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. :(
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
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.
Monday, May 21, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
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:
Friend 2:
Friend 1:
Friend 2:
English Translation (Note no smiley thsi time) :
Lady finger??? probably out of ideas. Anyways
Friend 1:
English Translation (No smiley again)
Friend 2:
English Translation:
.
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.
.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
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.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
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.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
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
http://www.glumbert.com/media/irack
Thursday, March 08, 2007
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!
Friday, February 16, 2007
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.
There's no more coffee.
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.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
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...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
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.
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 ‘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.
Monday, January 29, 2007
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"
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.
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.
I here by take a vow to never ever travel with you guys.
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??
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
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:
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.
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.
Friday, January 05, 2007
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.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Being spied upon....
My sincere apologies to all those who visit and take a nap while they read this blog.
I have been off blogging for last couple of weeks. I was hiding in my rabbit hole.
No I was not mimicking any Saddam Hussain's capture episode.
For last 2 months I have been observing events that have been happening around me. I have had come to a conclusion that the secret agencies of the world CIA, KGB, MOSSAD even ISI are snooping on me. I don’t know the agencies in Africa but I am so sure that they are also involved. I feel they all have together initiated a Jehad against me. I don’t know for what reason. I haven’t been involved with anything sinister but still they chose to target me. If the Vajpayee government could fool CIA and do a nuclear test, I am sure I can also evade the eagle’s eye.
How do I know that they all are spying on me?
Well I never discuss my personal issues with anybody, anybody. But even then they know of my financial problems. Every day I get tons of mails from unknown people offering me a part of their fortune. How did they get to know that I need what they have? How come the Barclay’s Bank, wherever it is, knows that I need money and sends me mail that I need to give them my bank number identification number so that they can transfer millions in my account?
Did I say millions? Yes I did. How can a bank offer millions to an unknown person, unless the whole act is a concerted show of these intelligence agencies that have each put in a substantial amount to pay for those millions on the platter and for the pay of that guy who sends me those mails?
They are after me, which I can digest, thanks Hajmola, although with great resentment and disbelief. But can one justify that just to pin me down they have gone a killing spree, slaying so many millionaires. Every now and then some millionaire has dies somewhere, and the next of kin wants to disburse, read siphon off, the fortune and needs my help to divert the funds giving my share of 20-30% of the amount. The amount in question is billions of USD, yes USD.
Since I haven’t replied to any of those mails and fall in the trap laid by these nasty people, they have resorted to mental torture to make me com e out of my rabbit hole. I do not and will not. I have come out form my den just to let then know that I am a warrior and will not give in. Even the torture that have befallen upon me won’t weaken me. These people have started a rumor campaign, like the “Get well soon Lucky.” questioning the extent of my masculinity. Trillions of people who I don’t know have been up day in night out to suggest cheap drugs or good one at cheaper rates like Viagra. I want to tell all those people just one thing, “Go and ask you mum and sis”. What do you ask is entirely on you. But to get the right answer one has to ask the question and that is all that I have to say about that
I better finish and go back hiding. It is about time these guys will come and start sniffing the whole network for any sign of me. In the meantime I would invite everybody who been a victim of this organized crime to fight for their right and not give up.
Vahe Guru Ji ka khalsa, Vahe Guru Ji ki fatah.
And the warrior ran straight into the enemy killing them like flies……..
Jara aaankh main bahr lo pani, jara yaad karo kurbani…..
I have been off blogging for last couple of weeks. I was hiding in my rabbit hole.
No I was not mimicking any Saddam Hussain's capture episode.
For last 2 months I have been observing events that have been happening around me. I have had come to a conclusion that the secret agencies of the world CIA, KGB, MOSSAD even ISI are snooping on me. I don’t know the agencies in Africa but I am so sure that they are also involved. I feel they all have together initiated a Jehad against me. I don’t know for what reason. I haven’t been involved with anything sinister but still they chose to target me. If the Vajpayee government could fool CIA and do a nuclear test, I am sure I can also evade the eagle’s eye.
How do I know that they all are spying on me?
Well I never discuss my personal issues with anybody, anybody. But even then they know of my financial problems. Every day I get tons of mails from unknown people offering me a part of their fortune. How did they get to know that I need what they have? How come the Barclay’s Bank, wherever it is, knows that I need money and sends me mail that I need to give them my bank number identification number so that they can transfer millions in my account?
Did I say millions? Yes I did. How can a bank offer millions to an unknown person, unless the whole act is a concerted show of these intelligence agencies that have each put in a substantial amount to pay for those millions on the platter and for the pay of that guy who sends me those mails?
They are after me, which I can digest, thanks Hajmola, although with great resentment and disbelief. But can one justify that just to pin me down they have gone a killing spree, slaying so many millionaires. Every now and then some millionaire has dies somewhere, and the next of kin wants to disburse, read siphon off, the fortune and needs my help to divert the funds giving my share of 20-30% of the amount. The amount in question is billions of USD, yes USD.
Since I haven’t replied to any of those mails and fall in the trap laid by these nasty people, they have resorted to mental torture to make me com e out of my rabbit hole. I do not and will not. I have come out form my den just to let then know that I am a warrior and will not give in. Even the torture that have befallen upon me won’t weaken me. These people have started a rumor campaign, like the “Get well soon Lucky.” questioning the extent of my masculinity. Trillions of people who I don’t know have been up day in night out to suggest cheap drugs or good one at cheaper rates like Viagra. I want to tell all those people just one thing, “Go and ask you mum and sis”. What do you ask is entirely on you. But to get the right answer one has to ask the question and that is all that I have to say about that
I better finish and go back hiding. It is about time these guys will come and start sniffing the whole network for any sign of me. In the meantime I would invite everybody who been a victim of this organized crime to fight for their right and not give up.
Vahe Guru Ji ka khalsa, Vahe Guru Ji ki fatah.
And the warrior ran straight into the enemy killing them like flies……..
Jara aaankh main bahr lo pani, jara yaad karo kurbani…..
Monday, November 13, 2006
PJs (Poor Jokes)
Did you ever know what is the most difficult part of PJs (poor jokes)?
It is making those PJs and worst making those PJs spontaneously.
Consider this:
My colleague and I were taking the daily stroll after having our lunch and we happened to pass my motorcycle. Looking at the odometer my colleague asks me “Hey, how come you have managed only 14 thousand kilometers in past 2 years, I have done 30 thousand on my car in last 1 year?”
Waiting for my reply he was prepared in defensive stance to take the onslaught.
After some time, pretending to think a lot about the answer, I replied.
“Well, you have 4 wheels on your car and I have only 2!”
“What?”
“Well, you clock four times the distance while I only clock twice!”
And he ran amok into the crowd….
And I was so pleased and happy and all the other in our group had a good hearty laugh.
It is making those PJs and worst making those PJs spontaneously.
Consider this:
My colleague and I were taking the daily stroll after having our lunch and we happened to pass my motorcycle. Looking at the odometer my colleague asks me “Hey, how come you have managed only 14 thousand kilometers in past 2 years, I have done 30 thousand on my car in last 1 year?”
Waiting for my reply he was prepared in defensive stance to take the onslaught.
After some time, pretending to think a lot about the answer, I replied.
“Well, you have 4 wheels on your car and I have only 2!”
“What?”
“Well, you clock four times the distance while I only clock twice!”
And he ran amok into the crowd….
And I was so pleased and happy and all the other in our group had a good hearty laugh.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
s(Pee)itting
Ladies before you start reading this post I consider it my duty to warn you that you may not like reading this post. Even if you do you would not be able to appreciate the concerns raised in this post as it is very likely (though I want to write almost certain) you have had not witnessed the act described here.
So here I hit the road…
It has been a mystery for me. No matter how much I try to reason out the reason I fail to come up with a fairly convincing reason to convince myself that I have found a reason for this ‘do this after, before or simultaneously’ behavior.
I have been baffled by the expanse of this behavior and as to how it is common to all men and cuts across all boundaries of type, size, color, caste, wealth, geographical location and any other line of demarcation that I can think of.
I don’t know what is this invisible bond that binds the act of reliving oneself (males of course, I don’t know about ladies) at the urinals and spitting?
Some men start with spitting, some men continue reliving themselves with the act of spitting, and some end with spitting after reliving themselves. Its not that I don’t have any other better work to do while I am relieving myself at the urinals, but just that I kind of feel it be very stupid to stare at the tiles in the front or look down into the urinal. It just feels so disgusting. And to add I don’t like spitting.
Do they feel like they have vanquished an insurmountable opponent? I guess they do so.
The smile, that feeling of joy and pride on their face does kind of reflect that sentiment. And if I may add they spit at their vanquished opponent; like some celebrate their victory, well almost certain victory, before the great war, some celebrate as they fight the war and some after they have had won the war.
I find this very funny, very very funny and very very very funny. So most of the time I kind of smile and others think the same what I have described above. But I don’t spit in or at the urinal.
Statutory Advice: Guys please wash your hands after using the rest rooms.
PS: When I told to my psychiatrist friend about my new post, he very coolly, as a matter of fact said “Telling one’s story as a friend’s story has been an old method of talking about oneself”. And I fell to the ground laughing; rolled on the floor as the spasms in my stomach became unbearable ...
So here I hit the road…
It has been a mystery for me. No matter how much I try to reason out the reason I fail to come up with a fairly convincing reason to convince myself that I have found a reason for this ‘do this after, before or simultaneously’ behavior.
I have been baffled by the expanse of this behavior and as to how it is common to all men and cuts across all boundaries of type, size, color, caste, wealth, geographical location and any other line of demarcation that I can think of.
I don’t know what is this invisible bond that binds the act of reliving oneself (males of course, I don’t know about ladies) at the urinals and spitting?
Some men start with spitting, some men continue reliving themselves with the act of spitting, and some end with spitting after reliving themselves. Its not that I don’t have any other better work to do while I am relieving myself at the urinals, but just that I kind of feel it be very stupid to stare at the tiles in the front or look down into the urinal. It just feels so disgusting. And to add I don’t like spitting.
Do they feel like they have vanquished an insurmountable opponent? I guess they do so.
The smile, that feeling of joy and pride on their face does kind of reflect that sentiment. And if I may add they spit at their vanquished opponent; like some celebrate their victory, well almost certain victory, before the great war, some celebrate as they fight the war and some after they have had won the war.
“See that’s what you get when you mess with me. Need one more?? Hugh! Spit Spit one more spit. There your go you rotten …”And some are real funny even when they are at this great holy war. These guys do not give up, ever, on their sense of humor. Even whey they trample their ‘who ever it is’ with the furry of a ravaging river they keep the whole environment cool and friendly by whistling a strange whistle, which goes like “Shoooo….. Shoooo….” What a great way, I admit, to shoo away the unwanted by saying “Shoo… Shoo…”!
I find this very funny, very very funny and very very very funny. So most of the time I kind of smile and others think the same what I have described above. But I don’t spit in or at the urinal.
Statutory Advice: Guys please wash your hands after using the rest rooms.
PS: When I told to my psychiatrist friend about my new post, he very coolly, as a matter of fact said “Telling one’s story as a friend’s story has been an old method of talking about oneself”. And I fell to the ground laughing; rolled on the floor as the spasms in my stomach became unbearable ...
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