

When I don't do it, I am lazy,

When my boss does not do it, he is busy,

When I do something without being told, I am trying to be smart,

When my boss does the same, he takes the initiative,

When I please my boss, I am apple polishing,

When my boss pleases his boss, he is cooperating,

When I make a mistake, I' am an idiot.

When my boss makes a mistake, he's only human.

When I am out of the office, I am wondering around.

When my boss is out of the office, he's on business.

When I am on a day off sick, I am always sick.

When my boss is a day off sick, he must be very ill.

When I apply for leave, I must be going for an interview

When my boss applies for leave, it's because he's overworked

When I do good, my boss never remembers,

When I do wrong, he never forgets

I don't know why I feel guilty of spamming my own blog with a forward. :(

Words of Wisdom

Fewer words of wisdom have been in said in lesser words:

Man proposes, God disposes; and either way the woman doesn't agree.

A bike … A mom…. A speedometer … BAM!

No this story is not about a mom pillion riding with her daughter /son on her/his bike and hitting her/him whenever the speedometer needle tries to kiss the 60 Kmph mark.

No this story is not about a lady, somebody’s mom, riding a bike trying to meet a target on the speedometer dial.

This story is about a naïve young boy riding his bike.

So our hero is on his way back from a big mall, one of the most buzzing ones in the city. A mall where as many footsteps fall as there are air molecules in the incoming air.

It was 2 o’clock in the Sunday afternoon. Though there were many people in the mall the roads barely has a soul. With noone on the road, it was expected to be a good ride back home, a much needed break from the daily rush of traffic, those maddening sound of horns. Well a 38 degree Celsius temperature and that too on a Sunday is after all not all that inviting for people to venture out on the roads. The mall had a central air conditioning.

And true to his expectations the road was empty. It was a 4 lane road, a delight to ride, with a Moto Pre kind of chicane in its short life of just under 5 Kms, very right called Inner ring Road. He like it all the more as it allowed him to ride his bike without ever stepping on the brakes. He hated to use the brakes. All his braking was dine by absence of throttle. Good at estimating he used brakes only when he had to come to a complete stop.

With the music from his iPOD ringing in his ears, he upped the volume and kick started his bike. Just one more traffic signal and I’m off for the beauty and then on the beauty.

The throttle was pushed to limits, the wind roared past him. As he zipped past the lone cars, the percussion in his ears ebbed and gave way to a nice saxophone. An aircraft was approaching the nearby landing strip to land. The slim needle touched 60, kissed 80, hugged 100 and stretched for the 105. He knew it was all in the reach; of his, of his bike, of the speedometer needle and within the road’s.

He entered the chicane, an S shaped turn. He entered the first curve, a very smoothly and nicely executed turn. Stayed in the outermost lane all the way, never did he cross the white line; never did any body see his tail light glow. He hated to use the brakes.

A bike … A speedometer …

He entered the second curve which tightly followed the first curve. Switched on his indicator lights and moved on to the outermost lane. He liked that lane, gave him the opportunity to incline his bike as low as possible. Needles to say it was a well maneuvered turn.


Just as he was about to straighten up, there was a cow on the road in his lane.

Never ever had there been a cow on this stretch of the road; with too less time to react, he stepped hard on his read brake, pumped his front brake, simultaneously swerving to avoid the cow. But some distances are just too small.

BAM!! He hit the cow in her stomach. All the way he went from his seat and landed on his petrol tank. Must have had braked quite hard. He doesn’t remember what happened to the cow, the animal was trying to get up some 7 feet away.

He started his bike and went on.

Not a feeling.

Speed thrills but mostly kills.

We all have had read this somewhere, everywhere, though never understood in totality the meaning nor did we ever cared about it unless we have a near ‘kills’ experience.

Only if the cow could have known about this and had not been on the road, the animal would have had been much better.

Someone somewhere said “How disgusting! You hit a cow. Cow is like our mother.”

Another replied “Then keep you mom at home, why do you let her roam on the road like this?”

…. and hence the mom.


Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or dead is incidental.

Wrong Maths.

Somebody at Microsoft didn't do his Maths homework at school.

From Friend to Friend

Ok So this is funny. And if it ain't funny to you tickle yourself. All the communication happens over e-mails.

Friend 1:

Spam mail (usually a forward) with plenty of e-mail IDs in the CC List. One of her friend is in the CC list.

Friend 2:

(Reply) Ok so now my turn to ask questions. Who are the following girls? Settled/engaged or available?

Friend 1:

Mote…. Kaam se kaam rakho :)

English Translation (The smiley too) :

Fatso…. Mind your business :)

Friend 2:

Vohi to kiya.
Aur mote kise kaha, you .. you... lady finger! Hugh.

English Translation (Note no smiley thsi time) :

That's what I did.
BTW whom did you call fatso, you .. you... lady finger! Hugh.

Lady finger??? probably out of ideas. Anyways

Friend 1:

Mote mote mote

English Translation (No smiley again)

Fatso fatso fatso

Friend 2:

Yeh tumne accha nahin kiya,
Yeh tumhe nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to ....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe panga nahin lena chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe aag main haath nahin dalna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe bail (bull) se nahin kahna tha aa mujhe maar,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe mujhe phone karne par majboor nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe phone par mujhe ladne ke liye majboor nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

English Translation:

You lazy fellas, do something on your own. This is too long for me.

.

Family and Friends ...

When the waves are high,
When the sea is rough.
Shed no tear,
Have no fear.
It is time to buckle up.
Be tough.
The sea wasn't calm always,
It just having fun,
Just for today.

Your family is the raft,
Your friends are the sail.
With this raft and sail,
You will not fail,
For sure you would sail.

But raft and sail know no sea,
They know no wave,

But Remember

Author: Can a poem have some chorus? Like Here ... Sure

Reeeemember. Buuuuuuuuttt
Rememmmmmberrrr
Know no sea, know no sea
Know no wave, know no wave
Family and friends, raft and sail
Family and friends, raft and sail
But Remember


They only know
To keep you afloat,
You know the sea,
You see the wave,
Call upon
Your family and friends,
'Cos they will save.
You know the sea,
You see the wave,

But you need to call,
And call you should.
They are high waves,
Not a high wave.
Call you should and
Call you must
Just whisper;
"I need you. Are you there?"

The big raft,
That huge sail.

Kids... One too many... One too less...

I love kids. There are so many of them in my family and they are all dear to me. And so are the kids of my friends. They are the best beings to have around you. They give so much of a relaxing, rejuvenating feeling to anybody around them. No matter how much tired one is but as soon as there are kids around, you have tones of “Red Bull” in you. Their untiring series of “Whys, Whats, Hows” are one amazing thing.

But given all this, there are some things which are ….. well read on.

What is it? Why is it?

Scene 1, Take 1.

You are watching a very interesting movie, a very captivating documentary on NGC/Discovery. And it is time for their favorite cartoon, which has a stupid looking railway engine talking to other engines in the most unanimated way. Then there is this “Blues Clues” where an over excited grown kid of late 20s teaches what alphabets, shapes, colors are. If you insist on not switching the channel, there is wailing and if the kid is smart like my younger niece you get blackmailed "I’ll complain to grandpa". Since the kid doesn’t know or more likely will not change channel on his/her own, you have kill your curiosity/interest by your own hands and say "Ahhh! Okay."

Disclaimer: It another story that once you start watching these you too get a hang of it and start enjoying it for the sheer simplicity of these cartoons. After all "Tom and Jerry" is never boring.

Scene 1, Take 2.

That tricycle. That one tricycle. Why do they have to make is so small and so low. They could atleast have a bar which rises all way until say 3 feet so that you easily push it.

Kid wailing, kid sits in the tricycle, more of wailing at high pitch, cannot push tricycle, you push it, get a backache.

Scene 1, Take 3.

The kid knows you have a back ache, you are lying down on the bed trying to get some sense into that back. “Does it hurt?” Yes. “Is it bad?” No, don’t worry I’ll be okay. “Shall I give you massage?” That’s not necessary, thank you. “No you need one.”

And then you can feel the whole Roman army, with as many soldiers as there were in the entire lifetime of the civilization, march on you back not to mention the those so many hooves of cattle, horses and maybe sometimes elephants.

Back ache. Make a line shorter by drawing next to it a line linger that it. I am all right, “pink of health!”

Scene 1, Take 4.

“I’ll ask you a question? There was a brown house, next to it is the green house, behind it is the black house, in front of it is the pink house, and above it is the grey house. Tell me where is the white house.”

Hmmm…. Hmmmm. Pretending to think. Hey, there wasn’t a white house anywhere. Oh! Wait. Yeah, it is in Washington DC.

“Geee. You got it, now your turn.”

There were two friends Nobody and Anybody. Anybody had a cousin Somebody. Once Nobody calls Anybody:

Tring…. Tring…. (… yeah the joke goes with the sound
effects…)
“Hello”
“Hi, is Anybody home?”
“No”
“Who’s
this?”
“Somebody. Who’s
calling?”
“Nobody”
“Nobody!”
“Yeah. Well when Anybody comes let him know Somebody had called. Bye”

Haaaa….. Haaaa… Why are you not laughing?
I got all confused. What was the joke?
That was the joke my dear.

And you embrace the kid, hug her/him and both laugh.

Now these are those some things which are indispensable and I just so wish there were many kids around or may be the kids always stay as kids.

Not too much to wish I gues.

Twice in Day.

Scene 1:

Post Lunch Session at office.

At the door of my floor.
Placed the Access Card close to the 'Sniffer', the drug addict.
No Beep, the LED doesn't glow green
Doesn't work. Placed it really close. Beep! LED is green.
Pushed the handle of the door and opened it.
Comes running a colleague, named rather nick-named 'Ram'.
Customary, rather more as routine given I know so many people.
"Hey Ram!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wanted to say it thrice and drop dead.




Scene 2:

10:00 pm Returning back from work.
Standing at an intersection, the traffic signal is red, "Oh! I have buy sugar morning's Horlicks was tasteless."
Parked my bike in front of the depratmental store close to my house.
Short stop, didn't take off the helmet, just lifted the visor.
At the counter, kept the bag of 1Kg sugar and the change.
The attendent gave the receipt, fetched a carry bag.
Stopped.
"Sir, are you on bike or a car?"
Wearing a sheepish look : "Car. As for the helmet I drive my car wearing the helmet. Extra Safety."


------------------------------------------------------------------------

I should have had said it thrice and dropped dead. Too late now.

The Apple-Bush's iRack

What has Apple (read Steve Jobs) and George Bush have in Store for all of us


http://www.glumbert.com/media/irack

It is OK

Ok, so now it is official; allowed by the political brass and the religious clergy of all religions. No more debates on whether it should be allowed or not; no more haggling on how much sin it would be to go the way nature, and also God, most probably in the view of those who know more, never mandated one should go. The shows on Discovery and National Geography Channel have shown that this behavior is normal in all living beings, beings here were animals though and human beings are way above them.

Hooray! Now we can be and are permitted to be gay, gay not as in fun and gaiety, but gay as in “Someone who practices homosexuality; having a sexual attraction to persons of the same sex”.

But there’s a catch. We are not allowed to be ‘gay’ in our lives beyond the 8 hour office hours. We are allowed to be gay only in office and just why so? Well haven’t you heard of the word office spouse?

Now given that the sex ratio in general of the entire population inhabiting this country is a dismal low figure, the chances of you having a female office spouse is less, unless of course if you work in either Infosys, TCS or Wipro (no offence), who hoard all the females just as they are about to enter the world of working population, where your chances are bright.

It has been more than three years in my company and I have moved around 3 teams and how many females did I have in my team of be a straight guy at office and have ‘natural’ office spouse, none.

So it is finally bestowed upon all of us to be ‘gay’, gay as in fun and gaiety ...

... and I didn't miss that not there!

Reality after a Nightmare

I saw him, my manager. He was standing in the corner sipping his hot cup of coffee. And yes that one cup of hot morning coffee can make your day.

As I pour myself a cup of coffee, I walk towards him.

"Good Morning. How was your morning?"

"Good. So how's life?"

"Till now life's treating me."

"Good."

"I want to go onsite for a long assignment."

"Why what happened suddenly? You are just back from you last trip. How many months since you came back?"

"Eight. If not a long assignment then short ones back to back would do."

"Talk to me."

"No its just that I want to buy some more stuff. You get it cheap over
there in US."

A loud laugh, "Is that the truth?"

"No. My parents are pushing me to get married."

There's no more coffee.

Vella-Time's Day

Hey Fellas,

Hope you had a good "Vella-time's" Day.


Those who have girl-friends, are on the road.

Those who had girl-friends are out boozing

Those who never had girl-friends are glued to TV.

Why is the census so scary? Every year year over year...

Nightmares of a Bachelor

It has been a wonderful day since morning and I look forward to it being the same way until its time to go to bed.

The ‘now’ is as good as it could ever be.

I am dancing with a lovely lady to the tunes of Salsa music; we both look into each other’s eyes enjoying the music, the dance and the company of each other.

Ah! There’s this cupboard on my right with its door wide open. The door has a glass on it, just like the so many 'glass covered wall panels', so that the entire dance floor looks like one huge room, where ever you see you see some reflection of something. It is good to have one, just in case if you do not enjoy dancing with your current partner or if he/she isn’t that good looking you can look/stare at so many others present.

Anyways, the door is wide open and there is every likelihood that my lady, in course of doing those multi spins, might bump into it and hurt herself and hurt herself real bad.

So I excuse myself, slide towards the door and close it.

The lady is happy and I am back on the dance floor. Through the dance I comb her hairs with my head, taking my hand from her forehead into her hairs to her neck adn over her shoulders, with her hand flowing my hand; not that she needs any combing but that it is a step in that combination, a way to unlock the hands.

“Oh My God!” she screamed.

She had looked at her reflection in one of those numerous not hard to find mirrors.

There was blood on the forehead, on her hairs, on her neck and on her shoulders. I panicked, “You are bleeding! Are you hurt?” While I talk and gesticulate, my palms faced the ceiling and she saw it.

There was a big gash on my right thumb, blood was flowing freely and while combing hairs I had accidentally smeared her forehead, her hairs, her neck and her shoulder with my blood.

While closing the door, I had hurt myself.

A scene so beautifully lifted from those numerous Remember Me Not Bollywood flicks.

I took her to wash room so that she could wash off all that blood and I tied my handkerchief around the gash.

Then it was a field day for all the other females present there on the dance floor.

“You’ve got married to him! The filmi style… ”

I was sweating, breathing hard, wheezing, out of breath. I have pain in my left shoulder. I hear a horn in the background.

I wake up; my t-shirt drenched in my sweat, a car takes a turn somewhere.

A scary dream. A Nightmare.

The flying "Indian Railways of 80s"

Ooops! I did it again.

Well I have flown with these guys for at least 5 times if not more and all those 5 times my experience has been like, I better not talk.

It is the flying Indian Railways, but the railways of the 80’s.

So what happened this time? My brother had come over to Hyderabad from Nigeria after more than 1 year, and Jan 12, 2007 being a long weekend, yes we a day off on Jan 15 for Pongal/Sankranti.

I thought if I book an early evening flight to Hyderabad I can have a nice evening with my nephew and my niece; and the only flight available was of this flying Indian Railways of the 80’s. They say “We are a low cost airline.” Indeed they were a low cost airline this time; where the others were two to three times costlier than this. And this is where I made the mistake and I did it again.

So my flight departs on Jan 12, 1800 hours. On Jan 11, 2020 hours I receive an SMS that my flight has been rescheduled to depart at 2250 hours. Well rescheduling is acceptable if it is due to unforeseen circumstances. And unforeseen are... you know unforeseen. If you get an "unforeseen" 24 hours before the actual, then is it actually foreseen? I guess... Ummmm... Not. It is turning a blind eye to make it not seen but unforeseen. But then who am I to say that, Captain Gopinath and his well trained staff knows it better.

Anyways, I leave office in time to reach the airport and just as I am about to board the taxi, my mobile phones buzzed. “The flight has been rescheduled to depart at 2325”
A flight which had to depart at 1800 hours was rescheduled to depart at 2020 hrs and then rescheduled again to depart at 2325 hours.

Man there is something seriously wrong somewhere. And I feared the worst. May be they’ll keep on rescheduling it again and again and I’ll see my return flight make a landing.

Nevertheless I board the taxi and head for the airport. Whatelse to do, I thought.

As if all this was not enough; to add to my woes while I stand in the queue to take my boarding pass the bloody server goes down. 20 minutes we stand there doing nothing cursing that moment when we all book the tickets with this “Flying Indian Railways of the 80s”. There were many like me, some regulars and some irregularly regular.

And this one gentleman is so furious that when he finds the lady on the other side of the counter free, starts blasting her. The most humorous thing he said was"

“Why do you charge airport tax to us?”

Some reply which was insignificant

“Why? Don’t you guys pay Airport Authority of India the taxes for using the Bangalore airport? Have they banned you from using the airport? Do you do online transfer just when you are about to land and this time the server like this bloody one here has failed and you cannot transfer the money or is that you cheque bounced.”

Man I was on the floor laughing, rolling from side to side, the spasms in the stomach getting the better of me; and I laughed so hard, so loud that the guy probably forgot his anger and then thought for a while and then started to laugh too. I couldn’t help but say “Maybe they carry the cheque with themselves and now were have a chicken and egg situation.”

He for sure didn’t get that, for he was part looking for the chicken and part waiting for that egg to pop up from somewhere. Anyways if you guys didn’t get that let me explain

“They have the cheque with them and they are in the air. They can give the cheque only when they land and they cannot land until they give the cheque”

Whatever.

They got the paper on which they print the boarding passes and started scribbling on it.

Then came running a lady, who looked like she was from China, or that region, you know what I mean they all look the same. She waited in the queue, unknown to her that the queue will take a long time to even consider the notion of moving. Seeing that nobody moved she moved ahead and stood besides me. We Indian are very helpful people. So I told her “You see the Server is down, probably the link somewhere is down or that their switch has been stolen.”

She did see I use Colgate. Raising her eyebrows she made a sorry face “I heard the announcement that… ”. I thought since when did they start announcing ‘May I have your attention please (what else do I have left?) our server is down because we forgot pay our electricity bills and they have disconnected the power lines to our office. We apologize for the inconvenience caused.’

Back to where she left “… we can carry only one cabin luggage. I have two I have to check in one”. Sure go ahead, talk to that guy on the counter and he will be happy to help you. Not that they usually say so or are really happy doing so, but now for sure they would be or else they will have to put up with the angry customers.

So we got the boarding passes and moved to the Security Check.

You fight a skirmish and you are a hero. You fight a battle and you are revered by all. You fight a war and you are a national hero.

Time to walk towards the Security Check and move on to the boarding lounge.

Ok so he is in queue. He … he and he … he too. Here the queue turns, here again it turns. It spirals inward in ever decreasing radius. I follow the queue moving in opposite direction... where the heck does it end? I raise my arm in disgust and say it loud “Where does this God damn queue end?” Of all the people standing there who hear my plea, this one guy listening to his I-Pod removed his earphones and said “There’s the last guy”. That was for the loudness.

Where I stood, the queue has already spiraled four times. There were at least 150 + lives being wasted in a never ending queue. I so badly wish the guys in charge, the AAI authorities and the politicians have to stand in this queue for 1 hour like I did.

Better they commit suicide, that will save so many lives.

I am scared. Really scared. With these many people how thoroughly can the security personnel manning the X-Ray machine scrutinize the baggage and the harassed travelers.

“Passengers traveling through ‘I am sure you hate it” flight to
Hyderabad are requested to move to Gate 2 for boarding.”

Finally I am in. The airline has free seating. It is like the general compartment of the railways. You sit where you find a seat. Thank God they don’t overbook or some body will have to stand and travel or foot-board travel. I take the first available seat and wait for the aircraft to take off.

There some commotion in the back. A guy approaches the Cabin Crew in-charge then talks to the pilot. I later figured it out that there was this guy on board who was so badly drunk that he didn’t know the difference between the seat and the arm rest and tried to squeeze the arm-rest so that he could sit comfortably; squeeze it where? The moral police is watching and I better say no more than I already have.

The security arrives, the Air Hostess talks something, they walk all the way back and talk to the drunk, the pilot comes and talks some sense to the nonsense, they talk, discuss, talk talk and discuss again. I heard the security say to the Air Hostess ‘If you say we can take him off the flight’. ‘No it is okay’

The security instructions about how to put on the seat belt, tighten it or loosen it, the emergency exits, the lights, the oxygen masks, the instruction booklet and of-course “Do not steal the life jackets, we will not be able to provide you with low cost services if you do so”

All this while it is hot inside, they haven't put on the AC I guess.

“Cabin crew prepare for takeoff”

“Cabin crew to their stations for takeoff”

I peak up the music on my I-pod, take out my laptop and start writing this post. I check my watch its 0100 hours of Jan 13, 2007 for a flight which had to depart at 1800 hours on Jan 12, 2007.

“Chai-Chai- samosa…”

The trolley moves in the aisle. A lady purchases a fruit juice at price so high I cannot even jump and grab it. An old fella buys water.

Later in next few weeks I read in paper that Air Deccan has made profit. And I need not wonder why?

The landing... finally at 0200 hours. I am tired, hungry, thirsty, pissed off, angry, irritated and I can go on about how I was feeling.

I am sure this is the strategy of Air-Deccan. Put the scheduled departure time at convenient times, most likely in the evenings, so that people buy the tickets. As soon as they buy the ticket message them that the flight is rescheduled, most likely at the dinner time. If he cancels the ticket they still earn some money. If not, all the better. Just 2 hours before the departure message them that the flight has been rescheduled to even later time in the night. People reach airport get the boarding passes and seeing the long queues every where, even in the loo, they stand in one of the lines. Note that the passenger hasn’t found time to have something to eat or drink, no one wants to stand a stupid queue for any long than necessary.

Since the queues are long you end up standing in the queue for boarding once you are done with the security check. Note that the passenger hasn’t found time to have something to eat or drink, no one wants to stand a stupid queue for any long that necessary.

The passenger, so much thankful to the entrepreneur, takes a sigh of relief and takes his seat. But the pangs of hunger and thirst start bothering him; and then (s)he sees the bottled water, samosas, biscuits in that trolley. What do they do, they buy the stuff at prices they would never otherwise buy; and some like me take a vow to never do anything which will make this bastards make money.

But I thank them that they haven’t yet put a charge on using the toilets in the aircraft or for using the toilet/tissue paper. At least for now I can relieve myself in peace.

By the way, have you ever notices their mascot ‘The Common Man’ by R.K. Laxman. He carries a basket which has the Air Deccan logo of ten fingered birdie in it. And Air Deccan is very much like it. Just like the common man doesn’t know when the birdie will leave the bag and fly off, the entire country doesn’t know when the flight will finally take off.

Air Deccan. Low cost unpredictable services at the terrible cost of
spoilt plans…

I here by take a vow to never ever travel with you guys.

Shit!... It is the Big Boss

I do not have a television. I do not even have a radio. How do I entertain myself? Well I read books, listen to music and play games on my laptop to name a few.

Had read a lot about Big Brother in the newspaper in last few weeks, some kind of reality show. A rather popular show and like all popular Western stuff had its own copy stuff here back home called Big Boss.

Never had actually seen an episode of Big Boss.

But This Saturday, when I was visiting my friend he was hooked to the TV “It is the Big Boss Grand Finale” and I stayed on to see the show.

My votes??

“Crap. Tuck loads of it. Airbus 380 jumbo loads of shit.”

I was really hurt to see how Arshad Warsi, my friend, and plenty of others had savored the entertainment served to them; making fun of the feelings of people in there, in that house for three months. Reality Show! What reality and where’s the reality?

I feel pity of Anupama Verma (She had long back featured in a Jackie Shroff movie.) Aryan and Anupama had sparks flying between them and when it was all reduced to dying embers it became the fire place where others could take the warmth of… Ah! Entertainment.

What happened to other stuff? Like “Hey! You were friendly to others. You were always there to help others. You were real non-sense but yes we enjoyed it a lot. Hadn’t it been for you comic, life there would have had been so boring.” The only thing that was talked was “You and you were so close.”

Arshad Warsi, asking Aryan, how’s life, how’s this “Aur kaisa hai, who kaisa hai” and with particular emphasis “Aur woh kaisa hai?” Are you nuts man? That lady sitting there has been hurt, her feelings trampled upon, you can feel her pain when she said that she doesn’t talk about here personal life in public and doesn’t want to talk about it. It hurts her family more than it hurts her. You kind of get the hint but cannot refrain from wandering there again and again.

I really felt bad about what happened to Anupama out there. You very rightly said

“I thought it was reality show, thinking that the people will be their normal selves as they are out there in the real world. But I was wrong people were playing games here; playing games with people’s emotions, people’s feelings.”

No matter who ever hurts you remember lady that he/she was never worth the effort of feeling bad of crying. Just what you said.

As somebody wise had said:

“Kisi ka rona, kisi ka tamasha”

(somebody’s tears somebody’s entertainment).

The evergreen melodious songs of past.

A long weekend, 3 days at a stretch and you know why and how much I hate them some times.

A set of peaceful 3 days.

I listened to old, very old, Hindi music. Lay in the bed for so long that I did not feel like sleeping in the night. Doing all the laundry and ironing then, while the soft music played in the background. It is four o’clock in the evening and its time for Salsa.

And what’s better that your partner (just a dance partner so you don’t roll you eyes now) doesn’t want you to dance with another lady.

Get up in the morning the next day, Sunday, make a cup of hot tea (I love tea and have a quarter of a liter at one go) read the Sunday newspaper, first line to the last. Walk around the house relishing my loneliness with Manna Dey , Rafi, Mukesh, Suraiya and the other of the same league singing their best in the background.

Its four o’clock again and it is time to shake a leg.

Some of the songs I listened in this long weekend:

- Aawaz de kahan hai tu, duniya meri jawan hai…
- Yahoo! Chahe koi mujhe jungle kahe
- Bedardi Balama tujhko mera man yaad karta hai
- Chod gaye balam, mujhe hai akela chod gaye
- Khuda kare ke kayamat ho aur tu aaye
- Jhuka Ke Sar ko phooncho (Satre – pe –Satta)
- Masti Bhara hai sama, hum dono hain yahan
- Gori ka Sajan, Sajan ki Gori, lo ji shuru ho ayi love story (really cool English LOL)
- Teri Bindya Re, re aaye haye teri bindya re
- Kisi ki muskurahaton pe ho nisaar, kisi ki dard mil sake to le udhaar
- Phool Tumhe Bheja hai Khat main, phool nahin mera dil hai
- Yeh Dil , yeh pagal dil mera. Kyon bhuj gaya aawargi.
- Hum Bewafa hargiz na the, par hum wafa kar na sake
- Aye malik tere bande hum, aise hon humare karam
- Itni shakti hume dena data, man ka vishwas kamzoor ho na
- Dil Tadap Tadap ke kah raha aa bhi ja tu hum se aankh na chura
- Kya janoo sajan, hoti hai kya gum ki shaam. Jal uthe sau diye, jab liye tera naam
- Jab bhi koi kangana bole, pyal chanak jaye, soi soi dil ki dhadkan sulag sulag jaye
- Dil diya hai jaan bhi denge aye vatan tere liye
- Toote hue khawabo ne, humko yeh sikhaya hai, dil ne…. dil ne jise paaya tha aankhon gavayan hai.
- Yeh zindagi usi ki hai, jo kisi ka ho gaya, pyar hi main kho gaya
- Yeh dekh ke dil jhooma, li pyar ne angdaayi … deewana hua badal
- Magar –e- haseena –e- bekhabar, jara dekh chupke se idhar
- Suhana Safar aur yeh mausam haseen
- Jis gali mein tera ghar na ho balma, us gali se hume to guzarna nahin
- Aye dil hai mushkil hai jeena yaha, jara hat ke jara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan
- Sar jo tera chakraye, ya dil dooba jaye, aaja pyare paas humare, kahe ghabraye
- Hume aur jeene ki chaahat na hoti, agar tum na hote
- Aane vala pal jane vala hai
- My heart is beating keeps on repeating. I’m waiting for you. My love encloses a lot of roses…
- Usha Uthup – Hari Om Hari
- Yeh raat aur yeh doori, tera milna hai jaroori, ki dil mera dhak dhal dole…
- Aa ab laut chalein,
- Chingari koi bhadke to sawan use bujhaye sawam jo agan lagaye use kaun bhujaye…
- Main to kab se khadi ek baar ki ankhiyaan
- Aaaj sanam madhur chandni main hum tum mile to veerane main aa jayegi bahaar…
- Lakdi ki kathi, kathi pe ghoda, ghode kid um pe jo mara hathoda…
- Teri pyari pyari surat ko kisi ki nazar na lage, jash-me-baddoor….
- Jo vada kiya woh nibhana padega, roke zamana chahe roke khudai ...
- Bichua ... Peepal chaiyaan, abithi pal bhar, dhar ke gagariya… das gaya paapi bichua…
- Zindagi milke bitayenge, hale dil ga ke sunayein-ge....
- Kaun hai jo sapno main aaya, kaun hai jo dil main samaya, jo jhuk gaya aasma bhi ishq mera rang laya....
- Jhilmil sitaroon ke aangan hoga, rimjhim barasta hoga sawan hoga...
- Jaai-ye aap kahan jaayen-ge, yeh nazar laut ke fir aayegi...
- Tasveer teri dil main, jis dil se utaari hai, fir tujhe sang leke ...
- Pathar ke sanam, tujhe humne mohabat ka khuda jana....
- Dushman na kare dost ne woh kaam kiya hai...
- Kisi na kisi se kabhi na kabhi, kahin na kahin dil lagan padega...
- Ramiya vasa-vaiya, main dil tujhko diya...
- Ello ji saman hum aa gaye, aaj fir dil leke, ab itna bhi na gussa karo nahin jani.. yeh khoya khoya mausam pawan diwani… (too good a song)
- Dhadkan jara ruk gayi hai…. Kahin zindagi bah rahi hai....
- Madhuban main radhika nahe re, girdhar ki muraliya baje re...
- Dilbar dil se pyara, dil ki suntan ja re, sari duniye hari humse hum tujh pe dil hare….
- Pyar hua ishq hua ( The great Raj Kaporr, Nargis song)
- Kutch to log kahenge…
- Sheesha ho ya dil ho toot jata hai…
- Bahut shukriya, badi maharbani, meri zindagi main huzoor aap aye…
- The memorable guitar in Karz, Ek haseena thi…
- Javed Akhtar – Jab tum yaad aaye…
- All time favorite – Dukki pe dukki ho ye satte pe satta….
- Yeh rat yeh chandi fir kahan … sun ja dil ki dastaaan
- Chandan sa badan, chancel chitvan…
- Pyar kiya to darna kya??
- Raat kali ek khwaab main aayi aur gale ka haar bani ...
- Jahan main jati vahin vchale aate ho , chori chori mere dil main samate ho, yeh to batao ki tum mere kaun ho …
- Pukarta chala hoon main, gali gali bahar ki, bas ek chaaoon julf ki….
- Ek Pyar ka nagma hai…

My all time ever favourite
“Tum ne woh kya dekha jo kaha deewana, humko nahin kutch samajh jara samjhana….
Pyar main jab bhi aankh lad jaaye, tab dhadkan aur beechaini badh jaye…
Jan koi ginta hai ratoon ko tare…. tab samjho use pyar ho gaya pyare…
Pyar hume kis mod pe le aaya…”

And last but not the least, the great Lata song:
“Aye mere vatan ke logon, tum khoob laga lo nara,
yeh shubh din hai hum sabka,
Lahra lo Tiranga pyara,
par mat bhoolo,
seema par veeron ne hai pryan gavayin,
kutch yaad unhe bhi karlo… Jo laut ke ghar na aayee..”


And my songs are still not done... there are more.
I am sure the golden days of bygone years must have come fresh in your mind. These are the evergreen songs and I have made multiple copied of them, you know redundancy in a fail safe system.

Vivo en Bangalore

Descrption

Vivo en Bangalore. La ciudad es fria. Las calles de la ciudad son sucias y angostos. Las calles son ruisodes tambien. La ciudad tiene casas. Las casas son muy gandes. Hay muchos hotels. Los hoteles son costosos. Busco una casa en mi tiempo libre. El aeropuerto de la ciudad es grnade pero esta muy lejos. El aeropuerto es ruisodo. Hay muchos autobuses en las calles de la ciudad. Los autobuses son viejos. Muchos autobuses estan rotas. Las personas de la ciudad son amables. Son felices y orgullosas. Los personas caminar en los jardines. Los jardines de la ciudad son hermosos. La ciudad es muy hermosa los fines de semana. A mi familia le gusta la ciudad. Viene Bangalore en deciembre o jenero. Vive en Lucknow. Nuestro casa en lucknow es muy grande. Nuestro casa tiene un jardin. Hay muchos las plantas enstan en la jardin. Mi madre y mi padre les gustan plantas.