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.

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…..

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.

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.

“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 ...

5 Days at office.

A Typical day at office until….

Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.

My mobile phone suddenly chirped. This was my ring tone. The voice is neither of my current or future wife, given that I am single and neither of my girlfriend, I don’t know which one.

Hello!
Good evening Sir! Hmm… Arr… Good Morning Sir!
A Very good morning, may I know who’s on the line?
Is this Mr. Smart Alecky?
Yes. This is he. May I know who is on the line?
Sir, I am calling from XYZ Bank, we are offering a life time free credit card to only a few select of our customers and you have been chosen for the card.

Day 1.

Before you say anything, let me thank you. This is the first call that I have received in last 4 days.
Sir… (Stopped in the middle)
Wait let me finish. Allow me to thank you by treating you with a cup of coffee, for a start, at Barista next to…
Sir, Do you stay somewhere near that Barista?
Yes. Very close. If you want you can also see my house. It’s not huge though, just 4 rooms on some 3000 square foot of space. (Sounding very modest)
Sir, no need for that. Actually we have an office near that. You can go and give your papers at that office.
Yeah so lets meet and you explain me in details all about the card, all hidden charges, all penalties.
Thank you for time sir
So, I’ll expect you at 5:00 pm there, this Saturday.
Click.

Day 2.

I am sorry, but I am not interested.
Sir this card has this advantage, that advantage, no this and no that, extra there and extra here…
Do you guys ever give up? Almost shouting
In a defensive tone Sir, we are doing our job.
Sounding very sad I really pity you guys. You have to do work at office! We usually play golf!
Trying to conceal the embarrassment behind that almost there laughter Thank You Sir
Click.

NOTE: Some really don't understand and straight away hit for the Click.


Day 3.

Sir, based on your good balance in your account we are giving this card free for life time/ so many years, reduced late charges. And the best part is that you can use this card at any merchant location
Wow, that really great. But by the way, what amount you consider as good balance?
Trying to think something I cannot reveal that Sir
The reason why I say this is because if my balance is good then your people are in trouble as then anybody is eligible for your card
What do you mean Sir
Just go and check your record for once, my account balance has never been more than xyz. xyz here is less than even a decent amount with a person who has been bankrupt since the mezozioc era.
Click.

Day 4.

You know this is the fourth time I am being selected for the offer, even though I have refused it all the times.
Amm….
Do you guys have a dictionary?
Yes, why Sir?
Well go and look how many meaning does ‘NO’ have in it. Until the last time I saw it, it always meant only ‘NO’
Click.

Day 5.

Sorry, I am not interested.
Why sir? Do you have any other cards?
Yeah, Citibank, HDFC, SBI, ICICI, Standard Chartered, Manhattan …. (almost all the names I knew other than this bank)
Sir, you can keep the cards from all the banks but not mine almost in tears, if possible the mobile phone would have had become a gargoyle.
Click.


And I wonder why I don’t have a credit card.

Strike, brings the best out of me....

Its not that I am one of those, work till I die kind of workaholics; I really do love to get day off from office but I hate it, loath it when it happens to be on a weekday. And especially if it is because of a strike(bandh) organized by somebody who probably thought there hasn’t been much of rioting on the streets. Why? The reasons are aplenty and listed down below, not necessarily in the order of their priority of being a major contributor to that hate feeling.

1. Office is the place where I get a good delicious food, which of course looses its deliciousness after days of eat-the-same-kinda-food thing. But nevertheless given the fact that it at a subsidized rate of Rs. 6 per meal, unlimited, nobody has any right to complain about the taste. Now if the day off is on weekday I miss my chance to gobble up all that food at those cheap rates. I have to go out and shell a lot more for not that healthy and many times certainly not that much hygienic food. Well you can call me a miser, cheap person but I’d call it as saving for the rainy day. Now if the day off is because of the bandh (strike), then all eateries outside are closed and there’s every chance of people like my starving to death. This is the Amazon rainy day where my savings for the rainy day do not come in handy. Even the pizza huts/corners are closed and there’s no home delivery.
   
   
2. Office is that one place where I meet, greet, grin at, look cocked eyed at so many people. There’s so much to talk about, and so many to talk to. With the day off I miss all those people. The life feels so boring and dull.
   
   
3. Office is that one place where I can surf a lot, till I drop dead or one of the person from IS (Information Support) teams comes saying that I have violated my company’s online surfing policy ‘n’ number of times which is ‘m’ times more than the permissible limits of ‘k’ attempts. But nevertheless I can browse a lot. And not having an internet connection at home make life all the more miserable.
   


4. Office is that place where I can have gallons of tea/coffee. It’s the lifeline of my life at office, or else I be down with the hang-of -left-over of the last drop of coffee I had days ago. At home limited supply of milk makes me feel lethargic and lie all day on the bed.
   
   
5. Office is that one place which allows me for recreation. A non-existent TV and a far from working radio makes that recreation at home almost next to beyond impossible. And especially if you have a college friend, who is as big an ass hole as a mammoth’s asshole (not the mammoth or the mamoth's hole, but the friend, get your context right you dumbo), living in the same building, who wears that my-wife-beat-me-again sorry pathetic, ready to die look whenever I knock at his door just because he knows that invariably I’ll switch on the his TV and his electricity meter somewhere downstairs will board the supersonic or maybe superlight, merry go round, and start spinning as fast as you can say nothing. This also adds to my second point about people. Just for the record this genltemand is a bachelor.
   
   
6. Bandh there’s no newspaper so that I can do that crossword again and again. I do it once with a pencil, erase it and do it again.
   
   
7. And since all the shops are closed because of the bandh, I have to stockpile my packets of cigarettes and of course I always do not stock enough of them.
   
   
8. I have to play that stupid game of ‘Ceasar’ again and again. Sometimes its fun though, to pay the citizens peanuts, 10 denarii per-month of salary and tax them at 30-40 percent of their income. And then hear the people crying out loud. Stop all the farming and hear the lady grunt “There’s no food in the city so I’m on my way 'ome'”, or that cart pusher “Can you spare me a little bread. I haven’t eaten for long”. And then the situation worsens and there are riots in the city and people come out on the roads with torches shouting “Down with the Governor” and I take all my troops there just to kill that one person who most often hides in one of those slums even before my army can say ‘March’. Most of the time its October though.
   
   
9. Worst of all I will have to come on Saturday to compensate for this unwanted middle-of-nowhere holiday. I would, sometimes I do think so, love to do so as Saturday, by the very essence of it being a Saturday is a laidback day, so no problem if anybody catches you snoring while you stare at that monitor, which now shows you screensaver when you thought you were reading a pdf on autoscroll!!
   
   

And finally when I am tired of all the stuff that I did and did not do, I roll myself in the bed thinking about all those beautiful things that never happen to anybody. Well God is not anybody but even then they do not happen to him also.

And by the time you read this line, I have already consumed 2 hours of my productive work time to write this post, proof read it, correct all the typos and post it; and now its time to go home and prepare for that bandh(strike) tomorrow and do what all I wrote above.

Disclaim-ed Post...

Disclaimer: The following post might be offending to those who are better halves, would be better halves, were better halves and want to better halves of somebody. I do not condone and appreciate the behavior mentioned in the post, and is described here for … well you read the post.


I have this new old friend. He’s new because I met him only 3 years back, and he’s old because of all those friends I have had made in these last 3 years he was probably the first.

So this friend of mine got married recently, as recent as 1 year back. Standing at 5 feet mark he’s not that tall, but he compensates for those missing good inches with his ever growing waistline. “Can’t help! She is good at cooking and makes delicious food”, he retorts. Every body who walks by and knows him kind of punches him in the belly and smiles, and some who are funnier, like me, ask “When is the baby due?” A sheepish smile is the short answer to the long question.

But he still clings on to his days of bachelorhood. And the incidents stated are reminiscent of those days.

We often meet at this place; everybody in the world knows that it is a secret place. And so very often we have this beautiful lady visiting this place; and every time my dear friend sees her, the adrenalin shoots up and his want for staying there for long gets longer. A strange happiness results in a picture perfect ear to ear Colgate smile, and even if you do not know, you can be 100 time infinity percent sure that she is somewhere around. This all seems very filmi, especially if you have recently cried over Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gum. And like all filmi heroes, superheroes and always zeros this gentleman has a filmi name ‘Rohit’. Quite filmi !!

So this other day when this filmi Rohit and I were in the secret building waiting for the elevator to come and elevate us to the top floor, this pericardium, the sinoatrial node of his life suddenly appeared on the same floor. A flash of lightening somewhere, and I instantly knew that it was the Colgate smile and that the lady was somewhere near. Waiting for the elevator on the same floor, there were we three and some other don’t cares. The elevator stopped and incidentally it was empty, normally it is never. My friend later told me it was good or else we three would have to split in two and one. No, I didn’t have the guts to ask whether that one was me or somebody else. In the lift this gentleman was in the seventh heaven (maybe even more if somebody can prove that there are more)

With heels of more than what looked like mighty six inches, she stood a little taller than 5 feet 3 inches, give or take. The swelling waistline suddenly reduced and the chest was up and out. Had it been a second more, the ribs would have had opened outward, and the heart would making a 100m sprint for every femto-meter, would have been running around pole-vaulting on the elevator floor.

The door opened and we went to the coffee bar and the lady went the other way. Until this day I probably never knew how much fun it was to walk backwards.

Over the cup of coffee the dam-ned drooling started. Here a confession, actually we both did and it looked like I was still a novice in drooling. I am sure he must have been a US Marine or a secret agent before we met, or in his earlier life. Just one look and so much observed and absorbed! “Did you see …(I cant pen down what he said because I won’t be able to do justice to the words and the intensity of those words, but it was nothing that you may start saying Ahaa... Hmmm…WHAT? Perverts…. ) I’d say he said something about a perfect sine curve and other curves, of the scintillating radiant skin, of the pearly teeth, of the beautiful earring… and I dozed off.

And just then we were interrupted by a third common friend, code named Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahin, who without being told anything he understood what has happened in the immediate past. He laughed until he could laugh no more; pearls of joy rolled down his cheeks. Then we both started hitting him, though not hard, reminding him he is married and its time to let go of those days of bachelorhood.

One last word he said “Beautiful…”, we saw a flash of a fleeting shadow disappearing in that distant door…

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 flooe as the spasms in my stomach became unbearable ...

And do not ask me which better half I was referring to.

Insane than insanity.

A Simple question:

How much more insane than insanity can an insane thing be?

Before you start yelling, some laughing maybe guffawing, some gesticulating and nodding their head in disbelief that I have gone mad, let me explain why I ask this question.


There is this religious rule in one of the Islamic countries which says:

“A woman can be held accused of adultery/ infidelity if she cannot produce at
least four males who can testify in the court of law that the woman was
raped.”

I so much want to entire post, filled with exclamation marks. !!!!!!!!!!!

Isn’t this the easiest way to condone the acts of quenching the thirst of sexual pleasures outside the confines of a sacred marriage? And the onus of proving herself innocent is left to hapless woman, who has undergone such a physical and mental torture, a setback to her self esteem, from which there is no coming back. And the conditions of that proof are so such surreal that actually there is no way of the female is proved innocent.

If there was a rape, how can the lady get 4 males, leave alone 1 to testify that she was raped. Even if there were 4 + males in that room where the horrible act happened wouldn’t they be part of the crime, would they say something and put themselves at the guillotine? If not an abettor in the crime then what were they doing there, watching a live porn and self serving?

And when the government kind of tries to do away with this annoying law the religious heads (empty ones I guess) pop up saying that this is blasphemous!

I wouldn’t ever want even my arch nemesis to have a daughter in that land.

Shake-ira in a corporate fest....

Philips Innovation Campus (PIC) completed its ten years in India; and they had a week long celebration, calling it a festival would be just to its scale and grandiosity. The week long of fun ended in a family get together of PICians (that’s how they call themselves) at Palace Grounds, Bangalore.

Under the huge tent had gathered anywhere close to 2000 plus junta. I like a faithful family member of my friend, who incidentally has almost no family here, accompanied him to this get together. It was an incidental advantage that they had high tea and dinner, on the house! Well now you know what holds my faith.

Anyways, the high tea was good, and very high. Pastries, chicken tikka , patties, lukewarm tea and barely hot coffee were available and I had all of them in multiple rounds until my stomach could take no more. Well I actually respected the amount of effort and time they have had put in bringing up the great mix of delicious food and didn’t want any of it to be thrown away, just because it wasn’t finished, so I kept on going.

Apart from arrangements for filling your belly, they had a mix bag of programs. A fashion show of children, children from 8 months to well I better say not. Yes 8 months, and we say ban child labor. Then there was fashion show, which was more like dancing wearing flashy clothes. They ‘danced’ around on Shakira tunes and tunes of other Bollywood croon-ies.

And then comes Javed Jaffery on stage. And this was the best part of the whole gathering, except for that another best, that one lady in that dance in fashion show or fashion show in dance, whatever it was.

He made the people there laugh and I laughed a lot. One of the few stories he said, though not verbatim:

All the big companies, corporate world have become responsive to the plagues of the society, one of them being AIDS. So they have all started manufacturing condoms with own brand name and even the punch line.

Reliance Condoms: Kar lo duniya mutthi main
NIKE Condoms: Just do it
NOKIA Condoms: Connecting people

The best of all:
Hero Honda Condoms: Fill it, shut it, forget it.

Then he invited some of the head honchos on stage for a short game of dumb-charade, which later on drifted to mimicry; they didn’t know much of stuff. Like this gentleman, must be in high position given his bald and shining head marked by stray strands of grey hairs, who didn’t know how to enact his favorite actor. Poor him, either he didn’t have a favorite actor which is bad or else he didn’t know how his favorite actor acted which is worse. The best of this head honchos heading was still to come.

Javed then asked this another gentleman to dance on one of the Shakira songs, to say in Shakira words, around the world on my bouncing butt! So this guy’s humongous butt swayed from side to side, up and down, from here to there. Shakira had a heart attack somewhere. Don’t come saying heart attack can happen only in the heart and not somewhere. This somewhere is for some geographical location. This one nice chap sitting next to the raised platform, in an effort to buttress his boss, or in this burst of Shakira emotions, jumped on the stage with garland of plastic flowers; put the flowers around this dancing Shake-ira, went down on his knees and started a slow motion tribal kneel-down-dance. The more-Shake-ira understood his cue, arched his back and started hopping from one foot onto another as if trying to simultaneously jump and shove his member into this fan’s mouth. It looked so cheap and ghastly on stage, and amusing knowing that one of the artist in this soft late-night-view-type will be one taking you next monthly review meeting!

Bemused, Javed intervened saying “This is not a dance bar, you kneel-down-dance person please get off the stage.” Literally the only thing that he needed was throw some Rs. 10 currency up in the air!

And I was head over heels. The entire row, column of chairs looked askance wondering “Why couldn’t I laugh as loud as him?”

A helluva time. Full time masti, courtesy they damsel in dance-fashion-show and this little-more-Shake-ira.

And Bangalore dies once again ...

September 3, 2006: Bangalore chocked to death once again. On a usual day she normally chokes and has a near death experience, atleast two times a day, for hours in the morning and hours in the evening. A routine thing, to which, the Bangaloreans have got used to and they miss the chocking when it is not there. The city recuperates from the week of chocking and gasping for breath on the weekends and on public holidays. But September 3, 2006 was different. It was a holiday, a Sunday, a laid back day for most. The city, while trying to muster some strength to get over the atrocities done to it the gone week and get ready for the onslaught of the next week, was sloshed in the dirt of Congress’s doing.

The Hunter vali, the ring master, the Chairwoman, the lifeline of the party, the incumbent for the only name that does wonder in Indian Politics, Mrs. Sonia Gandhi, was in the city. And the entire Congress party had like poured into the city to felicitate her home (??) coming, to shout slogans praising her and her efforts to dislodge the so called and so many communal forces, to have done all that has been done, undone, will be done, was/is promised but will not be done and all the other forms of done.

Big, super big, super duper big, cutouts were put, banners were placed everywhere and anywhere. If there’s a place, there’s a banner/cutout. Like it was a crime to leave any space unattended! And so many faces donned those posters. Even some of the congress workers were surprised to find that they had so many buffoons in their party. Why do the toothpaste companies not give them some free tooth-paste? The last thing I want to see is these people wearing a yellow toothed smile! And if the big buffoons are there on the display then how come the ntire entourage of monkeys be left behind? So there were family members, near and distantly distant, first level workers, ward workers, the accountants, the siphon-ers, the sweepers, the filth-doers, the named, the un-named and everybody who has the alphabets C, O, N, G, R, E, S, S in their name.

There were plastic flags dotting the entire length of the medians on all the roads of Bangalore; of course where the armada would zoom past. I so many times feel it is so good that these politicians are not interested in visiting each and every locality of a town; else it would be like “Me in a plastic clad Congress land!”

The newspapers reported that the local politicians had a scuffle over who would share the dais with the Lady. I am now so sure that she smells so good. Which perfume??

Then there were those busses. One after another, bumper to bumper, with people packed in. I don’t know what they were offered, a non-vegetarian meal and Rs.500 or more. I guess not, after all it was not fo(a)rmer PM. Devegowda’s call. But the people seemed to be comfortable in those busses. Maybe they don’t have busses in their village, maybe the busses are rickety shiketty, maybe they don’t have seats, what ever the reason may be. But even these comfortable busses are a pain, and you know where, for the daily traveler. I’d recommend the city transport to increase the number of footboards on these busses and increase their surface area, atleast people will have more space to put their toe on and not try some trapeze-ing on the window/door railings.

So these people on a one day tour to Bangalore had a good time, went sightseeing (yes it was all the gargoyles were operational, all the roads were cleaned and were dressed in a coat of fresh paint), delicious lunch, were even paid for junket. They had great time littering wherever they could, spitting whenever they could, and squatting for the obvious when ever they should. The plastic flags and banners did their part so well, flawless; falling on the roads, being swept away by a light gush of wind, trying on their own to complete the picture by blowing into every nook of the road’s asphalt, tree branches. A complete disaster for the city; a perfect mayhem.

And I witnessed all of this as I stood there watching all this happen, a helpless person, trying to reach his class on time only to be stopped, as the traffic piled up, because somebody important was supposed to take the road sometime in next half hour or the next to next one.

Her emergency supply lines went down. It will take her a long time to come back to normal.

Bangalore died once again, asphyxiated and chocked.

While I tried to kill myself and lit a cigarette …

Orkut Explained

A guy explaining Orkut to his friend:

Dekh mein samjhata hoon Orkut kya hai..jaise bachapan mein dost ki colony mein ja kar wahan ki ladkiyon par line marte the aur woh humari colony ki ladkiyon par

taank jhaank karte the ..bus Orkut ussi ka modern version hai..ek badi si friend list rakho.. teri list mein jo ladkiyan hongi un par mein dorre daloonga aur meri friend list ki ladkiyon par tu dorre dalega :)

Lekin jaise colony mein jane ka bahana chaiye hota tha ki dost rehta hai wahan par..isliye khoob saare dost rakho friend list mein jo use jante hon :)

Hope you did understood..lol Any confustion just shoot your questions :P

Does anybody still have any question??