The Insignificant Other

À bientôt, Itterasshai, Nos vemos después, Auf Wiedersehen & Poyitu varen

2007-01-17T11:09:00.000+05:30

There comes a time to say good-bye. Letting go (literal translation of yo estoy para, a mexican drink offered by my BIL) is one of the most powerful expressions of faith and greatest parting gifts you can offer your loved one. Saying letting go can be painful, but the pain is intensified if the process is entered with the illusion that moments after saying letting go, your loved one won't immediately go. More often, the act of saying letting go is repeated in part, in different forms and by different people over and over. Helping your loved one move from your hands to letting go might include the following:

Touch your loved one in a way that is comforting to your loved one. Let your physical presence be part of what nurtures a place of trust.
Tell your loved one you love her. If she is unable to respond then answer for her. "And I believe you want to let go too."
Tell her that you feel love in this place surrounding you and her. If you can express your experience of love then describe it to her.
Forgive your loved one of any past estrangement.
Give your loved one permission to let go. If she won't, shove her.

Remember you will likely repeat these acts in different forms many times. Hearing the words over and over creates a foundation of trust so that your loved one can feel secure in letting go.

Please visit http://www.retardjigsaw.com for more information about me.

I will no longer post on this page until and unless something really bad happens, like.

Happy New Year

2007-01-06T13:04:00.000+05:30

Let me take this opportunity to wish each and everyone of you a very Happy & Prosperous New Year. Incase, it isn't happy & prosperous, tough shit. Life is a bitch.

2006-11-27T08:32:00.000+05:30

Yes, I could not find a suitable title to describe Team India performance over the last few weeks. I have to admit that I am not an authority on the subject of cricket like my dear friends Bartman & Riggs. While there are many blogs, sites, talk shows, news feeds and expert columns on Cricket, I think, there are enough loose balls for the legging. (Antonym of offing. Also a sport Team India will soon embrace. The sport involves dropping two ferrets into the trousers of TI. The trousers are fastened at the ankles and the belt cinched. The player who can hold the ferrets in his pants the longest is the winner. The first rule of this sport is NO UNDERPANTS. WARNING: PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME UNLESS YOU ARE A PROFESSIONAL CRICKETER. Based on viewership ratings, Ajit Agarkar will have not two but three ferrets dropped into his trousers.)

Given our recent success in 1981, BCCI is planning to revise player benefits, by which, I mean, they are planning to cut them. Current benefits include businesses such as Tendulkar's, Sourav's and Bata's, Sahara India Pariwar condos to every Indian cricketer since Roger Binny at Aamby Valley City and permission to lose.

My Inside Informer caught up with the TI in SA.

Rahul Sharad Dravid: Often spotted at after-match interviews saying, "After this resounding thirty-seventh loss, the boys have their backs against The Wall." Have you ever noticed the glimmer in his eyes when he says that bit?

As a part of team motivation, the coach has asked TI to choose a song to describe them. RSD chose I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor. RSD is the worst slip fielder since VVS Laxman. Prior to World Cup 2003, we didn't have slip catchers because TI didn't have mildly-borderline-medium fast bowlers.
Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar: What is thicker? The splice of his bat or his head? If not for Mr. Butterfingers, Kemp wouldn't have buggered our bowling attack or the lack thereof.
Current claim to fame: The cricketer with the highest number of one-day appearances. SRT's song choice, We Are The Champions - Queen.
Virender Sehwag: Ersatz of SRT. According to him The Corridor Of Uncertainty is a difficulty to find his way to the hotel room after a night of binge drinking.

VS chose, Won't Get Fooled Again - The Who.
Wasim Jaffer: The good omen is he was out for a duck on debut. The bad omen is that was his only chance.

WJ chose, Misirlou - Dick Dale. Nobody knows why.
Mohammad Kaif: The perfect substitute for Kumble or Ganguly. The mistake with my comparison is none of them can bat.

MK might eventually end up playing the bad guy in Ekta Kapoor television soaps while offering expert advise on Cross-Batted: How To Get Out Played-On Every Single Time. MK chose, Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys.
Dinesh Mongia: DM chose, Nessun Dorman - Luciano Pavarotti. The moron doesn't know which game he is playing.
Suresh Kumar Raina: Another great substitute fielder option for India. Apparently, when SKR walked onto the field to bat, II heard Andre Nel say, "I don't bowl to virgins." Ha-ha.

SKR chose, Do Anything You Want To – Thin Lizzy.
Mahendra Singh Dhoni: While batting, Andrew Hall was caught on camera saying, "Well left, mate."

MSD chose, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go – Wham.
Harbhajan Singh, Ajit Bhalchandra Agarkar, Zaheer Khan, Munaf Musa Patel, Irfan Khan Pathan, Anil Kumble, Shanthakumaran Sreesanth: Given our top-order success, they are the new full-time batsmen, part-time bowlers. Not that they could bowl much anyways.

Gaand Mein Danda - bodhiTree was a collective choice.
Krishnakumar Dinesh Karthik: Not often do you see two wicket keepers play in the same game. This is a part of India's strategy to an early bird exit at the World Cup 2007.
Nobody gives a shit what song he likes.

Yuvraj Surendra Singh must be feeling pretty good that he isn't a part of TI touring SA. Sourav Chandidas Ganguly has scored the quickest century in World Cricket yet. For more updates on it, please visit Sourav Chandidas Ganguly.

Yours well-(in)formed.

10 Things I Want To Do Before I Dye

2006-11-11T15:10:00.000+05:30

Usually all our family dinners are rounded off by my questionnaires. That is the only time that I like to spend with my family.

Recently, at one such dinner, I passed a questionnaire titled Who Will Scry When You Die?, which incidentally is the working title of an abominable author named Robin Sharma. Even though nobody knows or understands why The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari sold so many copies, I can confirm the book has been translated into as many as 26 Indian languages. Why anybody from Orchha would want to read TMWSHF in Khariboli is beyond my realms of comprehension.

I have chronologically arranged my findings.

DAD:

Audrey Munson, Marion Davies, Ann Sothern, Lauren Bacall, Vivien Leigh, Kim Novak, Hedy Lamarr, Monica Bellucci, Honor Blackman and our neighbor
Make love to You shook me all night long (dad: the only shaking I ever get in bed is your mum tossing and turning) and last the entire song (mum)
To serve & volley with Anna (reverend brother) Kournikova
To be involved a ménage à trois full of votive flesh

BIL:

To educate people that Miranda rights have everything to with drinking and 100% of all drunken driving cases begin in the form of drinking. No amount of head-banging, thumb-sucking panadol will ever alter that statistic
To prove that the Holy Grail is a bottle of Glenfiddich Vintage Reserve 1973 and there is very little left of it
DUI is not a French word
To go to the Betty Ford Center atleast once
To be as famous as Humphrey Bogart, Dean Martin, Shirley MacLaine, Jerry Lee Lewis, Hank Williams, Sr., Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley.
To draw a semantic similarity between nautical terms and inebriation. Some of the terms include:

Above board: Leaning over the ledge after one two many drinks
Adrift: Pub hopping
Gaff: Sound produced by sneezing with a mouthful of beer, eventually frothing at the nose. Kids, please do not try this at home
Aid to Navigation: An un-drunk person
Galley: A place you would find yourself for more alcohol after pubs in your city shut
Luff: Confession of a drunk. Ex: I luff yer boofs.
To replace our current national anthem with Philosopher's Drinking Song
To educate people about the Twelve Steps program as defined by Alcoholics Anonymous. The program is as follows:

1. If you are able to take twelve steps after six pints of beer, then you are eligible for another drink
2. I am powerless over alcohol. I like the power alcohol exercises over me. Honesty deserves another drink
3. I believe that God has invented alcohol. The Church will pay for your drink.
4. Not to be ashamed that you belong to AA. Morality wins you another drink.
5. To admit that you have a drinking problem. Infallibility wins you another drink.
6. To believe that God will help you overcome your drinking problem. Between then and now, you can have another drink.
7. Believe that God does have a cure for premature ejaculation, a.k.a, shortcomings.
8. Willingness to pay all pub owners their rightful money. Collaboration deserves another drink.

The 12 step program advocated by AA is really not a 12 step program. It is merely called a 12 step program. Usually at the end of the 12 step program, you would have had 8 more drinks technically though people tend to believe it is 12.
To master the art of drinking and dancing together

PONGY:

Learn the secret art of growing back my hymen
To be inside a cockpit atleast once
To stop using the word "whatever". Whatever
Change my name to Chudasma Iona
To start a website called http://www.loverslain.com. For the original, please visit http://www.loverslane.com
To educate people that based on the size of His lingam, a man is divided into three classes: hare man, bull man and horse man. Based on the depth of Her yoni, a woman is divided into three classes: deer woman, mare woman and elephant woman

I didn't find the rest of them worthy of a mention. Some of them included:

I want to meet Subhash Chandra Bose
I want to meet Indira Gandhi
I want to watch Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart play live
I want to read the entire works of Jane Austen

What were they thinking?

Yours tentatively.

The Weaks That Went Bye

2006-11-06T11:38:00.000+05:30

I know, I know. It has been the longest time since I have posted anything new but I have my reasons and I cannot possibly tell you all about them. Telling would mean, breaking the Rose window of moral certitude.

There is a Chinese saying that says trouble and relatives never come alone. Neither do my wife and me. It has been rough sailing for the last couple of weeks because my wife now firmly believes, any problem, immaterial of size, shape, color, smell, dimension, magnitude or complexity can be solved by, this is absolutely true, eating vegetables.

I know, you are all chuckling and thinking; he is making this up, which is not entirely false. I have always tried to retain a semblance of truth. Based on her theory, every problem is associated with a vegetable. She calls it The Seven Day Vegetable Problem Solver Or Try Another Vegetable Therapy.

In a last attempt to relinquish our love, I have been eating bitter gourd for several weeks now.

30th October marked Riggs birthday. He turned thirty-five. It will be several years before the empirical value of his age will similize with his waist. Regardless, we love you, riggs.

Apparently, my BIL's sexual relations with my sister haven't been satisfying, by which, I mean, he hasn't had an opportunity. After acknowledging his need for sexual liberation and several drinks, I asked him to send me a questionnaire with his sexual problems and a promise to help him.

Given below are the questions and corresponding answers. Given his inability to use a computer, I am sure, I am in safe zone.

Our demanding lifestyle leaves her too tired for sex. How do we keep our sex-life live?

A. Help her in the kitchen and with household chores. You might end up doing it at the Laundromatte. You can keep it live by investing in a HDR-SR1 AVC HD Handycam Camcorder though I never liked my sister on camera.
I have sex with your sister even though I don't really want to. Is that okay?

A. Its absolutely okay with me.
What if I want to have sex but she doesn't?

A. Wanting more sex than your wife is man-like. Don't take it personally. Don't procrastinate over the issue and ask yourself, "Am I in this only for the sex?" The truth is, many men suffer from high libido, like you. When you want to be intimate with her and she doesn't, the rejection probably has nothing to do with you or your tool size.

Though the chances of having sex are reduced to 50%, you can try to flip-a-coin. Also, you may choose something that you are good at, in your case drinking, and challenge her. The winner has sex.
You know, I am well past middle age and so has your sister. How much is too much for us?

A. No hypothetical questions. Are you drinking?

Here are some facts for you. Tells you exactly why you are lucky. Nothing has been made up, really.

One-percent of the entire woman population in the world is allergic to semen. You can use a litmus test to find out the acidity level.
One out of every 73 people are asexual. They would much rather cuddle up with a teddybear.
The good part is, 2 out of those 73 women are always turned on.
Women who eat chocolate everyday have a greater desire for sex. Exactly why your wife now needs a double bedsheet to cover her.
Being in a relationship increases a man's urge to masturbate. The sooner you accept this truth, the better.

Yours loving BILly.

Debilitating Technology

2006-11-06T11:36:00.000+05:30

I am not sure why my previous post is not appearing on my blogger account. Neither am I able to post any comments on it. Can someone please help?

Karva F Chauth

2006-10-10T10:47:00.000+05:30

I have received hate mail from several readers complaining about my Sourav Chandidas Ganguly like consistency. I was waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Karva F Chauth is probably the most influential, all encompassing and fundamental festival celebrated by most North Indian Women.

Given its importance and significance in the (north) Indian context, I have decided to prendre la balle au bond. (For all non-French speaking readers, that phrase literally means, the next Bond will be a Punjabi)

Transcendental Guide to Everything That They Didn't Tell You About Karva F Chauth:

It is common knowledge that we usually do not know or realize the implications of numerous Hindu festivities. For the purpose of my study, I recently conducted a small survey asking all my family members, Why Do We Celebrate Diyon Ki Tyohaar?

Dad: To appease Laxmi Devi, our neighbor
Mum: Return of Lord Rama with his wife Dushala and brother Jalagandha to Ayodhya. Also, to commemorate the killing of Narakasura, your friendly neighborhood ghost, by Kkrish's main squeeze Jambavantha
Brother: I follow Kabbalah now
BIL: Taash Ke Patte parties and Daaru
Chintu: Phatakas
Mintu: Phatakas
Pongy: Whatever

Such philistinism has prompted me to educate my South Indian brethren.

Story:

Long long time ago, there lived a beautiful woman named Vyjayanthimala Bali. She was the only sister of her several loving brothers. On her first Karva F Chauth, after marrying several loving brothers, she went to her parents' house. After sunrise, she observed a strict fast. However by noon, Vyjayanthimala Bali couldn't fast any longer. The several loving brothers, who loved her dearly, were perplexed watching Vyjayanthimala Bali in distress and decided to deceive her. The several loving brothers reflected a mirror through Pipal tree leaves. Vyjayanthimala Bali, easily gullible, broke the fast before sunset and ate food. As soon as Vyjayanthimala Bali ate her dinner, she received the news that her several loving brothers, were seriously ill. VB rushed to palace and on the way, met some of her childhood buddies. By the time she got back from the party all her several loving brothers were found dead because Vyjayanthimala Bali forgot calling the Doc. However, when she asked her for forgiveness, some Gods granted her a boon. The mystification of this boon is now celebrated as Karva F Chauth.

Process:

The process begins one day in advance with hordes of married women buying traditional adornments such as Tiffany creations and Baccarat fashion accessories, Vermilion, Matthi, Henna, Pheni, several boxes of Kaju Katli and dry fruits and an augmentation mammoplasty surgeon's kit.

They wake up early next morning, at an ungodly hour. After a kosher bath, they eat a lot of food and get back into bed. They remain in bed until 1800 hours when they bring out the expensive purchases from the evening before and decorate themselves.

In the evening, they offer Bali to their respective MILs. (Please do not confuse it with the sacrificial lamb though in effect it roughly translates to the same) The MILs then offer, this is true, I am not making it up, a figurine of Gowri Ma made of cow-dung to the DILs.

The Karva F Chauth story is then narrated by an ageing wench, usually the MIL. Once the story winds up, the women exchange their puja thalis and eat some more. Around 1830 hours, the wives wait for their husbands to arrive in a new Chrysler 300C.

Regional Names of Karva F Chauth:

South India: Raksha Bandhan
Muslims: Ramadan
Christians: Lent
Jews: Chanukah

Incase you have any further questions on this festival, please send your queries to http://www.karvafriedchicken.com

Yours harland sandersingjee.

CARcinoma

2006-09-21T08:55:00.000+05:30

Much as the title suggests, I have found car buying to be a terminal disease unless you can afford to buy the Koenigsegg CCX or the Maybach 62 with the same insouciance.

Over the last few days, I have had interesting conversations about the street-legal cars available to the Indian public. Car buying is similar to arranged marriages. It begins with need followed by the elusive sense of comfort and luxury and finally ends with chagrin. The only difference is, you cannot change your wife as frequently as you change your car (if you do, it is no longer street-legal).

Listed below is a Buyer's Guide to the Ultimate Car Decision Making.

Maruti 800: NOT a street-legal car but still has managed to make it to my list purely on popular demand. The car rose to fame when Gira Bagri and his entire family managed to cram themselves inside a Maruti 800 to set yet another Guinness Book of Weird Records.
Pros: Cheaper than most mobile phones.

Cons: Yes, they are.

My Advise: Do not buy this car unless you wish to be overrun by a very angry man driving an International CXT. The car is now available in a new variant retrofitted with a Cat Diesel Engine for an additional EMI of 27,999/-. In a recent press release, the company has decided to discard the engine in an attempt to be the pioneers in eco-friendly push-your-car-as-you-go-along series.
Maruti Baleno: Suzuki fooled the Indian customers by selling Cultus Crescent as their flagship luxury sedan in India. The only rise to fame was, in a bid to capture a greater market share; Maruti advertised that their air conditioning unit was on par with that of Mercedes Benz.

Pros: Air conditioning.

Cons: Over-priced for using the same technology as a Maruti 800.

My Advise: When a Japanese car-maker manufactures a car with an Italian name; this is what you get. Unless you wish to drive a sedan with a 1980's design, don't buy it.
Hyundai Santro: Introduced less than 10 years ago into the Indian market, Santro is the poor man's rich car, by which, I mean, most IT professionals feel it is an automatic choice for a perfect car. Occupies second position behind Maruti 800 as NOT a street-legal car.

Pros: Tall-boy design.

Cons: This design enables easy tumbling.

My Advise: Don't buy this car if you are delightfully plump or FAT. You will never be able to reach the fuel hatch without getting out of the car. Also, as a rule, Koreans must do what they do best; eat cats.
Hyundai Getz: Introduced less than 2 years ago, this car was intended to meet the needs of the unknown segment of the Indian population, by which, I mean, people either buy Santro Zing or Ascent.

Pros: Creative market positioning and segmentation.

Cons: No prospective buyers.

My Advise: Pleaszzzzzzzzz..... don't buyz the carz.
Tata Indica: In 1998, Tata Motors introduced this indigenously manufactured cab to the Indian population, so indigenous, the cab comes with a company-fitted spittoon. The company has introduced several variants of the Indica over the past few years trying to hard-sell it as a CAR.

Pros: Tear-drop shaped design.

Cons: Tear-drop shaped design.

My Advise: Don't buy it unless you want to be called a cabbie-walla. The company introduced other versions of Indica named Indigo and Marina. I have decided NOT to waste space writing about more cabs.
Chevrolet Aveo: Much to the Indian population's ignorance, Chevrolet - a flagship TRUCK company of GM Motors introduced Daewoo Kalos as Chevrolet Aveo. The car was introduced in 2006 with the catchphrase "The Indian Revolution", by which, I mean, the sales have dropped tremendously.

Pros: Chevrolet brand name.

Cons: GM Motors brand name.

My Advise: When Korean car-makers build a car with a Greek name now owned by an American company, this is what you get, Chevrolet Aveo. Kalos in Greek means beautiful but the big question I am asking is, do we have to be blind?

Like always, I will answer a few questions from prospective and confused car buyers?

Ahnooie, I want a car in the range of 3 lakhs to 17 lakhs. I am looking for comfort, luxury, boot space, leg space, power and mileage? What would you suggest? - Perplexed peter.

Dear Peter, I suggest you buy a Mahindra NC 640 DP. It is well within your budget and easy for you to carry milk cans and cattle.
Ahn, Please tell me does the new variant of Maruti 800 have airbags and what is the top speed one can achieve on it? How long does it take from 0-60? - Disheartened david.

Dear David, The answer is yes. The red-colored heart shaped air-filled bags that Lolly will be holding in her hand after your first date. The highest speed one can achieve with the air-conditioning OFF is 30 km/h incase you have wind speed assistance. The highest speed you can achieve with the air-conditioning ON is not regarded as speed. It takes exactly one minute from 0-60 anywhere in the world.
Ahnoo, You keep saying all kinds of bad things about our cars. So what car do you drive? - Alarmed ajay.

Dear Ajay, I drive an EB110. Go figure.

Like always, I would encourage you all to send me more questions for car buying advice and I will continue to do the best.

Yours James Maley.

Ahnooie Turns 50!

2006-09-13T11:37:00.000+05:30

Isn't it amazing that I have managed to publish 50 posts on my blog while my dear friend riggs continues to stay on the top as the leading and only member of SWTFIT.

It is a genetic disorder in women to celebrate every little, big and inconsequential thing. I personally do not have anything against such convivialities as long as I am not chastised for forgetting them.

I am talking about the numerous days that my wife celebrates, such as:

One year since we bought our not so new drapes anymore day
Half year since I splurged half the GDP of Bosnia-Herzegovina on personal beautification day
Quarter year since my car got crashed and I suddenly realized that I forgot paying the annual car insurance while I had the cheque in my handbag all the time day
Fourteen and three quarters of an year since I saw you kissing Santa under a mistletoe day
Sixteen years since you have said anything nice to me day

These are no exaggerations by any stretch of my imagination. While we do not throw a party for fifty guests or fly to Bora Bora or Maupiti to celebrate them, we do indulge ourselves, by which, I mean, spend the entire day bulwarking a conclusively spiteful and testy wife. These are days when you wish you were married to someone with Korsakoff's syndrome. (A very simple procedure needs to be employed to achieve this syndrome. It requires something stout, very hard, blunt and ability to swing like Joe Dimaggio)

I thought, I will take this opportunity to update you all on all the members of my family.

Note: The following descriptions are all random in nature. They do not follow any order based on colour, creed, sexual preferences or intelligence quotient.

Pop: He continues to have problems with having sex, by which, I mean, he can't give himself a raise. It continues to be a part of our dinner-table conversations and he speaks about it with the same ease as we would talk about the weather. On my recent holiday, I got him a PDA, which happens to be the ONLY time he gets to play with his stylus. The movie KANK has driven him to clinical depression. He says, after all these years, I should have chased my dreams and not settled for a bargain fantasy. I do not know what he is talking about.
Mum: She is filing for a divorce or so she says. I am pretty sure she won't leave my pop because she loves me a lot. She continues to offer instant cooking crash courses to chefs at most restaurants. She wants to go to Ibiza with the members of Lonely Hearts Club though she is worried dead about being spotted by the paparazzi at Fcuk Me I'm Famous party.
Brother: He continues to come up with outrageous and insipid business plans asking me to invest in them. His latest venture involves starting a germ-free Bukkake centre with lifelike silicone fleshlight German Goo Girls named Bonobo. I last heard of him when some friends said he was found painting toenails of some guy at the recently ended LIFW.
Sister: I have nothing intelligent to write about her though she believes henpecking is a kinky sport. She continues to bully me and philosophize about living a truly honest and spiritual life. Recently, at some gathering, she said, you know, dad and mum are getting old, why don't you move back with them? I haven't called her since.
BIL: He has tried to curtail his drinking, by which, I mean, not drink on Mondays ONLY. A feeling of abandonment and forsaking has surfaced among pub, bar and restaurant owners. On further investigation, I found that he is back to his old ways and his treacherous idea to cut back was farcical, by which, I mean, he was sick on that given Monday and couldn't drive himself to a pub for some brandy and hot water. He is lobbying to have the government pass a writ, which will replace our current national anthem with Kurt Weill's famous Alabama Song, later popularised by none other than Mojo Rising. In a failing attempt to civilize himself, he tried to go for some cha-cha-cha classes only to be kicked out on the second day. On further enquiry, I found out, drunker master is not a dancing style.
FIL & MIL: I didn't want to waste space. They are fine. Even after 15 years of marriage, they continue to treat me like a son-in-law.
Wife's Brother: Continues to buy absurd gifts for his son. The last time I met him he told us a politically correct story. It goes like this:

Snow Caucasian and Seven Little Men. (All the highlighted portions in the story have been politically corrected)

Once upon a time in a great castle, a Prince's daughter grew up happy and contented, in spite of a yellow-eyed wife of one's father by a later marriage. She was very pretty, with blue eyes and long dark hair. Her skin was delicate and colorless, and so she was called Snow Caucasian.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the loveliest person in the land?" The reply was always; "You are, your Majesty," until the dreadful day when she heard it say, "Snow Caucasian is the loveliest in the land." The wife of one's father by a later marriage was furious and wild, began plotting to get rid of her combatant. Calling one of her trusty domestic helps, she allured the person with lagniappes to take Snow Caucasian into the forest, far away from the Castle.

Seven little men found her and asked her to stay with them. They were named; Discontentedly, Ready To Sleep, Inclined To Sneeze, Self-conscious, Slightly Daft, Medical Practitioner and Blitheful Feeling. And, they then lived happily ever after.

I am never going back to his place. EVER.
Wife's Brother's Wife: She still believes her husband that an ulterior motive for choosing Little Mermaid's attire for Chintu's birthday party.
Chintu: He continues to surprise me all the time. Last time I met him, he wanted to be a carpenter. Now he wants to be an Evangelist. I am surprised he even knows that word.
Wife's Sister & Her Husband: This place is available for advertisements.
Mintu: Shaping up to be the male version of his sister Pongy.
Pongy: Go on admit it people, I know all of you were waiting to learn about the latest on her. She got herself a new body piercing but none of us have been able to spot it on her, so I am assuming it on a private part someplace. I didn't have the courage to ask her where it was, only because, I fear her stripping down to show it to me.

Your happyhalfanniversarily.

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2006-09-06T21:26:00.000+05:30

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Tell-Tale Signs of a Cheating Spouse or How I Managed to Nail My Sheband, Ouch!:

Husband:

He is spending more time in the restroom than in the bedroom
He hasn't told you about his new playmates Sydnee Steele's Cyberskin Dual Entry Pet Mousse and Chelsea Sinclaire's Sweet Secret Intimiate Passage
He knows his hand like the back of his plam
You notice his pecs, lats, triceps and biceps are more prominent than the rest of his body
He replaces the Nivea with Jergens
The Hand That Rocks The Cradle is a COOL movie
He calls himself "Fast Hand Is Still My First Name"
Handycam means spending hours together in solitude on the internet
He would rather celebrate Palm Sunday than Valentine's Day
He would much rather shake to Chucky Berry's My Ding-A-Ling-A-Ling than jive to Billy Gilman's Little Bitty Pretty one
And finally, he thinks a lesbian with fat fingers is well hung.

Wife:

I have little or no information about cheating patterns among wives. I would like everybody to fill this space.

Yours drillmates.

Kane Able NaKed

2006-09-05T10:46:00.000+05:30

The latest rage in the country now is Lage Raho Munnabhai*. I have personally noticed some doctors** dressed as taporis at free medical assistance camps.

My dad and mum watched Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna over the weekend. It has done wonders to their relationship, by which, I mean, they haven't spoken to each other in 48 hours. My mum was regretting her decision*** while my dad kept saying he missed Priety Zinta.

My wife and I also had the fortune of watching this intricate drama on our holiday with my wife's relatives.

Story (Full Of Spoilers):

The movie is based on the book Qabil and Habil, the sons of Adam and Eve, written by Jeffrey Archer though Karan Johar has done everything possible to conceal and deny this FACT. The movie has four central protagonists, namely SRK, AB Jr., PZ and RM (not to be confused with rigger_mortisse). SRK is married to PZ and AB Jr is all set to marry RM.

Just before the wedding RM tries to escape**** but much to her ado, she is guarded by AB Jr.'s sidekicks. RM finds SRK in a garden and they both get talking about life, death, babies and most importantly sex. RM gets married to AB Jr., while SRK is hit by a speeding car, all at the same time.

SRK loses his million dollar football deal because he is now rendered one-leg army. While all this is happening, AB Sr., is playing a fool. Ziiiiippppppp. SRK's and PZ's marriage is pretty beat. SRK is a limping retard who trains third grade kids, while PZ is haute couture. Also, their sex life is nonexistent. AB Jr.'s sex life is also nonexistent.

Both SRK and RM are looking for the deeper meaning of life, by which, I mean, they both are looking for fuck buddies. Anyways, RM wants SRK to help him rediscover the passion in her marriage, though limping retard has other plans.

While all this is happening, PZ and AB Jr. realise that they have been ignoring their spouses and plan to revive their relationships. So, PZ and AB Jr. sleep together and so do SRK and RM.
Finally, one day, RM realizes that he is not in love with PZ anymore and so does RM, coincidentally. They both meet up at Radisson and make passionate love. The 'moral-policing-conscience' pervades all human comprehension, thereby, in a moment of utter insanity and imbecility; both RM and SRK go home and relate their passionate love making with their respective spouses.

While the respective spouses do not make the same mistake of telling RM and SRK about their sleeping patterns, they accuse them of adultery and perfidiousness. The question everyone is asking is, why did SRK and RM lie to each other about their failed marriages following their confessions.

Three years pass and AB Jr. gets married to a gori chick. At the wedding RM realises that for the last three years SRK was living all by himself and runs to the station to find him. Eventually she does and SRK asks to marry RM.

PZ was the one who really got shafted. Part Deux might have AB Sr. serenading PZ for all we know.

But till such time, please Alvida Kehna...

Yours SamarjitSinghTalwar.

* in an irrelevant news update, Agha Khan University is offering Dawood Ibrahim an honorary degree in General Nursing given the success of the galA kATo Munnabhai.

** given the popular success of the movie and inanity of the public, the director is all set to release Munnabhai I.A.S, Munnabhai as Judicial Clerk and Munnabai: The Life And Death Of Peter Puffer.

*** she wants to file for a divorce on grounds of incompatibility and irrevocable differences. While I asked her not to be silly, I heard my father add, sublime perversity.

**** the actual reason was, it would have been very difficult to run in an Abu Jani Sandeep Khosla outfit.

Dust to Disk, Bite to Byte

2006-08-30T10:48:00.000+05:30

Wednesday is the first day of the weekend for all IT & BPO companies, by which, I mean, they spend all of Monday checking email and forwarding insignificant and purportless emails to our mail boxes. Tuesday is spent checking for movie tickets online and check fares for Happy Diwali 2007. And then, it is TGIW*.

I have in the past had the misfortune of interacting with IT professionals**. Not too long ago, I had to meet another big cheese*** from a bigwig IT megacorp. While I waited for BC to arrive

Salient Features****:

IT organizations around the world take great pains and spend millions of dollars on security*5, by which, I mean, everybody in the company sports ID tags. While the ladies hang these ugly plastic junk around their necks, it has been observed men store these cards in their wallets*6.
All IT professionals wear service uniforms*7 to work.
I spotted a guy who was wearing a dime-a-dozen hoodie, which read, I Love Albuquerque. He*8 was distributing Snickers bar miniatures, Hershey's sticks, Bubble yums, Jolly Rancher gummies and Twizzlers pull-n-peel candies.
I also spotted a woman in, this is true, a ball gown. She was also sporting a bindi, chudiyan and wearing jootis.

Finally BC arrived. I will reserve our conversations for another time.

Yours hardiskly.

* Thank God Imma Wastrel.

** the thing about IT professionals is, is they stand out in any crowd, by which, I mean, they are usually never allowed.

*** it is true, most IT professionals were originally hoteliers, defense personnel, accountants, biochemists and supervisors at tanneries, bottling companies or power plants. All current IT professionals NOW are Y2K compliant.

**** I could have 'prepared' a PowerPoint presentation too but I am afraid, it is not a viable option on blogspot.com.

*5 while companies ensure that with access cards and SEI CMM level 5 security, no employee or intruder runs away with, say, mouses, monitors, IBM mainframes and magnetic disk drives the size of a household almirahs, they encourage their employees to

chat on several chat sites and messengers;
access personal email;
listen to streaming music;
and view LIVE! webcam shows.

*6 while some men produce their wallets and shake it vigorously against the photoelectric sensors, others merely turnaround and raise their heinies.

*7 men wear t-shirts and jeans, half-sleeve shirts and khakis or polo shirts and formal trousers. The common-denominator is shoes; sneakers. The ladies wear anything from tie-dye t-shirts to wedding gowns. The odd guy comes into work in a Kalamkari print kurta and a Kangol hat.

*8 he was trying very hard to put on a Jalandhar Cantt.-Yank accent. The cost of owning all those chocolates is effectively cheaper than a cup of chai in Irani cafe. Also, wearing a hoodie in this weather puts anyone at a major health risk; dehydration and eventually death.

Junctural Metanalysis Or The Meaning Of Monikers

2006-08-26T16:14:00.000+05:30

The second Wicket falls.

I am sorry for being out of circulation for a very long time. After visiting the Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park, spending incalculable time with my wife's family and innumerable trips to Debenhams, Hennes & Mauritz* and Selfridges, here I am.

For the last two months, I have found a new pet peeve**, called rediff chat***. I have to admit that I have had the opportunity to meet and interact with multifaceted people****. Riggs wanted me to write about a few of the chatters that I have regularly private messaged*****.

Annotated below are the chosen ones*6.

Please note that all the characters and events appearing in this post -- even though based on real people -- are entirely fictional. All descriptions are impersonated -- poorly. The following post contains bawdy language, low blows and personal jibes. Due to the aforementioned reasons -- public viewing is avoidable. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely premeditated.

The author accepts no liability whatsoever. Only one orangutan was hurt during the making. You may not be mentioned, but you're here.

i-VTEC: A work of modern art. An exemplary piece of human trash. Born in Transylvania, by which, I mean, a product of transvestism, i-VTEC rose to popularity after acting in a family drama based on his own family, titled Third Sex From The Scum. He claims his parents are Captain Barbossa and Ganymedes. Nobody knows what caused the psychological imbalance but people believe he lost it when his parents sent him a note saying, "Do not come home and all will be forgiven."
Gen Phir Khan Durrani: The original Star-Spangled Banger. Was a near-likely contingent for the Vietnam War. Also played an extra in the making of the song We Are The World. Celebrates Deepavali every year on 4th of July. Obviously thinks World Series Major League Baseball is a tournament played by nations around the world, such as, Angels of Anaheim, Cleveland Indians, Milwaukee Brewers and Philadelphia Phillies. Also believes George Dickel, Jack Daniel's, Wild Turkey and Jim Beam are the original Scotch Whiskies from Versailles and Mount Vernon. Probably drives Toyota Prius, supports Hank Biasatti, lives in a flat-pack house from IKEA and says God Bless America, Yip Yip Yankhee. Claims that the original track by Dire Straits was not Sultans of Swing but Sultan of Swat and the Curse of the Bambino was originally American.
behenji turned mod: The proverbial mod. The Bible and the Quran believe Adam and Eve were the first man and woman created by God. The story believes that Eve was created from Adam's rib (a comedy from the 1940s featuring Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn) though she (behenji) argues she created from Adam's rub. According to The Fall or Original Sin, the Good Book says, You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die though behenji believes Her Fall began when she first dug her fangs into a pizza. She also believes, the phrase, Women on Top is merely metaphorical. As a sexologist, her advice to people with bedroom woes is Whipped Cream & Strawberries.
sanjeev_pilot_del: He is the misbegotten child of Rajesh Pilot. I took the liberty to ask him if he had ever fancied a job as a crash test dummy. I don't think he entirely appreciated my sense of humor.

* I convinced my wife to buy me an AEC Routemaster.

** disguised addiction.

*** started by Ajit Balakrishnan and run by riggs. Chat involves interaction between one or more members, usually of the male species or male species camouflaged as women talking, debating, arguing and agreeing on a myriad of subjects, namely sex or the lack of it.

**** people with one or another psychological problem. Someone would usually ask, Hi ahnooie, how are you finding it in here? or Hi ahn, I am going to get myself a bagel and a hot cuppa, can I get you one? or Hi ahn, can v hev cexxxx? or Hi ahnooie, hope rediff chat feels like home away from home? Everyone treating your well? or Hi, what a bright and sunny day. What's the weather at your place? or Hai, wat iz fer lanch & hw longgg r u?

***** a message you often send to a specific chatter, in order to maintain secrecy. For example, your date of birth, maiden name, favorite teacher in class or your childhood hero. RROC (Rediff Rules Of Chat) prohibit you from sending personal email addresses and phone numbers unless you want to be emailed or called. Rediff does not take any responsibility for stalkers, psychopaths, spammers or prank callers unless they are officially appointed by the company.

*6 they have all been randomly picked. I am an equal opportunity provider and have treated everyone without prejudice.

She

2006-08-23T07:17:00.000+05:30

Have you ever been overwrought by a perfect beginning? Ever imagined the sublime fashion in which, all great books sally forth? Books that were never meant to be, but influenced human cognition? This story is not about somebody famous, this story is about her.

Long, long time ago... no, ALICE was beginning to get very tired of... nada, There was once a sweet little maid who lived with her father... aught, Once upon a time there lived a King and a Queen, who lacked but one thing on earth to make them entirely happy... zot. In the movies and fairy tales you experience something and suddenly Adelaide starts playing, all the flash lights start blinking, the tempo changes to allegro molto and everything around you ceases to exist. That moment changes everything.

But life is not a fairy tale, nor is it a movie and a billion things happened to her while she lay there on her back and let time pass her by. She just never realised. Her story is nothing like Troilus and Cressida or Jane Eyre but about awkwardness, faux pas, misjudgment and really bad timing.

Things come to a pass at times and you need someone to remind you, you are worth everything. Here is what you never lost, but was merely displaced.

Assiduousness. Your efforts for perfection at all times, working unceasingly even when you were vanquished.
Friendship. Your relationships with everyone around you, never ebbing. For constantly upholding mutual respect and honour and for never acting as if you were bigger than life.
Allegiance. To yourself and everybody depending on you. For coping with condescension and enduring self-respect.
Alleviation. Helping at all times. For unremittingly listening when you wanted to be heard and tirelessly speaking when you wanted to be spoken to. For always finding the best way and not your way.
Attention. A sense of disquietude even for your enemies. Your consideration to little detail, most of all.
Ardency. Your conviction and impetuosity. For sharing your enthusiasm. For your good judgment and common sense.
Adroitness. For your willingness to learn and improve. For your sprightliness, pushing others to succeed.
Aspiration. For your proactiveness. For being modest about your success.
Adjustability. For changing with the times and accepting everything.
Ardor. For the joy, the tears, the laughter, the hope, the faith and above all, the love.

Merci beaucoup for your permanence.

Raksha Bandhan

2006-08-09T10:24:00.000+05:30

Jim Carey: One of Hollywood's most versatile actors, by which, I mean, he possesses an intrinsic and natural ability to screw up any kind of role. Nobody knows why he is invited to the Academy Awards every year. Also, acted in many quotidian movies like Ace Ventura: Freak Off The Leash, The Mask: I Look A Whole Lot Better, Dumb & Dumber: My Parents' Story, etc.

Today is Raksha Bandhan. The significance of RB in Hindu Mythology is skewed. Also, the origin of RB is dubious and enigmatical. After days of research on the subject, I read a theory on RB.

The first life forms on Earth were, this is true, Rednecks*. Apparently, after God created Rednecks and realized His mistake, He then decided to introduce human beings**. HBs can be easily differentiated from RNs:

Bipedalism
Prehensile thumb
And most importantly, an ability to fornicate with dissimilar members of the same species.

After learning about the promiscuous ways of DDs***, HBs wanted to infiltrate and perpetuate their race among RNs. This predicament caused unrest in the Redneck camp. Their race was threatened by, this is true, Sentinels. Rednecks were perplexed. They ran helter-skelter**** for help. The entire DD race was at stake until an astute DD suggested a plan*5.

Though Hindu Mythology does not necessarily agree with this theory, they cannot entirely deny it.

The concept of RB is rampant in our society. It (the concept) took precedence after the movie Josh*6. The sequel to this movie was released in the same year and titled Mohabbatein*7. These movies elucidate the Redneck Rakhsa Bandhan theory.

Yours larrythecableguy.

P.S: Incase anyone of you feel I have been insensitive, wait till I write about Bhai-Dooj.

* Unlike other races, Rednecks are born stereotypical Rednecks. They always live in mobile trucks and sometimes manage to drive them. Guys usually wear wife-beaters, a baseball cap and blue jeans, while the women wear daisy dukes and nothing on top. All the Rednecks share the same last-name; Hillbilly.

** This was not achieved by fusing man and woman but by merely using a technique called Xenotransplantation. HBs' were originally Chimpanzees.

*** DDs would do anything for a bottle of Miller Lite and at that time the owners of Miller Brewing Company were human beings.

**** Not the song by Paul McCartney. Rednecks ONLY listen to Country music and Southern rock. The Beatles are insects that they enjoy with a can Budweiser.

*5 Women Rednecks wanted to tie Rakhis around their male counterparts (wrists), as a sign of protection against human probes. Thousands of Rakhis were manufactured overnight and the next morning was celebrated as Raksha Bandhan. This sudden act of foolishness and asininity led to the age of sibling revelry, by which, I mean, All Rednecks are my brothers and sisters...

*6 *-ing: Shah Rukh Khan as the brother, Aishwarya Rai as the sister and Chandrachur Singh as the Redneck. Though the movie disappeared without a whimper akin to ALL Deepa Mehta movies, it received critical acclaim for highly-imaginative casting. Hank Williams and Kenny Chesney composed the songs for this movie.

*7 The only movie in World Cinema to have two intervals during the movie. *-ing: Amitabh Bachchan, SRK and AishR. Yes, like you all would have guessed, in this movie, SRK and AishR are two lovelorn lovers. AB plays the role of a school headmaster while AishR plays the role of his daughter. SRK is a teacher at the school. The movie deals with several relationships

SRK and a dead AishR.
Aditya Chopra and Uday Chopra
Jugal Hansraj and Anupam Kher
AB and some choir boys.

Titty Androgynous, Chinese Terrorist

2006-08-08T10:13:00.000+05:30

Apparently, Dean Jones* did not say the terrorist has got another wicket. Inside sources have a completely different story. DJ in his South-Australian drawl said, this is true, Hashim Alma** has got another terrific wicket. Ten Sports***, DJ's employer has sacked him.

The newest trend in world cinema NOW is to make indigenous versions of Shakespeare plays. Though I haven't watched Omkara, here are some movies that have been made and will be made.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona: Do Aadmi Vadodara Se. *-ing: Paresh Rawal and Tinnu Anand
The Merry Wives of Windsor: Gharwali Baharwali. *-ing: Anil Kapoor as the guy and Kader Khan and Satish Kaushik as guys in drag.
As You Like It: Gaand. *-ing: Chhota Shakeel. Dawood Ibrahim was unavailable. The movie is about the Underworld. No, it is not about vampires.
Measure For Measure: Inch For Yard. *-ing: Rahul Khanna and Om Puri. Directed by Deepa Mehta, this cross-atlantic-pacific-mediterranean-caspian movie is all set to expose Why Americans Must Stop Calling It World Series Major League Baseball. The game, after 100 years is now accepted in only ONE country, Cambodia.
Romeo and Juliet: Heer Ranjha. *-ing: Anil Kapoor as Heer and Sridevi as Ranjha. When Sridevi finally married Bonny Kapoor, AK's brother, the movie failed to ring at the box office.
Hamlet: Ye Yan. *-ing: Danny Denzongpa as the Emperor, Minister and the Prince. The director is toying with the idea of having DD play the Empress too.
Julius Caesar: Working title: JC, The Passion Of The Christ. *-ing: Jesus Christ and yes, good guess, Mary Magdalene as Etu, Brutus.

Presence of fine-dining restaurants such as Chef & I, TK's Oriental Grill, Orient Express, House Of Ming, etc., cannot deter my wife**** from experimenting with Chinese cooking. Once in a couple of months, she is beleaguered by a certain sense of plat du jour*5 paroxysm.

This oddball disposition is usually displayed on Saturdays*6. After shopping for non-germane*7 stuff, we reached home at 2030 hours.

My wife started with finely chopped vegetables. After about three minutes, she brought out a food grater and started finely shredding the vegetables.
Next she mixed all these vegetables with copious amount of water and Maida. Apparently the binding material for the manchurian*8 is water. OK, I am kidding. It is Maida and eggs.
She deep-fried this batter not before burning our heels*9.
She then boiled the Hakka noodles and transferred the boiled contents with finely shredded vegetables into a Chinese wok*10.
She then brought out an Indian tawa and added liberal amounts of packaged Tomato puree into it. After dropping in other unidentifiable objects, she then transferred the manchurians into the simmering concoction.
Finally, we sat down to eat at 2300 hours.

The fact that I am writing this post is a testament to my wife's chef-d'oeuvre. We ate at Orient Express last night.

Yours jackiechanga.

* Born Dean Mervyn Jones was a prolific cricketer who revolutionized the form of chewing gum while batting. Any other details relating to DJ are merely statistical. Also, DJ is distantly related to, this is true, Roshan Mahanama. I am yet to decipher the connection.

** Born 20 odd years ago is the authoritative water boy of the South African team. With a batting average marginally above Anil Kumble's, he is a formidable cricketer against Papua New Guinea. Spotted at training sessions, Hashim Reshammiya was caught getting out to shadow practice, by which, I mean, Sourav 'Bachcha' Ganguly has an edge over HA. HA (not Ha-ha), a devout Muslim was found genuflecting reverentially (Salat) after a Brett Lee's bouncer. Ha-ha.

*** A very imaginative name for a fashion couture channel. I specially recommend the Umm al Qaim special where men in burqas sashay their derrières.

**** Self-proclaimed world-class cuisine experimenter. We are on a search to find anyone who will endorse this belief.

*5 French for inedible food.

*6 It occurred on the Saturday that just went by. My BIL called me around 1930 hours, wanting to know my SNL plans.

I said: I can't go out tonight.
He said: Why?
I said: I am going to have an early dinner and turn in before 2300 hours.
He said: Eh?
I said: Yes.
He said: Eh?
I said: My wife is cooking tonight.
He said: Alright. Goodluck. Swing by incase you feel sick. Antiseptic, ya know.

The last I heard of him, he was partying till 3:00 and got home after a heavy dose of caffeine.

*7 On Friday evening, we bought two packets of Hakka noodles (undone), Spring Onions, Capsicums in Tiranga colors, Garlic, Carrots, Mushrooms, Bitter Gourd, Lettuce, Broccoli, Spaghetti, Fettuccine, Tortellini, Fusilli and Benito Mussolini. In addition, we also bought Parmigiano, Paneer, Mozzarella, Cheddar, Stilton, Brie and Camembert cheeses.

I said: Do we need all these for Chinese cooking?
She said: Yes.
I said: It is unheard of.
She said: Go read Saroj's Punjabi Cookbook.
I said: Are we making Maggi Da Hakka?
She said: No.
I said: So, why are we buying ingredients for Continental cooking?
She said: Incorrect. Contingency.

I quickly paid the bill and sneaked in a very big loaf of bread and eggs.

*8 The only manchurian I am aware of is The Manchurian Candidate with Frank Sinatra and Janet Leigh.

*9 Not just another idiom.

*10 It is so big, we do not have a shelf to store it. In places like Macau, Mumbai, Manila, Cairo, etc, a few families could have lived under it's shelter.

*11 Titty Androgynous: Remake of Titus Andronicus in Bengali. Recommended for family viewing.

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye

2006-08-07T18:57:00.000+05:30

That is a song by a nondescript singer named Beth Nielsen Chapman. I am sure none of you would have ever come across her.

I am extremely sorry for not posting any new posts. I will surely write one tomorrow without fail.

Hope all is well with riggs, pecc, rums, ekta and everyone who comments on my blog.

Somebody on rediff asked me Any run in(s) with the gooey kablooie? I said, You mean my wife? Every single day of my life.

Yours abscondingly.

Kaphi With Karan

2006-08-02T09:11:00.000+05:30

Here I am today, typing with my new VAIO TX: VPFNGCHHHHTQWER-TXXX5280021GPPRSAIDS/VVXZOO. My wife and I have agreed that I will be unavailable* in the bedroom for a few days.

Like all women, my wife is a sucker for sales. She will simply buy stuff because they are available for less. Very recently, she bought, this is true, fourteen towels at TH** because they had a 0.007451% discount on them. We have enough cutleries to supply for marriage parties.

Anyways, a few days ago, I made the mistake of going to Barista*** for a bite and a cup of coffee. I really shouldn't have.

The place didn't have any place to stand or sit. Where ever I looked, I saw kids and more kids, sitting down with their mates and this is true, working on school projects and home work.
My wife and I managed to get to the counter passing a whole bunch of juvenile delinquents only to find a number of caffeine junkies****.
My wife asked me to find us a table, while she settles the bill. I am inherently a peace-loving person unlike my wife*5. While I was waiting for a couple to vacate the table, Mr. Pappaji*6, Mrs. Pappiji and Master. Pappu barged across the room and occupied the table.
My wife was wild*7 at me and followed it up by mouthing off a few indecipherable obscenities in her mother tongue in the general direction of the Iyengar's family.
While we waited endlessly for some kids to finish their science projects, not very far away from where I was standing, a family was ready to leave. I moved over and stood behind the couch, waiting to plonk the shopping bags on the couch in order to mark my territory. (not on the family but that wouldn't have made a difference)
No sooner did they leave the couch, another woman*8 came running to occupy the couch.
After sitting down in the couch sans baby Jumbo, we waited long*9 enough for our stuff to arrive. Before our food could arrive, another couple*10 with a kid in tow arrived. They dragged two chairs from different tables and sat at our coffee table.
The couple munched on croissants, oranais and french brioches, this is true, with a fork and knife, while their child was tottering perilously close to me, trying to grab my food and coffee. His parents were completely oblivious to this oafishness.
Everything was going on okay until the guy, in an attempt to satiate his sweet tooth, ordered a Kugelhopf*11.

We walked out of Barista, telling ourselves never to walk in again.

Yours kaphilly.

* I want to experience the joy of a new laptop solitarily. She smirked, Ha! Like your presence is going to make any difference.

** A brand called Tommy Hilfiger. Originally from Hoshiarpur. Known to experiment with different shades of yellow.

*** Meaning bartender. The place does not serve alcohol or coffee.

**** It is absolutely easy to spot a caffeine junkie. He usually has a cup of coffee in his hand. They wear khadi kurtas, many beads around their necks and wrists and often read The Hindu Business Line or Kierkegaard's Either/Or.

*5 She played the role of Child Catcher in the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

*6 I only know their names because; they were all wearing the aforementioned name badges. Apparently, they moved here from down south and, this is true, changed their names for acceptance.

*7 Angry.

*8 The woman must have been in her mid-forties. Accompanying her were three older and very large women + a baby elephant. I gently informed her that I was hiding behind the couch for atleast thirty-seven minutes now and I should rightfully be the next occupant of the couch. While both of us were engaged in a momentary blitzkrieg firing sugar cubes at each other, one of the very large women ordered baby Jumbo to occupy the couch. This act of acute preposterousness necessitated the coffee shop manager to make an appearance. While the manager and the woman argued, I occupied the couch with baby Jumbo sitting right beside me.

I said, "Can you please have your child removed from the couch?"
She said, "Why? She is only a child and you don't need the entire couch."
I said, "I am also accompanied by my wife, who is right now paying the bill."
She said, "Ha! Who would have wanted to married you?"

At the point, my wife made an appearance.

She said (wife), "I did."

Wanting to have the last laugh, I ended the proceedings with, "Ha-ha, only if your daughter had a different face and was thinner...".

*9 The frame of reference of time that we spent waiting for our food to arrive was, the number of Presidents of America between Ulysses Grant and Herbert Hoover.

*10 The family consisted of a guy, a pregnant woman and a just born child. The guy sat at OUR table and dragged the coffee table closer to him, thereby, bereaving us of our food. At this point, my wife reminded him that we were already at the table and called him, "A Slubberdegullion." I am not sure what it means. Neither did he know.

*11 He did this by merely asking for a menu card and pointing it out to the aforementioned item. I am not certain if he knew it was made of rat's offal pieces. OK, I am just kidding.

Forty

2006-07-31T14:06:00.000+05:30

Talk about weird coincidences? This happens to be 40th post and it happens on my 40th birthday. WOW.

I am sorry, I cannot write a full-length post today but I will write one tomorrow. I am waiting for my new laptop to arrive. We are going to have a party for some friends at home. I am sure my family will be the uninvited gate-crashers.

Happy Birthday To Me.

Yes, (Prime) Minister

2006-07-28T11:48:00.000+05:30

My wife promised me last night that she will not initiate any arguments until my birthday. I think that is just NOT* terrific.

Last night, I was watching some movie when a friend of mine called and asked me to tune into NDTV The X-Factor**. They were covering India's biggest security breach since Babur***.

Events:

Appranetly smoe kdis deicded to vsiit teh pirme miintser atfer dnnier to disucss Foriegn Dricet Inevtsmnet.
They were in a black Sonata****, named Sheila Dikshit, Prathiba Singh and Jagdish Tyler.
After passing through the first gate, the car was stopped for no apparent reason*5.
The car was then stopped by NDTV crew, which asked a whole lot of dumb questions*6.
Sheila Dikshit then replied with some dumb answers*7.
Now, all of them have lost their cabinet ministries for some kids from Air Deccan*8 named Yogita, Veena and Imran*9.
The spokesperson of the PM was heard saying, it was not a security breach, it was just some of our Indian National Congress leaders visiting him at odd hours. This sort of an oddity is common at His, PM's 7, Race Course residence. It has been observed that, at times, greyhounds, rabbits and draft horses are found racing across the quarters though there is NO physical evidence, so far.
Bharatiya Sena has now deployed the Jat Regiment and Punjab Regiment around His house. This was an idea proposed by the Intelligence*10 of our country.
The artillery deployed at His residence includes 17 Carl Gustavs, 3 T-90 tanks, 1 Sherman M4 and several Agni's. When questioned, someone from the PMO's office said, we just beefed up security to stop any trespassers.
Incase anybody wants to meet the PM, any Indian citizen or Italian, please send in an email to primeminister@indiannationalcongress.gov.nic.pic.edu.in *12. There is a HUGE backlog of requests to meet the PM. So, inconveneence is regritted.

Yours PranabMacherjee.

* I can't walk away in a huff from the bedroom and sneak into the study and turn on my computer. I will be compelled to stay in the bedroom and watch re-runs of Fauji. No excuses.

** It is not based on The X-Files though they keep showing Rupert Murdoch's face very often. It is a horror show.

*** He is the son of Genghis Khan from Sogdiana and Ahmad Shah Abdali. He also brought to India, Conversion By The Sword Theory, by which, I mean, circumcision.

**** Korean crap. It probably has the worst name in the history of car making. Imagine meeting a business partner and saying, Yeah, I drive a Sonata. They also managed to copy the Jaguar grille without much ado. And, Jaguar can't be bothered. Ha-ha.

*5 Though the car was holding substantial amount of Pentaerythritol Tetranitrate, the security let them through because, the security obviously did not know what Pentaerythritol Tetranitrate was.

*6 Why do you want to see the President? Did you not know that our Prime Minister after 1930 hours disrobes his turban? Did you not know PM's residence is a high-security zone?

*7 We did not know that we are not allowed to meet the PM after 1730 hours. We were just swinging by his place with a couple of cold beers and stopped by to check if he was home. We were surprised that the security didn't stop us. What's wrong with meeting the PM? Isn't he the same guy elected by the people, for the people?

*8 Rigg's (my friend) preferred mode of transport. Getting jacked while flying Air Deccan is commonly known as a "Flying Fcuk". Just because he loves AD so much, he has traveled to places such as Aizwal, Bhavnagar, Dibrugarh, Jamnagar, Rajahmundry, Silchar, Tuticorin and Siachen Glacier. He really likes living on the edge. In an exclusive update, AD is now the second biggest domestic death toll ringer in the India. Thank you and Namashkar.

*9 Everyone is saying, they are somewhat better looking than SD, JT and PS. Also, Imran, like always has been suspected to be the main culprit. The intelligence of our country is busy trying to link him up with either SIMI or Lashkar-e-Toiba.

*10 They believe this is a common camouflage technique adopted by many armies. To have 4000 Manmohan Singh look alike(s) at one gathering will confuse Giuseppe Zangara from taking aim at MS.

*11 Indian soldiers are commonly known as Jawans except in Tamil Nadu because they do not understand Hindi. It is not a bigoted view.

*12 From: MAILER-DAEMON at primeminister@indiannationalcongress.gov.nic.pic.edu.in

Is Your Antediluvian Computer Insured?

2006-07-27T11:47:00.000+05:30

When I was temerarious and pubescent, I made a retarded decision to buy a MacBook*. Based on the Moore's Law**, Apple changes it's products, this is true, every 14 days, thereby, discontinuing the production of all the spare-parts of models bought 15 days ago. They also ensure that product upgradation or enhancement is absurd and unfeasible***.

Two years have passed since. With my birthday around the corner, my wife has decided to buy me a new MacBook Pro****. I am just kidding. She has categorically stated that she will not buy me any Apple products. She also casually added, I am juvenile. Instead I am getting a VAIO TX***** as a gift. I am ashamed*6.

Anyways, I have a packed weekend ahead, by which, I mean, I have to attend many family get together(s). I think I will have enough information to write about for the entire next week.

Have you ever received telephone calls from strangers asking you to visit their office on Sundays for a one-hour session on their company and walk away with an assured holiday in Goa? Well if you haven't, you have missed an opportunity. The next time you receive such a call, grab it.

Prerequisites: You have to be a couple. This offer is not valid for single men or women. Also, they will NOT reveal the name of the hotel till the very end.
Not very long ago, I received such a call. It was from an insurance agent. After a conversation on A Brief History Of Time, I promised to visit their office on a particular Sunday for kicks.
I managed to lure a MALE friend of mine to accompany me to their office*8. The receptionist confirmed my details and was surprised to see my male companion. After mulling over this predicament for a moment, she summoned her manager.
The manager was gentle enough not to provoke me, only because, my MALE friend is all of 6'2" and one of actors in the movie Pumping Iron.
Honestly, I was not concerned about insurance. Also, I have little understanding on this subject. (to date)
After waiting for five minutes, we were invited into the larger room, only to find lots of couples (man and woman) sitting around tables with an 'agent' spieling out incoherent statistics and data.
The manager was kind enough to sit with us and explain the entire insurance procedure. After forty five minutes, he realized, neither of us had any knowledge about insurance nor were we interested in buying an insurance policy. Without wasting any time, he brought out a coupon with a two-night-three-day stay at some nondescript bivouac.

We thanked him profusely for his time and patience and offered him a two-night-three-day stay at Goa and dispersed.

Yours KalHoNaHoInsurance.

* A computer developed by a fruit seller named Apple Computer, Inc. The advantage of buying a MacBook is simply that you cannot install any Microsoft products on your machine, by which, I mean, the laptop is rendered useless. You can use the computer to view pornography, pictures (family) and connect, yes, you have guessed it right, an i-Pod. I currently use it as a word-processor. Incase you are in the middle of a Product Development Cycle, (PDC, 7th day) I strongly advise you not to wait another 7 days to buy their newer product but invest in a Microsoft enabled machine. Microsoft may be unreliable but they haven't changed their technology since Charles Babbage.

** Moore, yes the same guy who started the "Intel Inside, Idiot Outside" revolution. He states, every 18 months, double the number of Intel employees will quit the company with enough confidential information and intellectual property to start rival start-up chip-making companies. He also says, every 18 months double the number of transistors will be added onto IC's, by which, he means, by 2116, computers will be the size of pick-up trucks.

*** Incase there are any spare-parts available in their inventory, they will cost more than the entire product cost + services charges + shipping + Make Steve Jobs Richer Fund + VAT. You may also find some spare-parts on e-bay, which are costlier than the GDP of Ireland. Apparently, Ingvar Kamprad made his first millions selling spare-parts of obsolete Mac machines on e-bay.

**** These machines are ludicrously unaffordable. Apple to date has not recorded a single sale but continues to produce these machines. They look good as mannequins in Apple Stores.

***** VAIO TX: VPFNGCHHHHTQWER-TXXX5280021GPPRSAIDS/VVXZOO. That is the model name. It is true. Incase, you ever happen to call Sony's customer service, after the introductory nonsense about 'hear this information in forty three different languages and we are an equal opportunity employer', a thoroughbred Learn-English-In-30 Days-Through-Gujarati executive will want to know your name. After furnishing details about your personal life, (includes current affairs, this is done only for authentication) she will (parenthetically) ask, what is the problem with your Sony product? Before you can explain the problem to her, she will transfer your call to their technical department. The process of furnishing details about your life continues, till Nalineenart Supravee Wuthisanti will ask you, Sir, please tell me your laptop model?

*6 I am ashamed because I almost forgot her birthday and only managed to buy a wilting rose from a florist who was shutting shop. Also, I dislike roses.

*7 Bottega Veneta and Luella are the only two brands that make laptop cases for Apple MacBooks. Incase, your fashion quotient is unsubstantial, believe me, the cumulative monthly salaries of all the employees in DLF might be insufficient to buy a case.

*8 Their reception area was smaller than our smallest bathroom with an old rusty table and a chair. Also present was a 'sofa' with questionable stains. This area was partitioned from a larger and invisible room that contained many chairs and tables without a menu card strewn around the room.

Blog Kya Hai?

2006-07-26T11:37:00.000+05:30

Given my clamorous and emphatic success as a seasoned blogger, my family threw a party for me yesterday. I am not kidding, it is absolutely true. Yesterday, my wife invited a whole load of people for dinner, the reason is strictly confidential*. I am not sure but my family has a congenital disease about telling everybody in the extended family about everything**. So, everyone at the party wanted to know what a blog***** was.

Have you ever come across any person who wants to relate every single event of their life on a blog? Well I have, my cousin***. He is all of 20 years and describes every single aspect of his life on the blog. I am sure, if he survives a near-death experience, say, has a head-on collision with a truck, the first thing that will come to his mind is, WOW here's my topic for tomorrow's post.

Excerpts from a single day:

Woke up to a loud fart from me. Kal raath kho wat did i eat? After quickly brushing my teeth with my Colgate motion (battery operated) toothbrush and using my tongue scraper, I looked at myself in the mirror. I seemed to have sprouted a new pimple on my left eyebrow and one on my right cheek just inches away from my Elvis Presley look-alike sideburns. It appears that I have also sprouted several hairs on my chin. (I am becoming a man) My nose remains clean of any nose boogers. After shaping my moochi and maalishing it a bit... I quickly had a bath. (I am not going to describe what I did during my bath,hehe)

I measured myself again. I haven't grown too much since I last checked, which was yesterday. (haha) I am slightly perplixed. Wore my carpenters, a cool Nike tee, rings for all my fingers, gelled my hairs, put on my Oakley sunglasses and went out. Grabbed a cappachinno on the way with a chciken-grill sammich. Met up with Rohan, Rocky, Vickey, Sanjana at college. I think Sanjana is having the hot for me. She always looks at me different from the other guys at college.

We bunked Economics class, as usual. You know how that fat, burly, lecturer is? Cannot stand him. Boooooorinnng. We went to watch the movies. We had to choose form Kkrish, Date Movie, MI:3 and Corporate. All boring yaar. Instead we went to McDonald's and had some snackies and coke. It was almost time to finish college. I offered to drop Sanjana in my car and she accepted. So, I ran back into McDonald's and asked for some mouth freshener, like Polo or something... you know, you never know when one can get lucky *wink wink*

I played some romantic songs like I Just Called To Say I Love You and Words to set the mood. You know recently I asked pop and got my glasses tinted dark though its illegal but big deal man everybody is doing it. The a/c conked off and the traffic was so baaaaaad, we had to roll down our windows even though I tried to keep them raised for a while. It was getting too suffocating. Yaar, I missed a chance. After droping Sanjana home, I headed to meet some friends. Man some of those chicks make my wee-wee go all woo-woozy. I want to lay one of them soon, if not all.

Headed home finally at 6:30 PM. Dad and mum were waiting for me. They asked me how was college and I told them it was fantastic. I think they believed me. Sat down and watched some TV and played some Play Station. Called Sanjana at 7:20 PM. She didn't pick up the phone, so had to hang up. Her dad will kill me. Called back at 7:23 PM again and she picked up. I just love her voice. We chated till 9:00 PM on the fone and then she had to go for dinner and me too.

Changed into my nightwear and measured myself again. Still same. No warts whatsoever. An here I am typing this out to you, my dear blog. Good night and till tomorrow.

He has been typing such posts for the last 15 days and the comments are worthless. He had the cheek to say at the dinner, Mama, I take the creative juices from you to write my posts. I wanted to commit instant hara-kiri on him but the presence of his parents grid-locked me.

Some Hindi Movies And Story Lines In One Sentence:

Sarfarosh: A movie about allergies caused by detergents. Ex: Surf.
Rangeela: A wet colorful panty.
Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar: A movie about a woman and several Sikhs. Winner gets to cycle her.
Dil: Coronary artery bypass surgery. Special appearance: Dominique Jean Larrey.
Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak: An Afghan movie stalled since there were no Hindi translators.
Love Love Love: A a a movie movie movie about about about love love love lust lust lust and and and labor labor labor.
Tum Mere Ho: Misappropriated in foreign countries as a pornographic flick though it is the Indian remake of Psycho.
Parampara: The sound that is made when elephants and their respective mahouts make a grand entry in an epic movie. Much like the cult movie Lola Rennt or Run Lola Run by directorial benchwarmer Tom Tykwer, Parampara is also a 3-minute short-film on elephants juxtaposed several times and played for 79 minutes.
Kuch Kuch Hota Hai: A movie made based on the book Freedom At Midnight by Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre. Special Appearance: Yes, good guess, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.
Swades: Opposite of Pardes.
Pardes: Opposite of Swades.
Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham...: Working title: Kabhi Pussi Kabhi Bham. A poignant tale about SRK and Karan Johar.
Main Hoon Na: Every politician's casting couch. A secret camera that beams on the secret lives of Amar Singh and Jaya Bachchan, together.
Veer-Zaara: Veer - to swerve, to turn aside, to bend. Zaara - little. Much like KKKG, this time, SRK does Yash-ji.
Love Ke Liye Kuchh Bhi Karega: Saif Ali Khan's auto-biographical cinema on why he left Sharmila Tagore for Amrita Singh.
Dil Chahta Hai: A movie about three men and a really old lady. A cheap pun on the soap Bald And The Beautiful. Special Appearance: Feroz Khan.
Hum Tum: Originally titled Hump Tum. Since it didn't go past our revered Sharmila Tagore, they merely had to drop the T.
Hum Saath-Saath Hain: A group-orgy. This movie was responsible for, this is true, many nuclear families embracing the conjugal family system.
Tu Chor Main Sipahi: A medley of many short stories that include teacher-student, patient-nurse, Father-altar boy, professor-pig-tailed uniform teacher and my pop-and his hand.
Bunty Aur Babli: Two Panjabis.
Bade Miyan Chote Miyan: Short-film of Masturbation.
Gangaa Jamunaa Saraswathi: A remake of I Know Who You Did Last Summer?
Do Aur Do Paanch: This movie inspired mathematicians around the world to make another movie called One Two ka Four.
Kaala Patthar: Stone the Blacks. This movie was apparently a stark reality about the Hutu, Tutsi and Twa tribes of Rwanda. This movie could have sparked the Era of Apartheid. Special Appearance: Martin Luther King, Jr.
Iqbal: A movie based on the non-existent English sitcom; The Trials and Tribulations of A One-Balled Misfit.
Amar Akbar Anthony: A remake of I Still Know Who You Did Last Summer?
And finally Sholay: Pronounced Sho-Lay, meaning 100 Lays. The movie was later exaggerated and made as Hazar Chaprasi Ki Maa.

Please send in the corrections to any of the films themes I might have screwed up. It impossible to remember plots of all the movies.

Yours GandKiSaugand. (Apparently, the movie was initially titled Ganga Ki Saugand, which was worse.)

* It means, I do not know.

** Hypothetically speaking, incase I happen to have my foreskin surgically displaced (circumcised), my parents will call for a gathering and discuss why I had to go in for an operation, how long the operation took, for how long I will walk in a funny way and what it looks like now. They never had such a gathering, honestly, but don't be surprised.

*** Distant relative. Apparently after hearing about my blog, he decided to start one of his own. I am sorry; I cannot reveal the blog address only because I will be ashamed. His blog is full of mistaks grammmetical both and misspellings,.

**** Ho is short for Lady is a Tramp.

***** Not the personal diaries of Gen Pir Khan Durrani*6. This put me in a precarious position because present at the dinner were Penthouse Uncle, Reddy Cousin's folks, PP and the rest of the usual suspects.

*6 A computer bot.

Chat Poetry

2006-07-25T11:08:00.000+05:30

I have been thinking of something to write all morning until I found this. This is the only poem, I have ever written*. This poem was detrimental for my future because my wife loved it. Just imagine the repercussion of writing something meaningful?

What sweet affliction time is doing to us,
Neither are you yourself anymore, nor have I remained myself anymore,

Our restless hearts met,
As if they were never apart,
And you've lost yourself, and so have I,
After walking together, for a couple of steps,

I am no sure where we are headed from here,
Though we have set off without a path,
And what we are in search of, we don't know,
Though our hearts are weaving dreams breath by breath,
That's what time has done to us...

My new found addiction is rediff chat. I was introduced to it by riggy. Apparently, he is really big out there and can pull a few strings**. While I had nothing to achieve this afternoon, I decided to log onto rediff chat. Barely, after riggy left me in the warmth of the afternoon, Footsie*** was teeming with emptiness. As I sat there in solitude waiting for my next victim and twiddling thumbs tolerantly, ragingbull38delhi**** arrived.

I: Hi ragingbull
It: Hi ahnooie
I: Are you a fan of Jake La Motta?
It: Wat?
I: J-A-K-E L-A M-O-T-T-A, A-R-E Y-O-U A F-A-N O-F H-I-M?
It: Wat?
I: Did you watch the movie?
It: Wat movie?
I: Raging Bull?
It: No
I: So what is the significance of Raging Bull in your nick?
It: Wat?
I: Ok.
It: Wat?
It: F?
I: U?

ragingbull38delhi has logged off chat.

The next one to arrive was AffectionNcare*****.

AffectionNcare enters our room.

I: Just like your mamma.
It: hi anoo
I: hi fec
It: how ar u
I: fin tank u
It: can v privat chat
I: F?
It: whr r u f
I: India
It: i too
It: r u marrid?
I: dosn't th ky 'e' on your kyboard work?
It: lol......no... ths is chat lingo
It: wht r ur hobbis?
I: Play real time characters of Jame Gumb, Max Cady, Alex De Large and Frank Booth.
It: who r thy?
I: Old time friends.
It: ok. can v go to privat room
It: i mak u cum
I: What's a private room?
It: only u n i can chat. no 1 can c
I: Including us?
It: lol...silly no. u funny boy... no 1 but us can c
I: Can't we just stick around and chat here?
It: no...i lik privat chats
I: Ok. Go ahead and create the room and give me the instructions to join your private room.

Atleast ten minutes passed after which, It told me how to get into a private room. The private room was christened "Frinds".

It: hai anoo
I: Hi fec
I: So, what do we do now?
It: chat
I: Ok. What do you want to talk about?
It: ***
I: I am not sure what you want to chat about.
It: ***
I: Can you please tell me what the password is?
It: wat password?
I: ***, what does it mean?
It: talk about ***
I: Do you have a decoder?
It: wat is dcodr?
I: Ok. Forget that. What do you want to chat about?
It: ***

By which time, both of us were frustrated for different reasons.

It: how big is u
I: 5' 11".
It: lol...lol...don't b silly... u cant b that big
I: I am, God's truth.
It: WOW
I: My father is bigger than me.
It: rally? WOWOW...
I: yes. So what is that you want to chat about?
It: u know want to ****?
I: What?
It: pls want to ****... i am along and want satisfacsion. cum pls...quickly
I: No, I am a guy.

AffectionNcare has logged off chat.

Yours higgledy-piggledy.

The events are all true. I have no made them up.

* Plagiarized.

** Introduce me to chat screen names, that we are both unsure of, especially about their sexual accouterments.

*** For the uninformed, it is your friendly neighborhood tooth fairy.

**** Chat ID has been altered for anonymity.

***** Chat ID has NOT been altered for originality.

*6 In an unrelated bit of trivia, the line, I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it, from the movie On The Waterfront is used in the Raging Bull.

The Great INDIAN Escape*

2006-07-24T11:03:00.000+05:30

Have you ever wondered why people have self-deprecating names like Mulla, Mohammadullah, Abdullah and Bulla?

My entire weekend was packed with watching The Great INDIAN Escape**. Yes, the latest booty-shaker in India is no longer Mallika Sherawat or Mika Singh or blog blocking but The Rise And Fall Of Tomato Rates Post-Liberalization.

History:

On Friday, in Haldheri village***, Kurukshetra district, Haryana, a small, young but ugly child named Prince Kumar****, in an experiment***** gone horribly wrong capitulated the entire nation. He was missing since Friday until his father heard his voice at the end of the tunnel asking him to rescue him. (Prince, not the father) After cautioning the authorities, the 66 Engineers Regiment******, the rescue operation began.

Rescue Operation:

With the able assistance of AIDMI (All India Disaster Mitigation Institute), UNDMT-I*8(United Nations Disaster Management Team, India) and the local villagers*9, the 66 Engineers Regiment sought out a plan to rescue Prince based on the movie Digging to China. While the rescue operation could be accomplished within three minutes by lowering a gunny bag*10 and asking adept Prince to sit in the bag and the team pulls him out. Instead, the regiment started digging a tunnel from Shahbad.

The team began constructing the Hoover Dam while food, books, a shaving kit and a blow-up doll named Lady Midget*11 were lowered to keep Prince busy while he was growing up to be a full blown adult. After close to fifty hours, the rescue team managed to save Prince.

Aid & Help:

Haryana Chief Minister, Bhupinder Singh Hooda*12 announced a grant for 2 lakhs for the trauma caused to Prince's family. All the medical expenses incurred during the treatment of caveman to prince will be covered by the government.
Prime Minister, Manmohan Singh appeared on National Television and offered 72 lakhs from the PM's National Relief Fund. In a special update, he also said, Haldheri Village will now have a maternity ward, three schools, seven PCO booths and electricity.
SIEMCL (Sahara India Entertainment Management Company Limited) has signed up Prince for Chhota Chetan Redux.
Reliance Infocomm supermo Anil Ambani has offered Prince's family Karlo Duniya Muthi Mein offer and gifted him a free incoming till the next seven generations offer at 12 paise per day.
Several celebrities and cricketers are getting together to hold a benefit match and pass on the collections to Prince: We Need More Children Like This relief fund.
Even Salman Khan's stage shows around the world are becoming hits.

What Are They (Media) Saying:

The people, especially media channels are enraged about this incident and are calling it the Breach Of Indian Administration since the destruction of the Babri Masjid, 1992.
The media believes that the administrators have not been doing their duties properly.
This is negligence on the part of the Government of India as a whole.
As angry Indians, we want all the pits in India to be closed within 50 hours.

What Are They (General Public) Saying:

Presidential form of government must replace our current government, thereby, enabling us (general population) to ask him (The President) about the uncovered holes. He will then be directly responsible for all the uncovered pits in India.
Installation of compulsive hoardings that say "Pit Ahead. Unless You Want To Appear On National Television, Do Not Risk It." or "This Is The Bhakra Nangal Dam. Unless You Wish To Be Electrocuted, Please Do Not Jump." or "This Pond Has Alligators. Please Do Not Swim, It Could Be Dangerous To The Alligators, Thereby, Disturbing The Ecological System." Since these ideas were suggested by Indians abroad, the government will in all probability install these hoardings in 14 national languages.
We thank our Indian Army for saving the child. Indian Army goes where no person goes. At this point, I said, Ofcourse they wouldn't allow us civilians to go on an evening stroll on the LOC. This remark almost had me killed.
A UK caller said: We haven't slept all night. A bunch of us got together with some chilled beer and chicken wings and sat up all night.

And Finally, What I Am Saying:

Much like The First Giant Lie For The Mankind, did Prince actually fall through a 60 feet tunnel or did he start digging a hole around himself and after digging for many hours realized he was 60 feet below the MSL. (Mean Sea Level) Incase, he did fall through the hole, why isn't he bruised?
Why Prince was without a shirt, if he already knew every news channel was going to air him on prime television for forty eight hours? Also, he must have carried Mensa Book of Puzzles with him.
Finally, based on Edward De Bono's Lateral Thinking, instead of drilling through the same hole in which Prince was buried with a submersible bore-well machinery, they decided to dig a well 431 kms away, which proves EDB's LT is just another attention-grabbing blunderbuss.
To begin with, the media channels said, Prince fell into a 53' pit, followed by 57' and finally when he was saved, he was in a 60' pit, proving only one thing. He is a gold-digger and the Original Sin of a Caveman. Also, I felt he was camera shy.
Present in the pit were NO predators such as Ants, Earthworms, Jerboas, Armadillos and Chipmunks.

Yours Whendovesbray.

I share similar sentiments with everyone in India and abroad about the traumatic experience I shared with every other male-being who was sitting at a pub on Saturday night devoid of any female-being because all the female-beings I know were doing time at Gurdwaras, Temples, Churches, Mosques and Dar-E Mehrs praying for Prince's speedy recovery. I am writing about Prince's Untold Story only because I did not find anything highbrowed to wax about.

* Actors include Steve McPrince, James Gardener, Charles Bhupinderson

** It is a reality show hosted by Annu Kapoor and Renuka Shahane where seven participants are lowered into the Farmington Mine and are asked to sing while liberal amounts of Methane is pumped into this mine. The 16th Punjab Regiment, The Indian Grenadiers, The Royal Gharwal Rifles, 10th Princess Mary's Own Gurkha Rifles, The Indian Parachute Regiment and The Rajputana Rifles battle it out to rescue these participants. The regiment, which rescues it's schlemiel the slowest wins the competition.

*** A village that was nonexistent till Friday and miraculously appeared on Friday. Some villagers believe Amazing Grace was playing in the background during the rescue operation while the others argue; it was the Greatest Love Of All.

**** Son of Yesudasu and Amma Mariyamma, along with the able assistance of The Three Wise Men.

***** In an attempt to disprove, Square Pegs Don't Fit Into Round Holes, Prince the Cockamamie (not be confused by an incestuous son) jumped into, what was believed to be a chink in the metal.

****** Not to be confused by 666 Engineers Regiment of Falling Buildings, which was responsible for a number of building collapses during earthquakes. Anyways, 66 is NOT the total sum of engineers in the regiment but merely an arbitrary number. The number 45493439311 has never been used, for example, 45493439311th Gurkha Rifles, only because it was impossible to accommodate such a huge number.

*8 The rescue process was delayed because this team had to arrive from Geneva and Botswana.

*9 They provided unmitigated help by supplying Doodhi Aur Jowar Di Masala Rotis, Sarson Ka Saag and water. They also helped in being road blocks to easy emancipation.

*10 A jute bag used for carrying food grains. Also a rescue operation suggested by 1 billion - the rescue operators present at the site.

*11 A full-blown lady could not be lowered down through the hole because the rescue team was concerned about the tunnel caving in.

*12 Belongs to the Ku Klux Klan.

Karaoge Tea

2006-07-22T14:46:00.000+05:30

If you live where I live, then tea is considered to be ambrosia*. You have to believe me when I say my family is as passionate about tea as I am about sex. Citations:

You are at a funeral and somebody says, loud enough for everyone in the neighborhood, Chai** hoti, tho kitna achcha hota.
You have just arrived after a scathing journey in a defunct car in summer and the first thing you are asked is, how about a cup of Camomile?
They believe the Boston Tea Party of 1773 is about a number of tea connoisseurs sipping on East India Company's tea at The Waterfront. They believe the party was held to ceremonialize the acceptance of EIC Chai.
You have just finished a five-course meal at, say, The Grill Room and got home at 2:00 hours. Someone will say, lets have tea and the entire family is up on their feet, one boiling water, another boiling milk, another one has disappeared to Zhejiang province to fetch Oolong tea leaves and in less than ten minutes, everyone is holding fine bone-china the size of a pint tankard***.

Growing up was difficult for us, especially me. Everytime we would go to some party or the other, following dessert would be a round of Antakshari**** and Housie*****. This form of expression has now pussyfooted into urban areas and is popularly know as Friday Night Gians.

Every once in a while, my BIL and I go out to pubs on Fridays, by which, I mean, I have a chance to get away from my wife while my BIL has a chance to get away from his home bar. We tend sit away from the speakers and karaoke box****** and very close to the restroom and the bar.
Atleast six people will sing six, if not more versions of Hotel California*******.
Several people will also sing the most popular songs of Pink Floyd, Metallica, Guns N' Roses, etc., while they shake their heads vigorously and sibilate, depositing huge amounts of beer into the microphone.
Some anthropoid ape will challenge his mate to sing In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida********.
A biker chick, tattooed Rhonda Rash will sing, yes, you have guessed it right, Zombie.
A Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie will attempt to sing Hand in My Pocket or Head Over Feet*9.
An uncle somewhere will want to dedicate a song to his sweetheart*10 and sing Heartbreak Hotel*11.

Yours croakingtoadly.

* The drink that was responsible for Curtly Ambrose's lascivious lips. Exception to the rule is my BIL. Everytime anyone wants a cup of chai at home, my BIL will instantly down a thimbleful of alcohol. He has agreed NOT to take it easy and drink in moderation.

** Please do not be mistaken. Chai is NOT the name of the person dead.

*** Ofcourse there is a lot of confusion between half-empty or half-full. Eitherways your glass will be full in a moment. To avoid this befuddlement, my BIL never uses a glass.

**** The vernacular version of Karaoke popularized by housewives watching too many Hindi movies though my BIL always sings songs of Pankaj Udhas strangely. I never understood the connection.

***** Any game that is played indoors. My BIL always looses count of his numbers after number 9.

****** Usually a television set or a projector displaying the lyrics of the song. As the night progresses, this box is blinded from the singer by a bunch of drunk men and women, thereby

I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear
So I dub the unforgiven
I was kissin' Valentino
So kiss me and smile for me
Right through the very heart of it - New York, New York

only if it is an informed singer.

******* Versions include Sonu Nigam, Altaf Raja, Udit Narayan, Kumar Sanu, Abhijeet and Alka Yagnik. (female singer) Somebody with dreadlocks and unusually dark will attempt to do a Bob Marley version too.

******** By the time he finishes his own rendition of the song, the pub will be bereaved of any women population.

*9 Everytime someone sings terribly, my BIL stands on his feet and starts singing the National Anthem, thereby compelling other drunken patrons to stand up, which is the real problem.

*10 Usually half-his-age and smarter-by-half or a woman about his age dressed for a house warming ceremony.

*11 Very little singing interlaced with heavy suggestive pelvic thrusts, at times exposing his prostrate problem.

Shopping The Indian Way

2006-07-21T10:34:00.000+05:30

The acroamatic juxtaposition of hands is more commonly known as Namaste. In the beginning of time, calisthenics* was an accepted form of greeting both men and women. As time progressed and with the invention of hotdogs, this form of aerobatics was replaced by the Namaste.

The Namaste Protection Society was formed in the same year; Global Television Network Star Group Limited set foot in India. Over the years, the reverential and obeisant form of salutation has conspicuously depreciated with the advent of television shows like CSI: Miami, Rap music and Bad Boys I & II. Since then, the antiquated form of consecrated greeting has changed. It has been replaced by

Men hugging women, women hugging men, men chest bumping other men and if possible chest bumping women too.
The length of this form of greeting is directly proportional to the alcohol content in the body.
After shopping for some stuff downtown with mum, my father, upon sighting me says, Wazzup dawg? Whoz yer Big Daddy? He has completely transformed himself and currently sports our dog chain around his neck for the rap effect.

Shopping is an activity that should be, by definition, carried out in solitude though any activity carried out in my family is a group activity**. If you ever commit a mistake by letting my family know about, say, going to The Shop Around The Corner to fetch a bottle of Gaviscon, you can be sure that my dad, my mum and their dog will come along. I honestly love this sort of affection and fondness but it is just impossible to shop for, say, sexy muumuus or BVDs (Bradley, Voorhees & Day) with your family.

A few months ago, my wife and I were out of essential undergarments. On our way to the mall, we dropped over at my dad's place*** and before I could realise what was happening, both my dad and mum were ready to accompany us. I pssst-ed**** my dad to a corner and related my predicament.

We reached the mall and without wasting much time my dad headed to the lingerie section along with his wife (my mother) and my wife. (my wife)
I headed to the men's section and picked up several essentials such as underwear, undershirts and several police, surveillance, safety, self-defense and tactical equipment.
Honestly speaking, my wife is not very comfortable shopping for lingerie with her FIL. We are a happy family, I admit, but not just so happy. By the time, I got to the lingerie section, this is absolutely true, my dad was holding up a bra by both his hands, pinned it against his shoulder-blades, staring into the mirror and wiggling his butt oh-so-gently and screaming across the room, Beti yeh tum par achchi lagegi.
To make matters worse, he then asked some women assistants about How-To-Measure-Your-Cup and charged with this new ammo headed towards his DIL (not to be mistaken by Heart) and asked her succinctly for her cup size.
Unable to hold my laughter anymore, I dragged my dad away from the lingerie section. In a moment of utter lunacy, I dragged him to the negligee***** section.

Now both my dad and mum are aware of our sizes, which technically means, we don't have to be present for lingerie shopping from the next time onwards. My dad was generous enough to offer his services the next time we wanted to go shopping. He said, just let me know and if I am passing by the mall, I will just stop by and pick up stuff for you guys. What is your size again, beti?

Yours jee-stringly.

* You often find this form of greeting in Indian Cinema. This involves tripping on banana peels, kicking the bucket, breaking your 18" high heels and falling forward into the arms of the hero. This form of greeting hasn't changed since the time Satyajit Ray's dad was watching films. Also, calisthenics are fervently used in all dance sequences in all our movies and considered to be India's answer to Salsa.

** Except baby making.

*** As soon as we arrive at my dad's place, my wife runs into all the rooms to find my mother and then reads out a log of complaints till they agree that I am counterproductive. While this happens, my dad discusses the state of affairs of the Indian Cricket Team.

**** I called the Parent and Special Services Support Team. In some parts of the world, politically speaking, it means, loony-bin.

***** He loved a black negligee, which he thought would look superb on my wife. Everybody except him is aware of his Birthday gift.

****** Nihil ad rem. My BIL's son AK is an early bloomer. My BIL proudly says, AK finishes atleast one bottle of expectorant on a regular day.

Pratchett & Quiz

2006-07-20T10:55:00.000+05:30

Honestly speaking, it is absolutely impossible to hide an erection in public, especially if you are wearing jeans. Yesterday, my wife was on yet another shopping binge*, which means, I am usually out of sight and my wallet is missing. While we were at the shop, my wife decided to try on some very sybaritic and risqué tops**. For my uninformed readers, I am currently leading a life of vestal celibacy. For some strange reason, my wife agreed to revoke my bedroom rights.

If there was any possibility of progressing from a life of continence then it had to be last night. Much to my misery, soon after we got home, my sister and her family landed up. While I engaged my nephew with small talk about Superman, Harry Potter and Kkrish, my BIL was in a deep conversation with George Dickel or Bushmills The Whole Family. At 23:15 hours, AK*** decided to stay back at my place. This atrocity presented several problems

I was responsible for cleaning his bum.
I was responsible for preparing him for school in the morning.
I was responsible for feeding him breakfast.
I was responsible for packing him munchies to school.
And, he was going to sleep in our bed, which meant, I was responsible for telling him bedtime stories and putting him to sleep.

These were just a few of the several worries worrying me at that moment. Instead of hauling his ass and taking him home, my sister said, Hey, why don't you take care of your nephew tonight? Spend quality time with him and get to know each other? I couldn't budge out of this one. So, I told him the stories of The Shining, Rosemary's Baby and Psycho and ended it with humming the tune of Omen.

For my uninformed readers, I have recently acquired a great fortune of books written by Terry Pratchett****. I have a terrible habit of reading as many as four books at a time, thereby finishing four books in six months and mixing up all the characters. This is something one must never do while reading Pratchett. Pratchett himself is known to read atleast 14 books***** at a time while writing several books in one book. It is true; Pratchett's books on an average contain 32 parallel stories in 32 orthogonal universes trying to communicate with each other without a translator. The end result is usually chaos in one multiverse.

Incase you do not believe me,

As a smidgen of the polka-dotted purple sky smirked at Gallop****** in the quivering trilight, a silhouette of a kitten traipsed over the shards of a broken glass in Yank-Mopork*******. The moon shone over both the hemispheres discordantly exposing the thievery of the daylight.

Somewhere in the dark-alleys of Stroganoff a bunch of hooloovoos were listening to Concerto pathétique while they twiddled their nonexistent thumbs in a venerable fashion pondering thoughts on breaking The Epigraph of Disambiguate Tryangel.

While E. and T. with severed ears tried to intercept the echolocation of two anfractuous amoebae, P. and Q. were in search of an Ultrasonic Improvisational Composition device.

You know, that sort of thing.

While I was wasting time yesterday at the shop, I chanced upon Femina, the magazine.

Career Highlights: Antagonized.
I Kick-Start my Day With: Wife, I Wish.
I Pamper My Skin With: Fore Or Otherwise?
My Hair Loves: Curls.
I Primp My Eyes: Everytime I See My MIL.
My Favourite Beauty Treatment: Blow-Drying.
My Fitness Mantra: Do Not Follow One.
Pre-Party Quick Fix: Hugely Dependent On What The Hosts Are Serving.
I Keep Myself Stress Free By: Going On Frequent Business Trips.
What Keeps Me Energised: A Bunny.
On A Bad Hair Day: I Am Himesh Reshammiya.
Bed-Side Table Essentials: Rubik's Cube.
Growing Up: Hardly Ever.
If Not Romancing The Cameras, You Would: Romancing The Casting Couch.
Psychiatry! Why?: Huh?
No Women On Your List?: One, Hit-List.
You In A Nutshell: I Wouldn't Fit Into One.

I am going to go home and listen to some Soul Music now.

Yours ponderously.

* A medical condition that results in polyneuropathy, sexual dysfunction, marital conflict and hallucinations among men.

** Tops that have the risk of falling off uninformed.

*** An overgrown child who happens to be related to me only by the virtue of being my sister's brother (me, not him).

**** As recommended by Riggs.

***** A Guinness World Record.

****** A Unicorn.

******* Somewhere between Turkmenistan and Jacobabad.

I haven't made this up, but Important Notice: Have you all heard about the new rage in the country? This is absolutely true, Blog Rehab/Detox Centers. Apparently, at these places, patients are provided with a personal journal / diary and a pen to kick-off the habit. Ha-ha.

KKrishtopher Leeve

2006-07-19T09:11:00.000+05:30

Everybody in my family expect me is happy about the government's order to block blogs. That comes as a surprise, honestly. When I told my dad about it yesterday evening, he said, Thank God, atleast now you will stop making fun of my erectile-dysfunction in public. I never realised it made such a big difference to him.

I had to speak to The High Commission of India* to let me access my blog and publish new posts. All I had to say was, Tere saahib ko bolo, mein ek bahut bada VIP aadmi hoon. Soon after this short SMS to THOCI's phone, my blog was restored to normalcy.

My wife is ecstatic after watching Kkrish: A Caped Indian Hero for the third time, a few days ago. Apparently, my wife's Alma mater is now doing a case study on, this is true, the success of Kkrish. A huge argument extravasated between us when I remarked, Ha-ha, it appears your booby hatch** has way too much time and nothing important to do. I have yet again lost my bedroom rights***.

What they (makers) had to say about Kkrish:

Kkrish is not a copy of Superman***** primarily because his kacha is ungraspable. (This alteration from the original script has raised a furor among movie-goers, who are now asking the important question, Is it de rigueur to wear a kacha on the outside?)
There are several doubts about Superman's ability to father a child while Kkrish is proud father of a healthy baby boy named Kal-L.
Due to unavailability of dates, Marlon Brando could not play the role of Kkrish's dad. A self-portrait of Kkrish was developed to play his own father since nobody was willing to play his dad including Rakesh Roshan. Amrish Puri was unavailable for comments.
Kkrish unlike Superman possesses a vestigial thumb. Apparently, Kkrish derives his energy from jerking this thumb several times a day. In the later versions of the movie, this vulnerability will be readily available for the bad guys.
Unlike Superman, Kkrish bleeds. The director re-did the action sequences of the movie after screening the premiere, when many movie-goers said, Oh C'mon, this can't be true.
Unlike Superman, Kkrish is not from a different planet. Kkrish is fruit of a derelict father and Pat Welsh.

Following the phenomenal success of Kkrish, Filmcraft is toying with the idea of remaking The Matrix, titled Jantar Mantar with Hrithik Roshan playing Neo, Sushmita Sen playing Trinity and this is true, Dr. Avul Pakir Jainulabdeen Abdul Kalam playing Morpheus. Filmcraft believes in bringing avant-garde cinema to the Indian masses.

Story: (Only Spoiler)

Kkrish, the movie, begins with a bucolic and hideous looking butterball, drawing caricatures of his dead dad and mom. The granny is so impressed with his work; she enrolls him at Art Center, Pasadena. Kkrish has other plans. He decides to remain a proletarian, playing gully cricket with a bunch of retards. While Kkrish is mastering the art-form of being Charlatan**** Heston, Lois Lane arrives in the pahadis.

Lois Lane in an act of utter stupidity decides to go hang gliding****** when the operation goes horribly wrong and in a single-act of dare-devilness Kkrish much like Chow Yun-Fat flies over trees and saves Lois Lane. This act of kindness proves cataclysmic. Soon Lois Lane is introduced to Kkrish and they fall in love.

Lois Lane returns to Singapore and Kkrish also goes to Singapore, this is true, in search of his loin cloth, the one Lois Lane disappears with, after their one night in the bush. In Singapore, he discovers the many joys of other women.

While he is in Singapore, he hears about Lex Luthor (not played by Gene Hackman) who is building a one-stop-mall for all your family needs. In order to save the human population, especially men population from near extinction, he kills Lex Luthor and saves his dad.

He then takes Lois Lane and Jor-L back home, only to find out his granny is Nick the Van Driver.

The movie draws its ideas from Superman, Men in Black, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and Shawshank Redemption.

The film director is hoping that The Film Federation of India will choose Kkrish to represent India in the Original screenplay category. Ha-ha.

Yours kentlee.

* I met the THCOI in Singapore. We were both at the same mujra. After that day, I have been fleecing him handsomely.

** Sometimes referred to as Bra. My wife has studied at one of those B-schools, which expects you to have defended atleast two dissertations, published several white papers and aged close to fifty years. On the subject of white papers, I have published many too.

*** The rights restrict me from bringing my laptop into the bedroom. I am usually very happy to lose them. I am still practicing the art of concealed glee.

**** A cheap pun on Charlton Heston.

***** Apparently, during the filming of Superman Returns, Bryan Singer was confronted with an unusual dilemma. This is absolutely true and I am not making up any of it, Brandon Routh's package was really huge. The movie was delayed for several months while the Art Division team tried unsuccessfully to create a padded underwear that could conceal his proportions. Singer was facing three problems

He had to film his entire film without beaming below Routh's upper torso; which was quite impossible.
The design team offered a brilliant idea; replace Superman's tights and the conspicuous underwear with pyjamas. This was definitely impossible.
Incase Singer screened the movie without a contingency plan, he was risking a NC-17 (No One 17 And Under Admitted) rating from MPAA, which would mean, his target audience was restricted to people from Dwight David Eisenhower's administration.

After much deliberation, Singer ordered a Hydrocele be performed on Routh. The movie was stalled for four months during this commotion, thereby compelling Singer to make Titanic Revisited.

****** I am still trying to understand, which part of If at first you fail; hang gliding is not for you didn't she understand.

A Supplication

2006-07-18T11:19:00.000+05:30

Dear The Government of India,

How are you doing? I hope this letter finds you in the pink of your health. How is Sonia aunty diddling? Please pass on my good wishes to her. Have you ever comprehended the catastrophe it would cause if our current prime minister and Sonia aunty in a moment of sublime vulnerability got naked? They would then be responsible for the creation of Capo di tutti capi lovely Singh; who will head Cosa Nostra and live in Fatehgarh Sahib. The hypothetical occurrence of that is spine-chilling.

Yesterday, the entire online community was crying murder, since Sourav Chandidas Ganguly failed to impress for the eighty fifth time since his last double figure score of 17. They (the entire online community) want ICC to make a special consideration by allowing him to bat without a bat, thereby saving him a lot of embarrassment.

No I am kidding. The chart buster in India is no longer the Mumbai blasts but an infinitesimally insignificant subject; BLOGS. This is true, even the rural population of India is now aware of the blogging concept and are deeply condemning MNC's for paying huge salaries to their employees for maintaing dinacharyA patrikAs. A large section of the rural population wants to now move to cities like Bangalore, New Delhi and Mumbai and chase their online dream. This could give way to the Online Green Revolution after close to 50 years.

In another input; many MNC employees are jobless since the blocking of many unnamed blog sites. This vicissitude has caused confusion and upheaval among the employees propelling them to an uncommon phenomenon; work.

In a special update, when one of the officials was asked about the intelligence failure to avert the blasts in Mumbai, he said, It would be unfair to say that there was an intelligence failure as it is them (the terrorists) who decide the time and place to commit the crime. He continued, This time they were lucky and were able to strike through the blasts. Sometimes they are successful and sometimes us. On the subject of blocking blogs, he said, we wanted everyone, (Indians) especially The Spirit of Mumbai to be busy and distract them while we carry out our task of finding the culprits. The Director of Special Intelligence said this sort of ambush could distract the wrongdoers, thereby making a few mistakes and getting caught. The blogs will be resorted as soon as possible.

I suggest a few technological advancements that you (GoI) can implement for a huge chunk of money.

Much like the The Great Firewall of China, India must also begin building a concrete wall around the Indian borders. Kerala can be left unguarded since it can be an easy getaway for the Kozhikode Abdul Kader Menons of the world to the Middle-East. The real truth is we don't care.
India must also filter atleast 500,000 pornographic sites or sites with subversive content. This will ensure the country's increased literacy rate and also moderate the number of devar-bhabhi sex stories.
Blogs like How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb must be blocked because somewhere on the webpage will be a hyperlink to How To Assemble An Atomic Bomb.
India must print Jyllands-Posten Muhammad cartoons in all Indian newspapers, especially The Milli Gazette, thereby strengthening Indo-Pak camaraderie. India must not block blogs that publish such cartoons.
Induct computer savvy professionals to work for CERT-In. (CERTainly-INept)

It is my humble request to you to take care of impending problems in the country rather than harass a bunch of netizens who get their kicks by maintaining online journals about their day-to-day activities. Please ask Joginder Jaswant Singh* to find something important to do than rummage through my blog for some laughs. I know you are looking.

Yours parsimoniously.

* Chief of Army Staff of the Indian Army.

Sunday Revelations

2006-07-17T10:47:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, my dad told me the secret about our family. He said, I know, I have hidden this from you for a very long time and I am sorry for it. At this moment, my palms and brow turned sweaty, my butt-clenched, my heart raced faster in anticipation; I was going to know the secret about my family. After mulling over the thought for five minutes or so, with a sigh of relief, he said, Did you know we belong to the fair-haired, blue-eyed, superior and noble Aryan race? He continued saying, We belong to the fifth Root-Race and spring from one single progenitor and hail from Caucasus Mountains. It was his duty to pass this family secret onto me, which technically means, I-am-the-only-dumbass-alive-who-cannot-share-this-piece-of-information-with-anyone-because-I-will-get-stoned.

My wife is a member of the not-so-prestigious India Today Book Club. Every month, she gives me a catalogue of books that are available at 40% of their original price to choose from. For my readers, who are NOT members of this illustrious club, the selection of titles include ALENTEJO BLUEA Story Of Jealousies, Passions And Disappointments… Monica Ali, A Life Less Ordinary, A Story Of Courage And Grace…Translated By Urvashi Butalia, HARRY POTTER and the Half-Blood Prince, Now In Paperback... J.k. Rowling, India’s Legal System: Can it be Saved? A Frank And Thought-provoking Book On India’s Legal System... Fali S. Nariman, Faith Renewed... Dr. S. Radhakrishnan, Flat & Office Vaastu... Guru Kuldeep Saluja, Barron’s Creating Calm Meditation In Daily Life... Gill Farrer-halls, etc. I have to make an arduous yet simple decision every month to throw away the catalogue without viewing its contents.

Incase you did not know the secret to a happy marriage, here it is. Have two cars and one with a chauffeur. I have to admit, I learnt this technique from Teachings by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. Yesterday, my car dealer had a customer education program at his showroom followed by lunch. The owner called me personally to attend the CEP and support their cause. Since, I had particularly nothing to do, I decided to go for the meet.

I was surprised to see so many cars of the same make at one single gathering. Present at the showroom were a number of proud owners along with their wives, children and grandparents. The owner of the place was more than glad to see us. (wife and me)
The meet kicked off with the owner thanking us for endorsing their brand. He continued his never-ending speech with details about how the showroom started with a small capital of ten crores and fifteen employees and now has grown into a multi-million dollar money swindling conglomerate conning a number of customers to buy their products since their cars do not run on fuel.
I was appalled to see the kind of people who bought these cars. I am not snooty but I wasn't particularly happy to sit along with pan-chewing, thumb-impression, dhoti wearing, Bata slipped-on baniyas with torn Rupa baniyans. Accompanying them was their entire village population that had arrived the night before in a matador.
The company's technical staff provided us with all the information that we already knew about our cars. They did not provide us any tips on how to get to a safe place when your car conks off in the middle of the night and the closest gas station or workshop is farther away than the distance traversed between Mcleodgunj and Kanyakumari and the only possible form of communication is a carrier pigeon.
He gave us tips on driving the car, ignition, maintenance and a whole lot of unnecessary stuff only to be replaced by their sales head who was trying to sell me another car. He showed us a comparison chat that included cars like Maruti 800, Santro Xing and Indica V2 and highlighted how their brand was far superior in all aspects. He also pointed out that their car had a hood.
The next in line was the finance and insurance head who spoke about how insurance and finance companies had their asses covered and any damage to our cars was not going to be covered. He was absolutely refreshing and reassuring.
He was followed by their accessories division head who told us about the dual-tone painting works, fancy stickers like "1 01d y0ur 515 1n 7h3 8ack 53a7" and public address music systems.

Just when I thought we were done and I could head to a pub to down a stiff drink to neuter the CEP effect, the vice president of the organization declared an open house. None of the questions have been made up. I had written down every question asked at the meet on my conference pad; verbatim.

The manual clearly instructs us to use, this is true, Water for running our car. I thought this was absolutely ridiculous. After consulting my wife and the impending costs of petrol price hike, we decided to use Vanaspati instead, for the first one month. This has caused engine chocking, jerky motion, knocking and misfiring of the engine. As a result, our ECM has failed. What do we do now?
We bought the car in the month of March. After tank-fulling till the top, we went on a long drive. On our way back our car stopped abruptly. We do not know what happened and our car is still on the road for all these months. Your 24-hour call-centre could not come up with an ingeneous plan to recover my car. What do we do now?
A robber stole our left front tyre. Since that day I have been trying to replace my stephnei* unsuccessfully. What do we do?
I thought car fuel was covered under warranty. You cheated me. Now help me sell my car.
This one is absolutely true. Kya hai isme ban****? pandra lakh liye ho. bishaap maare tho bhi nahi chalti. Paise nikhalo maaki teri bhos****.
Then there was this one. I want to personally thank Mr.Singh for his efforts to organize this one-of-a-kind CEP. I am very satisfied with their service, beginning from pre-sale service, after-sale service and workshop maintenance. They have carried out their work in a professional manner. I wish Mr.Singh and his family all the very best in their future andivers. He read it out of a piece of paper that he extracted from his coat pocket.

I did not have the heart to say yes for the lunch that followed the CEP. Is anyone interested in buying my car?

Yours carfully.

* A french bar-maid who lives in the neighborhood.

Resurrection Of Ananyobroto Don Cupitt

2006-07-14T15:53:00.000+05:30

My wife has attacked me with a list of movies that she intends to watch. My presence is merely consequential to the extent of driving her to the movies only because the chauffeur is unavailable for late-night shows. The list includes:

Krrish (3rd time)
Superman Returns
Corporate (1 1/2th time. She wants to watch it again because we missed the titles and director's disclaimer)
Golmal
Strings
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (to be released)

Recently at a gathering, the conversation gamboled from one subject to another until it landed at movies. Everyone was giving his or her view on the best movies of all time, dissecting, discussing and arguing about them until it was my BIL's turn to pick his choice. For everyone uninformed at the gathering, (and some of you) my BIL's working knowledge about movies is nearly nonexistent. Without much thought, he said, Superman and followed it up with, I have watched Superman I, II, III & IV 37 times in total. Nobody understood why, until he said, Ban****, I have been watching Superman for the last 30 years with the hope that atleast in subsequent versions of the movie; the director will fix the Kacha. He was obviously drunk.

When I was growing up, I had a father with liberal views on religion. He used to say, paraphrasing Henry Ford; You can have friends of any color or religion - so long as they are Hindus. This latitudinarian view has weakened over the years but his recurring chimera continues to torment him.

Some of my closest friends then and now consist of Muslims, Christians, Jews and Women. I think, if my memory serves me right, during high school*, I was bum chums with two Christians. For the purpose of our discussion, I will refer to them with their initials, A** & D**. AD were good friends much before I went to school with them. They used to meet at balls on Sundays and jive to Engelbert Humperdinck or Barry Manilow with the catholic chicks and sip fruit punches till their mammas & pappas would come looking for them.

For some strange reason, I was friendlier with D than I was with A and this didn't fit well with A. It didn't take a lot of doing to be my friend back then. Buy me a Goldspot or Campa Cola and voila I was your friend. A made repeated attempts to get close to me and when all else failed, he turned to religion. He wouldn't watch porn with us, wouldn't listen to The Beatles since he believed that their music was The Hand Of Satan, wouldn't share a cola or a burger, nosirebob, nothing. He turned absolutely weird on us until one day, he convinced both of us to go to a certain Christian Congregation in some dilapidated convent school named Brothers Of St.Peter's or Fathers Of St.Mark's. He told us how Christianity as a religion was dying and a bunch of parishioners and brethren were working very hard to instill the faith of Jesus in everybody around them.

Though I am not a believer in God or one single religion like all urban educated folk, I follow Kabbalah. I am just kidding. I didn't have a problem going to this congregation but my father surely did. After much convincing by my mum, he agreed to let me go for this meeting.

We reached the location, a prime spot for day light rapes. It was a half-finished/unfinished whitewashed building with un-plastered stairs and walls. There were puddles of water everywhere with more water dripping through the roof.
Present at the gathering already were exceptionally empty Polypropylene chairs in a huge hall with no windows and artificial lighting. At the rostrum, stood a tall, dark, lanky chap in a habit with The Holy Bible (I guess) in one hand and a wooden Cross in the other. I swear, I am not kidding but he looked like Bela Lugosi. Also, by his side stood a bunch of people who were making sure that sound system was in order.
Bela was glad to see A and with a knowing smile, he greeted us. I have always been a back-bencher (not just academically) at school. Even before I could head back to the last row in the hall, Bela asked us to take the first three seats in the front row.
People started trickling in one after the other, greeting Bela and finding a suitable place to sit. I swear, I saw some pretty girls too. By the time the Prayer began, atleast 75 people had assembled in the hall.
Bela started telling us about the birth of Jesus, the second coming, etc. by which time, my cup had runneth over big time. I was terribly bored and being a first-bencher didn't help my cause. Somewhere during the discourse, vernacular Bela2 joined Bela and started literally translating the English verses into the local language. This brought about instant mirth in me.
Everything was going on smoothly till this happened. This is an absolute true occurrence. Everybody in the room kicked off their shoes, got off their chairs, got down on their knees and held their neighbor's hand. No such luck for me, I was sandwiched between A & D.
At this moment Bela asked everyone to close their eyes and let the Lord transcend into them, giving them the strength, courage and power to be honest to themselves, their neighbors and loved ones. He asked the people to believe in the Lord and speak the truth. He wanted us to confess*** our sins or wrong doings to the strangers in the night.
The indistinct murmur and undertones, at this point, suddenly broke into obstreperous and uproarious bawling and the entire room began to sway (not the room, the people) uncontrollably. Except me, everyone in the room including A & D were swaying incredibly. Even Bela was swaying with the microphone in his hand like a rock*.
A suddenly tightened his grip around my palm and begged me to cry. Not only did this break my silence into a giggling fit but also induced me into bopping A on the head. This seemed to have caused some imbalance in A. This is true; he lost his balance and tripped onto his neighbor thereby causing a chain reaction. Everyone in our row except D and me were on the ground.
After excessively crying for ten-fifteen minutes, A turned to me for forgiveness. He told me about how he hid my Chemistry Practical Recordbook, how he emptied my bike's petrol tank, how he finished my lunchbox without telling me, how he told my girlfriend that I was characterless (partially true) and finally how he wanted to be my best friend and did everything to rupture my relationship with D. Not knowing what to do, I gave him a big warm hug and never spoke to him ever since.

After the Prayer everyone went home and watched How Stella Got Her Groove Back, a soul-stirring movie about how Stella goes back to loving children half her age. They all thanked Bela for his discourse. The Prayer had dangerously exceeded my time and when I got home, I was greeted by a grim sister and a grimmer dad waiting for me at the dining table. On spotting me, he said, Hello there, Mr. John Mathiah and continued his niceties with a food prayer, Rub-a-dub-dub, Thanks for the grub. Amen.

Yours holyspirits.

Disclaimer: The practices, principles and beliefs, depicted in this post represent absolutely nothing. The information found on this blog does not apply to any other blog but this blog or with any other blog but that of Qwerty's. I do not claim to be a historical expert on the anything, I am not an expert in the language and may have committed many grammatical errors. I have derived my beliefs from oral traditions. And no, you cannot contact me for the reason you are asking. I don't wish to be harassed. Only one bugeye bumble bee was hurt. It is absolutely kosher.

* Even though it has been a couple of decades since I quit school, the memory of this incident still remains. It is a chick magnet story and I use it generously.

** D continues to be a distant friend. We speak once in a couple years. I am not sure what happened to A. I met him once at a Chinese restaurant with a girl and his mother. He had apparently finished Engineering from some fly-by-night operator school and was hoping to start working as a Medical Compounder at his dad's clinic.

*** The confession I never made to A. For a very brief period, between his breakup and reconciliation with his then girlfriend (no shame, she was Mighty Aphrodite), I extended a helping hand and a compassionate shoulder for her to lean on. I promise, I did all in the name of Thy Lord.

Foreign Movies, Bengali Movies And The Universe

2006-07-14T10:17:00.000+05:30

This morning, I was thinking about the battle of the sexes, its origin, propagation as a function of self-pollination and the test of time. Centuries ago, when Ape Man and Jane* were the only two people walking Mother Earth with gay-abandon, things were all going fine until the invention of Civilized Defecation. The invention of CD, led to the discovery of WC. This was really the critical mass, the defining moment that sparked the battle of the sexes. My wife insisted that we must have the WC seat grounded while I argued we must have it raised. The argument never ended, thereby propelling us to miss breakfast and head to work at break-neck roadkill speed. This argument also resulted in a) Balancing the WC seat at 45 degree angle with the assistance of a stick b) Opening the Encyclopedia Britannica and typing out the story on battle of the sexes.

My wife and her family are arty-farty lovers of alien-language movies. If you ever happen to visit my in-laws place or for that matter my place, you will find innumerable DVDs that cannot be watched without a translator. I recall, we had to cancel watching a movie due to the unavailability of Russian, French, Italian, Japanese and Uw Oykangand language translator. The interesting part is my-inlaws watch movies** like La Dolce Vita, Satyricon, Höstsonaten, Det sjunde inseglet, Yojimbo, À bout de souffle, Le Mépris, Roma città aperta, Rashômon, La Nuit américaine and Jules et Jim without, this is true, subtitiles while I sit there chewing gum and hoping for a nude scene. I just hate those film appreciation sessions where my inlaws (including PP's mum, my wife) sit together and watch two or three foreign films back-to-back without subtitiles. I am not entirely kidding but my FIL's fascination for la Nouvelle Vague stems from a trip to Europe on Thomas Cook vacations.

I recall, when I was first introduced to my to-be in-laws, my to-be wife categorically told me that her parents were aficionados and bon vivants of cinema, theatre, art and wine. She insisted that I must resist myself from calling Michael Madhusudan Dutt, Shakti Chattopadhyay or Joy Goswami bongs. I wasn't aware this was such a serious issue until her family initiated me into bengali poetry and movies much before our marriage.

I can proudly say, I have watched most of the movies made by Bimal Roy, Satyajit Ray, Ritwik Ghatak, Rituporno Ghosh, Pramathesh Barua, etc. For my avid readers, I suggest***, Devdas, Madhumati, Meghe Dhaka Tara, Komal Gandhar, Subarnarekha, Heerak Rajar Deshe, Aparajito, Choker Bali and ofcourse Pather Panchali.

Upholding the Bengali spirit, sometime last year, my inlaws decided that we must (Chintu's family, PP's family, wife and yours truly) watch Antarmahal: Views Of The Inner Chamber as a family since the movie featured Jackie Shroff, Abhishek Bachchan, Roopali Ganguly, etc. I am not kidding you but the movie was a treat. The parents were busy trying to close the eyes of their respective kids while I was trying to hide my face in my nonexistent bosom.

The movie is about how Jackie Shroff, a Zamindar, who cannot beget children and he keeps changing wives to try new positions. He desperately needs progency (preferably male) to carry forward his legacy and he employs every possible person in town to help him achieve it. To appease the Queen of England, he decides to overthrow his old sculptor with a bare-chested AB to make a figurine of Kali Mata with her body, this is true, and the Queen's head. He believes, this might help his wife conceive. OK, I was kidding. He then employs a pujari who insists by chanting some secret vedas while Shroff is in action with his newife, he can help Shroff and his newife have a baby. The newife is dismayed and sharooshed by His Zamindar's idea and decides to commit suicide. At that point, the oldwife makes an appearance. She seduces the pujari and get seduced by the bare-chested AB building a Kali Mata figurine with a Queen's head.

--INTERVAL--

I will leave it upto you to figure out what happens next. The movie is reflective of normal Bengali families though the director begs to differ. He says, Yes, it is true with unlikely exceptions.

This zealotry extends to Indian Theatre too. People like Geoffrey Kendal, Naseeruddin Shah, Lillette Dubey, Tom Alter, Girish Karnad, Saeed Jaffrey, Shabana Azmi, etc are always mentioned in our conversations. I recall, answering a question, I said, PVR, Regal, Odean and Paras are fine Indian Theatres. My FIL thought I had a sense of humor until he figured out I was not kidding. From that day onwards, my FIL stopped treating me as his SIL.

Dada, ami baachte chai.

Yours educatedly.

*History of Jane: Jane is Plain Jane with extraordinary good looks and huge breasts. She comes to the jungle with a bunch of amateur hunters in search of rhinoceros horns, tiger penises and turtle eggs. Soon after they arrive, Jane decides to stay back at base camp and read some mind-numbing John Collins book. Her friends and a bunch of aboriginals instruct her not to wander away from the camp. Ofcourse, like in all movies and books, Jane decides to stroll through the jungle insouciantly only to be snared by one of Ape Man's bOOby traps, which knocks her unconscious. She wakes up to find herself in Monkeyland surrounded by monkeys and Ape Man. (Look alike of Hermes, with six pack abs and a well toned muscular body in a loin-cloth) Jane then enjoys a Banana Split, which happens to be the cardinal and fundamental point of no return in the History of Mankind.

** I have spent close to forty-five minutes with a selection of the aforementioned DVDs before my computer trying to find special-characters such as "ö, À, é, ô" on my keyboard. I figured, I had to use Programs >> Accessories >> System Tools >> Character Map to find them. I had to insert those characters for authenticity and foreign effect.

*** I didn't spend forty-five minutes since they did not contain any special characters.

Any Given Thursday

2006-07-13T10:53:00.000+05:30

Every now and then, I go through bouts of maladroitness, by which, I mean, I do not have enough creative ideas to write about until something happens in my wife's family.

Critical Acclaim for my blog. Entirely fictional.

The very blog I have been looking for most of my life...It represents virginal education, and all schools will be better places if they made this blog a part of their curriculum.
I defy any reader to be bored by any of its contents. Genuinely enthralling. Unintentionally precise. Flamboyantly encyclopaedic. In toto, an imaginative and penetrating storyteller who dared to retell the Big Bang Theory.
Gripping, utterly absorbing and leaves one gasping for many more. Seldom have I rooted so hard for a set of fictional individuals. I am in awe of his capacity for finding detail in nothing.
I love this blog. Screamingly funny. I want to marry him.
The first blog that looks at humor as a practice and as such should be necessary reading for everyone in the human gene pool.
When I finally did get hold of the website, I was prepared to hate it. But I ended up loving it and reading it slow because I didn't want it to end.

Sometime ago, one of my wife's cousin decided it was his turn to do the saath pheras. Essentially, marriages around the world are divided into two categories: a) Love b) Ekta Kapoor. I chose the easier way out. I found the then girl of my dreams and changed it into naked reality. My folks were more than happy with my choice because they figured it was the easy way out for them too.

I have to admit, in a perverse way, marriage is like a garment store. You have great fits, great colors, expensive ones, cheap ones, defects and most importantly, way too many to choose from. Lately, you have seconds sales too. I chose mine when it was very dark. This guy decided to break the rules. He decided to marry someone of his parents' choice. Everyone appreciated his decision until my wife and I were also invited to see the girl(s).

I did not want to go to help my wife's cousin make a decision about his marriage. I was unwilling to influence his decision. After all, I was not going to live the rest of his life with her. My wife decided that we must accompany him and his family to check out the girls.

The entourage consisted of my cousin's father, mother, two sisters, their two children, his grandmother, my wife's parents, my wife, me and several chauffeurs. My FIL also contemplated bringing his dog.
Even as we left home, I had a bad feeling about this trip and by the time we reached their place, the feeling became real. I never knew my ex-girlfriend had a pretty little sister.
The entire family seemed to display a certain amount of hostility as I walked in. When hostility is coupled with familiarity, its time for double whammy. Except for my ex-girlfriend, her mother, father, sister and my wife, none of the others present at the gathering were aware of my predicament, thankfully.
I sat crosslegged, away from my ex-girlfriend's father while the entire place broke into a furor of activity. People were laughing, sherbats and knickkancks were being passed around, and conversations about preparation for the impending marriage being fervently discussed.
Just when I thought everything was going okay, the attention suddenly shifted towards me. My ex-girlfriend's father broke my silence with a quick-fire questionnaire that included several unnecessary questions.
I managed to answer most of his questions without raising too many eyebrows. I still suspect my FIL has his own doubts.

A few weeks later, my wife told me that her cousin is going through with the marriage and with a smirk said, We will be one happy family!

Yours woebegone.

Chinese Horoscope Refreshed

2006-07-12T14:02:00.000+05:30

I am absolutely crestfallen and inconsolable. France lost and Zizou's head-butting trend will be the newest form of greeting a friend. I am not certain but my inside sources report, Zizou lost his temper when Materazzi said "Hé Zizou, how are those genoux (knees) algériens holding up?"

Let me clear the air for all my avid readers. Absolutely nothing happened the other night after our love talking at the restaurant. I am being honest. I do not lie, not atleast to you beautiful people.

Like all urban educated people, my wife and I love Chinese food. I have to admit, I have never ever visited a place, like Haridwar, where I have noticed locals order Char kway teow and water it down with Coca-cola. This strange phenomenon is a hit with only urban educated folk. Scientific studies have proven that this chinese phenomenon is more prevalent among men and women who are clueless about the art of cooking. They have a Maggi 2 Minute Noodles addiction. Also, urban educated people believe large portions of Chinese cooking with lots of Monosodium glutamate will give rise to babies with Chinese features. I am not kidding you all but, this is true, at a high-class Chinese restaurant, I saw a couple asking for Aji no Moto and mumbling that they didn't serve it.

Anyways, my point is, at all Chinese Restaurants, to make asses out of their customers, the stewards serve Kimchi (a Korean delicacy) and a Chinese calendar that features twelve animals while they run into the neighborhood to catch frogs. Incase, you haven't noticed, studies reveal, if the waiting period between ordering and eating a chinese meal is calculated, the communism in China can be easily eradicated. Also, as a part of, this is true, anger management, psychiatrists compel patients to order as many Chinese meals as possible.

Imagine this daily scenario:

You are at a Chinese restaurant. After placing an order for soups and hors d'oeuvre, the steward brings in a big bowl of Kimchi that includes napa cabbage, cucumbers, carrots, a bunch of scallions and kohlrabi sautéed with several chunks of Offal food. While your family and you gormandize on this unsavory and unappetizing Korean delicacy, the steward brings in several copies of the Chinese calendar that hasn't been reprinted since 1962. Starting with everyone present at your table, your adjacent table, your opposite table and if possible all the tables in the restaurant, your father, sister or your mother will read aloud their respective Chinese horoscopes and laugh incredulously while you are frothing at the face with embarrassment. This process continues till food arrives at your table. (You will also experience giggles and chuckles when one of them will say, Hey you are a sheep or a rooster or a snake.)

Incase, you visit the same restaurant or another Chinese restaurant again the next day with a different bunch of people, someone in your group, as insane as your family will repeat the process until food arrives. If, you happen to, for some incredibly stupid reason, visit the same restaurant with your family the following day, your dad or mother or sister will continue their Christmas cheery mirthfulness till the food arrives.

I can vividly explain these scenarios only because, I have experienced them.

The Rat: The most common uninvited pets that destruct your clothes and food. The best known rat species are Black Rats (Rattus rattus) that are present in all households. The species that was responsible for the invention of The Pied Piper Of Hamelin.

In Hindu mythology, rats have a significant presence too. Lord Ganesh is always associated with a friendly neighborhood rat as his ride. It has been sighted, in some parts of America, for the revered Ganesh Chaturthi festival, Indians, especially south-Indians, were found praying to Bandicota bengalensis, since they could not procure an idol of the Lord.

Rat people are hugely charming, affectionate, attractive and very mouse-like. They are also clairvoyant and insightful. Last sighting: Mousehunt. The movie, The Secret Of NIMH, an adaptation of Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH is a true story based on my wife's family.

Warfarin continues to be the keys to good health for a Rat!

Greatest Affinity: Cheese.
Greatest Enmity: Cat.
The Rabbit: Rabbits brought about the resurgence of Cuniculture. Rabbits are the reason why Prophet Mohammed (pbuh) denounced family-planning, which was later popularized by, Gandhi. Pbuh instead asks all his disciples to follow Azl, the Latin substitute for coitus interruptus. It is no surprise that rabbit people can produce eighteen offspring every 3 months. It still remains to be a medical mystery.

In the movie Attack Of The Killer Rabbits, humans are domesticated and spayed by mutant rabbits. American Moslem Foundation criticized the movie for spaying, this is true, some moslem men.

Bunnies, interchangeably used with rabbits have given rise to many kinks including Sexy Bunny Costumes and Bugs Bunny among children.

Rabbit people are the luckiest ones! They are cautious, business minded and naturally shy peacemakers. They inspire deep admiration and trust. The only recorded case of Treponema cuniculi (Rabbit Syphilis) occurred in USA when a man was found beeping a mail-order-bunny.

Kill The Wabbit! is one of the keys to good health for a Rabbit!

Greatest Affinity: Carrots, Bugs Bunny.
Greatest Enmity: Elmer Fudd.
The Dog: Canis lupus familiaris is a loyal, honest and an obedient guardian of the house at night. In dog years, on an average, a man can live upto 8 years. A few basic breed types of dogs have evolved gradually during the domesticated dog's relationship with man over the last 10,000 or more years. I personally think that's sick.

Dog people are not very social and are better with one-behind-the-other relationships. The phrase "It's a dog eat dog world" brought about the 69 revolution. Dog people have sharp tongues and have been found to wag them at times.

Dog Day Afternoon is a complex movie about the labyrinthine relationship between Attica (a dog) and a man, when the man (hostage) exhibits loyalty to Attica (dog). Based on the movie, in 1973, The Norrmalmstorg robbery occurred. The movie was condemned by movie critics all over the world for creating life-like situations. This condemnation spawned the "Based On True Story" movie revolution.

Antifreeze is the one of the keys to good health for a Dog!

Greatest Affinity: Women.
Greatest Enmity: Other dogs.
The Pig: My wife's side of the family.
The Monkey: Hugely popularized when Valmiki wrote Ramayana. Semnopithecus (Hanuman) was the protagonist of the epic. The story is about how a monkey rescues a lady from the evil clutches of Dasagriva and elucidates the inadequacies of a much beatified Prince. It is a poignant tale of insubordination. The fable was ably marketed by our erstwhile Doordarshan. Hanuman also featured as a winged monkey in The Wizard of Oz.

Such was the popularity of the show; the Chinese then remade Ramayana for China, titled, Journey To The West written by Valmiki-san. Hanuman was replaced by Sun Wukong, a fictional character.

The monkey then made inroads into Chinese martial art as a form of Monkey Kung Fu. The most famous version of Monkey Kung Fu is Drunken Monkey, which my BIL has mastered. This style involves flapping his hands and legs in jerky and confusing movements, in an attempt to grab a bottle of Merlot purely in self-defense.

Monkey people have an innate ability to make fools of themselves. Grooming, a form of bestial petting was also introduced to humans by monkey people. Monkey people have a burning desire for knowledge.

Tweeter And The Monkey Man is one of the keys to good health for a Monkey!

Greatest Affinity: Banana split.
Greatest Enmity: Humans aping them.

I have covered the characteristics of all the animals in my family. I never bothered reading the rest of them. Incase, anyone wants me to send you your Chinese Horoscope, I am willing to do that for a plate of Chicken 65.

Yours ofunwong.

Excusez-moi. Tamaru bathroom kya che?

2006-07-11T19:57:00.000+05:30

There comes a time in everybody's life when he has to decide, what is wrong or right and yesterday, I was in that position. I had to choose between staying home and going out of town on a trip to my wife's family function. I didn't have much of a choice.

I am still alive and will continue writing my inane posts starting tomorrow. I was at a place where cyber cafes were non-existent and my wife was unwilling to let me carry my laptop. She figured out that I would be writing a post for my blog all through the function.

Incase, anyone of you thought I had been fanaa-ed, I am sorry to disappoint you.

I love you all.

Yours apologetically.

What Dreams May Become

2006-07-08T08:50:00.000+05:30

Yesterday night, my wife and i decided to go out for a quiet dinner. I have to admit it has been a very long time since we did that. We have been arguing too much over the last couple of months and it was time for some love talking.

Mission: Impossible IV: (Movie Spoiler Included)

Mission: Impossible IV is all set to ameliorate what Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible II and Mission: Impossible III have failed to deliver. This edition of the movie like all the earlier editions will be imbecilic and vapid and contain mindless action, sex and deception. As a second in command to Jean-Luc Godard who is absolutely excited about directing this fourth edition, I have some inside information.

Yes, you have all guessed it right. The movie will be directed in French and dubbed and remade into several languages including Hindi. Our latest caped indigenous Superman Hritik Roshan will play the role of Tom Cruise. The movie title has been aptly changed to preraNa: asambhav saintaalis. Due to difficulties translating "Ethan Hunt" literally into Hindi, Hritik Roshan will be called Shikari Shambu. Search is on for the perfect dumb blonde.
Philip Seymour Hoffman who was unheard of until Capote, atleast in India, has been voted indubitably to play the role of Ethan Hunt using the highly abused face masking technique though Godard has clearly instructed Hoffman to shake off a few calories and gain some height. This change has irked many movie aficionados and Cruise fans but Cruise was unavailable for a comment. He was apparently caught man serving Carrie-Anne Moss and his publicist in Tahiti.
Yes it is true, there is some confusion about Philip Seymour Hoffman sharing the bed with Michelle Monaghan. This movie will also feature Ethan Hunt Jr., though movie critics believe Godard has plagiarised this idea from Face/Off. I heard Monaghan saying, I am never going to sleep with that fat bastard.
The mystery about the "rabbit foot" continues. J.J. Abrams, the director of M:I 3, a devout Jew, in a private tête-à-tête has admitted the contraption (rabbit foot) contains, this is true, his father's testicles. Godard is going to officially replace the "rabbit foot" with "rabbit pearl". The Art Direction Department is currently working on design issues.
The movie will also include some never seen footage of Ethan Hunt Jr. learning martial arts at Shaolin Temple Kung Fu School, Lake Wanaka. The entire movie is being shot in a desert keeping in view French hygienics.
The film like always, will not contain a plot. Ethan Hunt will not be saving Americans from Aliens, Ultra-Violet Rays as a result of Ozone Depletion, Global Warming, Mars Attacks!, Jurassic Park, King Kong, Twelve Monkeys, Whoopi Goldberg or Six-headed Shaolin Monks. A fifth edition of the movie is still a distant dream.
They have decided to discard Laurence Fishburne from the new edition. This is true, in an interview, on the subject of How will you ask Carrie-Anne Moss on a date? he said,

Trinity, hear me! I have imagined this moment for a long time. Is it real? You have never believed in Me. I don't know what I can do to save us but I do know that as long as there is a single breath left in my body I will not give up.

Believe me when I say we have a difficult time ahead of us. But if we are to be prepared for it, we must first shed our clothes. I stand here, before you now, truthfully unafraid. Why? Because I believe something you do not? No, I stand here without fear not because of the path that lies before me but because of the rabbit hole that lies behind me. Tonight, let us shake this cave. Tonight, let us tremble these halls of earth, steel, and stone, let us be heard from red core to black sky. Tonight, let us make a night together.

No, what happened, happened and couldn't have happened any other way. All of our lives, we happened to fight everyone. Tonight I believe we can end it. Tonight is not an accident. There are no accidents. We have not come here by chance. I do not believe in chance. When I see you, I do not see coincidence, I see providence. I see purpose. I believe it our fate to be here. It is our destiny.

Now consider the alternative. What if I am right? What if tomorrow we can consummate this relationship? Isn't that worth fighting for? Isn't that worth dying for? Given your situation, I can't say I fully understand your reasons for volunteering to rock on my boat. However, if you wish to continue to do so, I must ask you to do one thing. I want you to feel, smell, taste and see me, and not merely as simple electrical signals interpreted by your brain. I want you to remember the reason that we are here is because of our... affinity for disobedience.

Have you ever had a dream, Trinity, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world? This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. I take the blue pill - the story begins here, we wake up in your bed and believe whatever we want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and live happily ever after with Neo.

No. This is not another training program designed to teach you anything. Is it going to be Neo or me?
Mike Myers was also considered for the roll of Ethan Hunt but after a rhubarb between the management and him on shredding his androgenic hair, he has returned to playing Shrek.
The entire problem began with Tom Cruise's unavailably to partake in the fourth edition. He is currently living the life of a gigolo for his upcoming role in Classic Bamboo Cane.
Apparently Danny DeVito was also considered to play the bad guy but due to cinematographic difficulties, he was shown the red card. Inside sources have it, Godard was unable to pan the camera onto Ethan Hunt and DeVito at the same time. Either Ethan's head or Vito's head, one of them kept disappearing.
In an update, irrelevant to M: I 4, during the Hunt for the new James Bond, Tom Cruise was also considered. In a public statement, Harry Saltzman (of EON Productions fame) said, He Is Not Man Enough.

I hope Mission: Impossible IV will be just as invigorating as all its predecessor. I am so excited.

Yours bornonthefourthofjuly.

Love Forwards

2006-07-07T10:42:00.000+05:30

I committed an excruciating mistake this morning. I decided to go back to the health club. Just an ephemeral loss of ratiocination. Unlike my father or my wife's father, I do not live in an independent house with a yard big as Bombay reclamation. We live in an upmarket chawl with common latrines, by which, I mean, we experience many squalid moments. This morning, I saw, this is true, four corpulent and lardaceous women in nighties walking in the common area, oblivious to their surroundings. I am not a superstitious man but I knew instantaneously, it was going to be a very bad day.

Hypothetical Q: There is already one Aloo Parathat (north-Indians) or Malaise Dosa (south-Indians) in your plate and your wife brings you another hot hot [insert food item]. What would you do? Eat the new [insert food item] or the relative old [insert food item]? This is a psychometric Q. It will help me measure latent traits among my avid readers.

Anyways, does anyone remember these lines? "What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died? That...." Yes, I am talking about the same email forward that is going around in circles since the advent of Internet.

Please forward this message to everyone. A poor 5-year old girl in Mt. Buggery with three arms needs money for a surgery before her redneck parents will sell her for a clown roadshow. If you do not forward this email, you do not have a heart.
If you do not forward this message, Ewansiha, a malnutritioned pygmy in Guinea-Bissau will not be able to feed his ailing Elephant. Your 10c can make all the difference.
Please send this message to as many people as you can. It will bring you bad luck if you don't. Kallikantzaros in navy blue suits will creep into your bed at night and violate you. They have a special ability to shrivel penises.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Send this to all the people you've cheated and remember to also send it to the person who sent it to you. It is a short message to let them know that you'll never forget them. If you don't send it to anyone, it means you don't want to remember anyone. And don't forget to run in the rain!
Included is a picture of a rare sighting of an Rhesus Macaques butt in Guangxi Zhuang. One man forwarded this photo to 13 other threatened & endangered species and he got promoted. Another one who threw it away, not believing in it, not only lost everything he had, but also was bitten by the Rhesus Macaques in the picture. It is believed, he may be the Father Of Modern AIDS. One more, a longshoreman during The Great Depression, forwarded this message to 13 co-workers and within 13 days became the next Billy Conn. So, please send this email to a friend, foe, brother, sister, wife, MIL. You never know.
Within one hour you must send it to other people. Within five days you will have a miraculous occurrence in your relationship. You will be relieved of your duties as a husband or find new love or have an old love turn psychotic. If you do not send it, you will have once again passed up the opportunity to do something loving and beautiful. If you are not the intended recipient, please note that any dissemination, distribution or copy of or reliance on this communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this message by error, please notify the sender immediately and permanently delete the message from your system unless you have necessary and sufficient information to blackmail. Thank you for your co-operation. But, if you have received this it is because someone cares for you and it means there is a probability that you care for someone.

If you are too busy to take a few minutes to forward this to ten people, would it be the first time you didn't do that little thing that would make a difference in your relationship? [Oh the guilt!]

Here is the deal: Forward this letter to at least 10 different people within 1 hour of receiving it to people who care for you; the ones that bring about a warm glowy feeling within you.

THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT TO YOU BECAUSE YOU MEAN SOMETHING TO SOMEBODY. PLEASE SEND IT TO YOUR FRIENDS AND THOSE THAT YOU LOVE. A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED.
Never seen footage of Tirupathi Devasthanam. This letter has been sent to you for good luck. This is not a forward. Please do not ignore it. You will be the recipient of GL within 48 hours. This letter is not a propaganda by Tirumala Tirupathi Devasthanam to invite devotees over the Internet to send us money. Nor is it a cheap alternative to advertise. Please do not hold this email in your inbox for more than three days because that will then bring you bad luck. AIYANA received several mail-order-bunnies after passing on this chain letter. BONAVENTURA lost an undisclosed amount of family jewels at the Russian Roulette for breaking this chain. Believe it or not!
This message has been forwarded by Tenzin Gyatso, His IGotTooMuchTimeOnMyHandness. Please solve this riddle and forward it to atleast 5 people. You will receive a special mantra for extended virility. If you send it to 0-4 people; your life will still remain in the dumps. If you send it to 4.5 - 7.3 people; your life will be devoid of decimals. If you send it to 8-11 people; your life will take a paradigm shift. If you send it to 12-19 people; you will move out of the dumps. If you send it to 20-34 people; you will be intercepted by your Management Information Systems Team at work who inturn will send an email to your immediate boss and the CEO. This is true, try it.
PLEASE pass this email to everyone you know and well, don't know. It is the special request from a queer girl. She has been diagnosed with Cancer. She has very few months left, and as her undying wish, she wanted to send this letter telling everyone NOT to live their lives King-size. She never went to the prom, graduated from college, or got married. By sending this email to as many people as possible, you can give her a reason to smile. She is Linda Goodman. PLEASE PASS THIS EMAIL AS A LAST REQUEST.

I hope all of you have the time to send my blog to all inanimate objects. I am sure you can pass it to atleast five or six of them. There is no ulterior motive. Its not even your money, just your precious time! React now.

Yours backwardly.

Retirement Bus Apna Kaam Se

2006-07-06T12:25:00.000+05:30

I think Jorge Larrionda should be kicked out. Nobody ever listens to me, not even our dog. Though, France were the favorites to go through, my heart bled for Portugal. Finally Luiz Felipe Scolari's run at the World Cup has ended.

Am I abnormal or do you all wake up with a song stuck in your head? Well, this morning when I woke up, I was humming, this is absolutely true, the OST of KANK or more commonly known as Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, which has prompted three things. a) My wife has bought the music CD of the movie. b) She will be allowing me to sleep in our bed tonite. c) I will be seeing our family doctor secretly.

Yesterday, I had to drive my mother all over town since she wanted to shop for several clothes. Apparently, my dad did the Houdini's Vanishing Elephant Act when my mum asked him to drive her around town. I am very disappointed with my dad. He does not take responsibility of his wife.

A few weeks ago my wife's uncle was retiring from work at the age of 77. I would never want to work to be 77, let alone live to be 77. Honestly, I still do not know the reasons for his retirement. His children had a get together at their ancestral home and we were all invited. Truthfully speaking, I am not a fan of retirement parties. They closely replicate a solemn High Mass.

I was dressed in a 3 piece RETRO funky disco leisure suit with Lavender Minky Velvet with Snow Leopard Fur Coat and a walking stick to go with the occasion. My wife does not necessarily approve my humor with dress sense. After a lengthy argument, I agreed to forsake the fur coat though I was unwilling to go to the party without my anti-shock nordic walking stick.

We reached her uncle's ancestral home at 18:30 hours and the place was buzzing like a geriatric ward on dextroamphetamine. Everywhere I saw, there were only aged people, which I believed, should not be unnatural at a retirement get together. I have never seen so many Montgomery caps, Military berets, Derby and Bowler hats and Gaucho hats all at one place. I am not kidding you. I even spotted someone in a ski cap. The place was unreal. Men in black hoods with scythes were guarding the place at strategic points.

Before I could turn around and walk away, her uncle spotted us.

Mathematically speaking, if her uncle made six friends every year and lost one friend every year, present at the party were 385 old people. This list did not include the family. There were more people at this party than there were at my wedding.
They all had seen and survived both the world wars. While we were holding our fruit & sherbat punches aloft, her uncle broke into a never-ending world-war monologue. The monologue wasn't as bad as the speed at which it progressed.
Numerous round tables with half-a-dozen high-seating chairs were ensured by my wife's cousins. None of them appreciated my aesthetic faculties to organize a Chowki dinner. I recall, my wife jabbed an arm into my stomach and said, stop being an insensitive oaf.
I was glad to notice that this reunion did not have a theme. Can you all fathom the number of luminaries and freedom fighters that would have turned up? Imagine 231 bodies in semi-nude clothing, loin-cloths, wire-rimmed glasses, shaven heads and a penchant for cultivating male sexual engery using Yin and Yang theory.
Special care was taken to ensure that the food was easy to chew.

After the party; at 20:30 hours everyone gathered around her uncle. Everyone present at the gathering got him many thoughtful gifts. I do not recall any names of the people present at the gathering.

One of his friends got him a Rotisserie Kit, Kebob Set, 6-Pack Double Prong Skewers, Kill-Anything-With-It Bug Zapper, Nonstick Rib Rack, Oversized Big Head Spatula, Tickle My Kebobs Apron & Keep Your Mitts About Your Tits Mitts. No, his friend did not buy all these things. He merely got him the catalogue.
His sister, I mean, my wife's uncle's sister got him a dog. She said, I thought of many gifts till I read someplace, A dog is a man's best friend. Everyone had a laugh except yours truly.
A friend of his got him an online subscription for 1-year on Playboy. Unlimited Access! Unlimited Downloads! Very thoughtful.
He received several walking sticks in different colors, shapes, sizes, materials, etc. I have advised him to open a store and make some money. He scorned deviously at me.
Another one of his friends got him Learn 10 Foreign Languages Till Death Do You Apart Easy-To-Use Home Kit. He said, I could not achieve it during my time. The least I can do is hope for my friend to die a multilinguist. Apparently, he received this prized possession at his retirement party 10 years ago.
Another one got him a reverse clock. He said, time is a-ticking, my friend, grimly. From nowhere, the Rolling Stones hit single Time Is On My Side began playing.
Someone got him a trombone. One of his kids got him a replica of a Stradivarius. Even I was impressed.
I wanted to buy him a Granny.I'd.Like.To.Fcuk Blow-up Doll (G.I.L.F Doll) though my wife, like always, disagreed. We ended up buying him the Bhagwat Gita and a magnifier.
Another one of his friends bought him Sex Demystified: Septuagenarian. I was really intrigued to see the contents of the book.
He also received several wall clocks, a crash helmet, stainless steel bedpans, fishing equipment, coffee mugs, a t-shirt that said "I'm am officially retarted" (I think, it means, retired), picture frames, etc.

Just as we were all ready to leave, her uncle called us (only family) to listen to a poem.

"How do I know where my youth all went?

Well, my buck up and go has jerked off and spent.

Old age is golden, so I've heard it said,

So where is my gold, when I get into bed.

The sleep knocks me out, I say to myself --

'Is there anyone else I should lay on my bed?'

When I was young, my trousers were red,

I could zip down a few right over my head,

When I grew older my trousers were blue,

But still I could bonk the whole night through.

Now I am old, my trousers are black,

I think of my bore and that small randy hole;

The reason I know where my youth is all went,

My buck up and go has jerked off and spent.

But I really don't mind, when I think with a grin

Of all the grand places my buck up has been.

I get up each morning, dust off my nits,

Sip a cup of coffee, and read the Obits."

Yours alzheimerly.

Sex Survey

2006-07-05T11:34:00.000+05:30

I am absolutely heartbroken. The German dream is over and HOW. I was so unhappy, I called in sick at work.

Yesterday night, my wife almost managed to get tickets for Kkrish, which means, we will be watching the movie very soon. I am absolutely dreading the idea.

Anyways, pornstar pongy was at our place last evening. After we exchanged the usual mundane pleasantries, PP wanted us (PP and I) to answer a sex survey to determine, this is true, if I was her type or not.

The information contained on this post are of a sexually explicit nature. If you are under the age of 18 or sexually inexperienced, or if it's illegal to view sexually explicit material in your house, please leave now and view other posts on the blog. Please read, understand and comply with the following conditions before you continue:

1. Whichever Occurs First: I am at least 18 years of age or have had atleast one sexual experience with my private tuition teacher, house helper or a hamster.

2. The sexually explicit material I am viewing is for my own personal titillation and I will not expose myself to minors.

3. The viewing and reading of sexually explicit material does not violate the standards of my community, town, religious duties, personal ethics or family values.

4. I am solely responsible for any false disclosures or legal ramifications of viewing and reading the material on this post. Furthermore this blog nor its owners will be held responsible for any legal ramifications arising from sexual perversion.

5. All the questions that appear on this blog are over the age of 18, have consented being viewed and/or answered, have signed the company policy agreement and provided proof of age.

6. If you've read and fully understand the above agreement, and you affirm and swear that viewing/receiving sexually explicit material does not violate the standards of political ineptitude in your community, that you won't make yourself available to minors in any form, that you are wholly liable for any sexual arousal that may arise for your receiving or viewing of these materials and that you are over the age of 18 you may continue:

Note: Before continuing to enter this post, you must confirm the information below: "I hereby affirm, under the penalties of perjury pursuant to I.P.C 193 that I am currently 18 years or bolder"

Would you rather masturbate or get a hand job from yourself?

Me: Masturbate, that sounds scientific.
PP: Neither. I get the real thing.
What's your favorite female body type?

Me: More cushion for pushin'.
PP: Not applicable.
Do you prefer a partner with more or less sexual experience than you?

Me: More. I don't want to think in bed too.
PP: Both.
The hottest role-playing fantasy?

Me: T-X.
PP: Strap-on penis.
Would you be turned on if you found out the partner you were dating had slept with another partner of the same sex?

Me: Persona non grata.
PP: So long as the other partner is present too.
Tell us the secret to giving a killer hand job.

Me: Depends on the length of the video clip.
PP: Refer to question 1.
What's the biggest mistake a woman can make when performing fellatio?

Me: After a long moment, I said, sneeze.
PP: What's a fellatio?
How can your partner get you to last longer in the sack?

Me: Strap me down, give me some munchies and turn on a cricket game.
PP: Vigour. Strength. Performance.
How do you feel if your partner has to stimulate himself/herself to have an orgasm?

Me: Third finger, Left hand.
PP: Who cares, as long as I come.
What's on your mind during sex?

Me: The question should be, Whats on your mind?
PP: Its all in the head.
What position gives you the most stimulation?

Me: A precarious postion.
PP: Coitus Alignment Technique (CAT). Me: What is it?
What can your partner do to make intercourse mind-blowing?

Me: Not Applicable.
PP: Grab my ass, bite my lips and tug my hair.
If your partner brought a vibrator to bed, you'd...

Me: Move the water bottle away. I do not want to be electrocuted.
PP: Call him a wuss.
Think about the best lover you've ever had. What made him/her so hot?

Me: Ex-Girlfriend Voodoo Doll. a) Everytime I thought of her, I could poke her with sterile needles from a Extra-Money Saver Pack of 250 Needles. b) She was easy to pack on business trips.
PP: He was mobile and fit into my Attaché case perfectly.

After finishing the survery, she and I exchanged our answers to see if we were compatible. It appeared, I was a passionate and delicate lover while she was an orgiastic and epicurean bunny. I am saving up the survey for my wife. I hope it will work as a great mood-setter.

Yours expectantly.

Dinner & Pink Lady

2006-07-04T14:21:00.000+05:30

Today, East Midnapur, has no fewer than 773,000 toilets! This statistic is appalling when we talk about the number of malnutrioned and illiterated children in the area. It became the first district to achieve 99 percent coverage, as compared with the national coverage of 36 percent.

Sorry, it wasn't to be meant here.

Yesterday night, my wife and I, had the most important conversation of our lives, by which, I mean, we discussed car upholstery. Instead of drawing blood and guns, we decided to talk about it instead. She wants to have a baby.

After three hours of intense conversation, I gently reminded her that babies do not happen by talking about them. I really shouldn't have. She not only proscribed my rights to touch her but also denied me my rightful place in bed.

For the uninformed, contradistinct to the popular belief, my wife is not your run-of-the-mill wives. She has a successful and thriving career in something. A few months ago, she decided to treat her entire team at work for drinks & dinner. The theme was families.

I am all for team-building activities but I couldn't see how my presence would improve her team's interpersonal relationships. I recall, as we left home, my wife said two things. a) Don't be rude and mean. b) Behave! At that very moment, I realised, her team members were not the brightest inventions of Sir Isaac Edison. Her team consisted of 5 men and 1 non-male. We were the first to arrive at Orient Express. By 21:00 hours the entire group had congregated with atleast one representative from each of their familes.

R was accomponied by his fiance. His fiance was rather attractive with a plunging neckline. I did not particularly notice her face during the entire five course meal. It was difficult to take my gaze of her orientals. Physical description of R: The only living proof that explains the Darwin's Theory Of Evolution. He was dressed in a body-hugging shirt and crotch-crunching trousers held together barely by a belt that appeared to be a part of his school uniform. I was wishing throughout the dinner for the belt to snap.
R2 was accompanied by Tommy. Tommy was also found drooling at R's fiance. I think my wife should have specifically mentioned human accompaniments only. Apparently R2 was unmarried and could not think of anything else. He was dressed in work clothes with a dog-tag around his neck. I told my wife, R2 looked like the central idea behind Unlocking The Mysteries Of Life.
A was accompanied by his ass. It took a moment to arrive after he did. A has kids older than Pongy and Mintu. He had moved into my wife's team recently. Apparently, his family was due to move in with him shortly. I think that's their excuse to live away from him. He wasn't dressed. I saw his face way too briefly to describe him.
S was accompanied by his wife. His wife is 4 foot nothing. Apart from a few strands of grey hair, there was nothing that could stop me from believing that she was his daughter. They were the perfect Beauty and the Beast, though interchangeably. After watching The Exorcist, S's wife has eliminated all thoughts on child birth, by which, I mean, S has been celibate for numerous years now.
Y was accompanied by his keychain. He appeared to me like a credit-card defaulter's collection agent. He was dressed in a shirt, which seemed to contain two symmetric designs of the cross-section of human anatomy. His trousers were too tight and too short exposing his white socks. He was absolutely disgusting.
M was accompanied by Hansel and Gretel. The bad genes seemed to have passed from the mother to the children. It was extremely difficult to hold conversation with the kids without poking them with my chopsticks everytime their mother wouldn't see me. If Louvre Museum of Modern Art would accept living forms, M and her children would fit perfectly.

After making some small talk, it was time to ask for drinks. As soon as I hollered for the drinks menu, all the male members with wives, girlfriends, etc at the table, inadvertently turned their heads for permission. I turned my head towards R's fiance. I am not a beer drinker unless I do not have choice. Three men were teetotalers while the rest of us had a drinking problem.

R drank beer. He was barely two pints down when he started singing. Much to my ado, my wife joined him. I was totally disgusted.
R's fiance drank bloody mary. Everytime she would raise her glass to sip, her neckline seemed to plunge further.
Y asked for hard drinks. After arguing for more than ten minutes, he agreed to drink Fanta. I was glad. His idea of handling drinks, I suppose, was by the neck of the bottle.
A didn't drink anything. Apparently, after 19:00 hours, he did not drink anything because he suffered from enuresis. (bed-wetting)
S drank beer. He sat closer to the washroom since the only thing he spoke for the rest of the evening was excuse me. His wife was thoroughly disgusted. I wanted to ring my sis and tell her that her husband was dining with us.
M drank Pina Colada. After her first Pina Colada, miraculously, she suddenly appeared to have grown a pink moustache.
M's kids brought their own hip flasks with Chocolate Complan. M inisted that she wanted her kids to have a healthy lifestyle. On the subject of hip flasks, did you all know, my BIL, carries two, one on each hip, this is true, for balance.
R2 drank something called Pink Lady. I am not sure what the drink contained but for the rest of the evening, R2 was found shagging the glass with his palms.

Everybody thanked my wife for the fantastic party and walked away. I caught Y stealing dozens of toothpicks from our table.

Yours pouchongly.

Sales, Masterji & Weekend

2006-07-03T09:51:00.000+05:30

déjà vu: My love life.

Aberrations over the weekend: a) Brazilians are through to the semi-finals. b) Indians lose the decisive fourth test. c) Unbeknownst, Sehwag's hair reappears. d) My wife said, Come with me to the Casbah, we'll make beautiful music together.

I was thoroughly disappointed to watch Brazilians lose. I think it was the surprise element of the entire World Cup. My BIL, who was watching the game with us, in a depressed frenzy, drank another three large shots of Scotch. He was so disappointed, he was unwilling to leave the pub. Anyways, I am glad Brazilians are out; German nemesis.

On Saturday, we went to my dad's place to gently remind him that I am still alive. After the last family reunion dinner, he hasn't been communicating with me. My wife immediately rushed to find my mum. Apparently, my mum was NOT in Hyderabad but on a holiday away from my father. Even I can sympathize with her. To my disgust, I found my BIL waiting for me to arrive or so I thought. My father had already tipped him about my evening plans to watch the games at a pub.

After a cup of chai for us and a shot of scotch for my BIL, I dropped my wife about 200 yards away from my inlaws place and waited till she disappeared behind the gate. BIL & I, then disappeared into the pub. It is absolutely wonderful to go out with my BIL. Firstly, he knows most of the pub owners, by which, I mean, he has been kicked out occasionally for lack of funds. Secondly, I do not have to constantly converse with him, by which, I mean, he is busy getting wasted.

By the time, England recorded their quarter final loss, my BIL was three quarters down. I rang my sister to find out if he had a drinking problem and she banged the phone down. I will assure you all, my family doesn't have a sense of humor. After the Brazilian defeat, I dropped my BIL at his place and headed home.

Woke up at 11:30 hours, had a quick shower and headed to my in-laws place. Ate lunch, picked up wife and returned home. On our way back, I sensed that we were going to break into another argument and before I could finish that line of thought, my wife started it. She is a major league fan of Sales. Sales of any kind including, but not limited to cenotaphs, coffins and clothes. She also wanted to see her tailor(s). I wanted to go home and sleep. Finally, we agreed to go to the sales and her tailor, since these things were matters of national security & importance.

We went home to pick up the clothes we received from USAID as a part of Tsunami Relief Fund. All of them had to be either stitched or alterted. I am not exaggerating.
We then headed to Matching Point & Petticoat Junction to find matching tops for bottoms, matching bottoms for tops, matching blouses for saris, matching saris for blouses, matching petticoats for buttons, matching hairpins for lingerie, matching nail polish for clothes she might buy for her next year birthday, etc.

The only interesting part about the place was, I was the only male member. I was feeling absolutely violated while my wife was doing her thing. You may all laugh, but I can tell you, having sex-starved sales aunties strip you naked with their eyes is not a very comfortable feeling. Some shoppers in petticoats & bras were strutting unintentionally in my presence.

While my wife was busy match-making, I contempated my sex life. It was a cliffhanger. For uniformity, I divided the month into 30 days to calculate the probability of it happening. This is how it looks:
7 days: That time of the month.
10 days: That time before the month. Private Messaging Service.
5 days: Time she spends at her place.
4 days: I am likely to travel.
3 days: Arguments.
1 day: Honey! I have a headache.

I do not know how many goods we purchased but the shop owner promised to do a free home delivery. I was already suffering from postpartum disorders.
The next pitstop was at her tailor. I have to admit, the way to his shop is a perilous ascent. His shop is located on the third floor of a building without a lift. The stairway does not house any artificial lighting whatsoever and can only accommodate one person at a time, by which, I mean, if you are climbing up the stairs and are unaware of a raging bull speeding down the stairs, one of you will be crushed to death.

The shop was a dingy joint; a place no woman would ever venture, but here I was with my wife waiting for Sir Wawah Darzi to make an apperance. The place was packed with women of different shapes and sizes waiting to be measured up.
The tailor was barely five feet nothing, frail and about to die. He greeted my wife like he knew her vital stats and proceeded to discuss stuff in a language that I couldn't understand. I think, I do not know some of the dimensions that he knows about my wife. I was understandably ashamed. For everyone unaware, a darzi is called masterji for some strange reason.
We then headed to the many sales on the offering. You all must realize, my wife will buy 20 sets of bed linen to last us for 7 years just because they are on sale or 139 rolls of toilet paper since we might have a water problem next year.

First, as you all would have guessed, it was indeed the ladies section. The offer said Buy Any Three Garments Over 2000/- Each And Get An Egg Boiler Free or Buy Any Two Garments Over 4500/- And Get A Set Of Six Table Mats Free. She chose both the deals since she wanted to make my life easier by gifting me an egg boiler and she absolutely loved the table mats.

We then headed to the men's section. They had a deal on undergarments. She called my father, her father and her brother to find out their sizes and models. My BIL was missing, as usual. After gathering all the necessary information, she decided to buy them all shirts instead. The deal said Buy Two Shirts Worth 2100/- Each And Get A Box Of Seven Hand Kerchiefs With The Days Of The Week Embroidered With Multi-color Cross-Stitch Needlework. I received two sets of hand kerchiefs while some of the other male members in my family received shirts.

We made a quick dash to the kids section soon after. After buying clothes for Chintu, Mintu & Pongy, my wife did the most ridiculous thing. The shop had a deal on baby-care products. For our sexually unknown future child, my wife bought several packets of Huggies, wet tissues for cleaning poo-poo, a pram, several '0' month clothes, etc. It wasn't ridiculous until she bought two sets of everything as a twin contingency.

We then headed to the home needs section. Here she bought several items of bed linen, which if spread side-to-side will cover the entire neighborhood we live in. Several plastic boxes for storage. They had a deal, that said, Buy Several Easy-To-Store, Smell-Proof Storage Cases And Be Eligible For Our Lucky Draw For Home Delivery. We bought enough bath towels to clean each part of our anatomy twice. She then headed to the cutlery section where we purchased enough cutlery for the Boston Tea Party.

Just when I thought we were done, we jet-setted back to the ladies section. After wandering aimlessly for another half hour, she decided to finally settle the bill. This was the part I was dreading. After paying an undisclosed amount, we headed back home.

Leo Packers and Movers have promised to deliver the goods of purchase sometime on Monday.

Yours brokenly.

Family Noose

2006-07-01T10:23:00.000+05:30

Perfect setting: Missus decided to watch some mind-numbing reruns of Sex And The City while I was all set to meet some of my boyfriends to watch the all important fourth test between WI and India. I am kidding. It was all going very well until my FIL called. He wanted us, to watch the match on his new big screen. After a perfect argument, we decided to go watch the game at his place, on the condition, I watch Saturday's 2nd day of the fourth test between WI and India with my buds.

No offense, but my FIL is not your normal fanatic sports lover. I overheard, right before the 2006 FIFA World Cup, Germany, he was explaining the offside rule to one of his many grandchildren. He said, there are two sides, offside and onside and it is relative to the batsman. I only mention this because I was in denial to watch a football game with a man who is as confused about the game as his lineage.

My in-laws aren't exactly thrilled to see me. The usually treat me with the same nonchalance as they would treat a door-to-door salesman selling Webster's dictionary or socks. We ended up watching the match with me cheering for Germany and my FIL undecided till the end of play.

Anyways, I was willing to forego the missus for a night of peaceful football watching. I got home just in time to catch the Italiano washout. The game was completely off-sided.

A few days ago, I had to attend another family reunion dinners. I am yet to figure out the real reason. It was not about my blog, thankfully. I took this golden opportunity to find out what's shaking currently with everyone.

My Brother: It was unusual to see him at family gatherings. He came up to me and said Bro, I have an originale and ingenious business plan. For everyone, who is unaware, my brother is forever trying to exploit my entrepreneurial tendencies, by which, I mean, the ability to lose money without difficulty. This is a genetic trait passed onto me by my dad. Many years ago, my dad also invested a lot of money in horse racing expecting very few dividends. Though I do not invest in gambling, I am hugely susceptible to originale business plans.

Anyways, my brother sought out to establish a boutique cyber cafe with an ecological twist to it. The cafe would offer your usual private cabins with identity concealer, a Korean mechanical-hand named Handie, a bottle of Perrier and ofcourse the fundamental need at all cyber cafes; a roll of Kleenex (free). Apart from this, the cafe would also offer beauty treatment services for both men and women. This is true, after watching many cartoons as a kid, my brother believed the computers will function on, I am not kidding, Spinach. After the entire discussion, I asked him, what was the USP of this business venture? After a thoughtful minute or two, he said, Cable & Wireless.
My Father: In my family, the word personal is nonexistent. Everything is discussed openly. Hypothetical Citation: My father over the dinner table with some business contacts of mine will say, Arjun, Did you know, your good friend sitting right across the table used to have an inverted nipple condition for many years before it had to be surgically corrected? My father is absolutely capable of saying such things at public gatherings. He continues to have erectile dysfunction, which was the topic of discussion at the dinner. I did not know about this until an open forum discussion recently.

To ease the discomfiture, he caused everyone, I broke the silence with, Dad, why don't you think about the Washington Monument or Statue of Liberty or Rock of Gibraltar or our very own Qutub Minar. As a cheap thrill, for Father's Day, I bought him a 1/96 scale replica of The Leaning Tower of Pisa.
My Mother: My mother is still missing for the last two months. We are safely assuming that she is probably in Hyderabad teaching the art of roti making to the chefs.
My Sister: She continues to be the first child of our family. I did not find anything of consequence to mention in here though she continues to give me unequivocal and false advise on being a father. She wants me to become one.
My BIL: He continues to be the only active member of Alcoholics Anonymous though there is little anonimity about this fact in our family. He stayed close to my dad's bar eyeing a bottle of Black Label lecherously. My sister believes that is the only time he does that. I like him because, our conversations are monosyllabic, for example, Hey BIL, want another drink? Yes. Hey BIL, want another drink? Yeah. Hey BIL, want another drink? Yah. Hey BIL, want some dinner? No.

On a BIL bonding session, I ended up at one of the AA meetings. There were lots of scary people sitting around in a circle, holding hands and singing some Irish pub songs. They were kind enough to offer me a drink as soon as we reached the pub.
My Nephew: I think my nephew who is 12 years old had his first erection a few days ago. Though I do not have any evidence to support this allegation, I think he did. I saw him gel his hair.
My FIL: He continues to baffle us for no apparent reason. I still continue to respect him.
My Wife's Sister: She was busily finding data for her new trivia; Footballs: What Men Don't Have.
Mintu: He asked me, what's a fellatio was? Though taken aback, I told him, it was a latin lollipop. After drawing many similes to explain the meaning and many failed attempts later, I told him a joke.

One sperm said, Lord I'm tired! How long until we reach the fallopian tubes? Another replied, Still a long way to go, we've just passed the oesophageal cavity. I am hoping, he understands it. He is only 13.
Pongy: She brought a date to the gathering. I personally thought the kid would be a good influence on her. Sometime during the course of our meal, she declared, she had her first ever Brazilian. I am not sure if everyone at the party understood it.
Chintu: He is officially a terrorist. He brought a musket to the dinner. His parents want to buy him a S&W Sigma 380 ACP as soon as he turns 13. I am very sure they are allowing him to chase his dream.
Chintu's Mum: I was glad to see her. She was saying, it wasn't her idea to don the Lil' Mermaid costume. Apparently, Chintu's dad had never watched Lil' Mermaid when he suggested the costume. I also pointed out the irrelevance of Lil' Mermaid as a Super Hero.
Chintu's Dad: Abominable as ever.
I: I continue to be an actively lead a life of celibacy. I have recently registered with The Celibate After First Marriage Club, Unlikely Of Second Marriage Club and Above The Hill And Therefore Cannot Find A Girlfriend Club. I am also looking for a subscription with sexaholics anonymous for geometrical gratification.

Yours family's only normal being.

Get Set Reddy

2006-06-30T10:07:00.000+05:30

Recently, less than two months ago, I was visiting Hyderabad to attend a cousin's engagement. He was getting engaged to a reddy girl. Now, I do not know what that means but I am told, it is a Hindu caste. After finishing engineering at IIT Delhi, my cousin went to US of A, to pursue The All India Famous American Dream.

During his stay in New Jersey, he met his fateful femme fatale. After spending 23 years in India and merely two years in USA, my cousin appeared to have change for the worse.

He insisted we only eat at fine dining restaurants and order dessert after dinner.
He always carried a water dispenser (water from NJ) where ever we went. Apparently, he was susceptible to water hazards. This made it extremly difficult for us to lug and take it into pubs.
He carried a utility bag around his waist, the size of a suitcase.
He had a Delhi-Yank drawl obviously. This was terrible.
He showed pictures of his fiance and him at Niagara Falls with his fiance dressed in a salwar kameez and trainers. I had a laughing fit though he considered it very rude.

Sometime in the month of April, my parents, missus and I and a whole bunch of people I do not know and want to know, headed to the IT Das Kapital. I wasn't fully aware, in the month of April, Hyderabad is a phlogiston. I had packed a few woolens and many perspiring clothes for the engagement party. I had myself to blame for this huge blunder even when my wife clearly saw it on National Television that the temperature in Hyderabad was perilously close to 40C.

The entire trip had a bad beginning with my cousin's grandfather forgetting his box of, this is true, suppositories and realising this half hour before take-off. Shit. The flight was delayed for two hours due to technical difficulties and when we finally landed in Hyderabad, my cousin's family had already arrived and left.

Apart from a few life-threatening mishaps that failed to execute, we were all in Hyderabad in one piece. I insisted that we (parents, wife and I) stay in a hotel, while my cousin and his fiance insisted we stay with them in their bungalow in Jubilee Hills. Unless I know the people I am visiting very well, I prefer staying in hotels after one bad experience.

This was a few years ago when my wife insisted that I stay with her uncle on a trip to Mumbai. So did her uncle insist. He was very warm and receptive, like all normal families are, until the next morning. Apparently, her uncle practised AOL (Art Of Living) passionately (I wasn't warned about this earlier) and wanted to institutionalize me into this art form. Not only did he wake me up at an ungodly hour of 3:30 hours, but also insisted I take a bath with cold water and fart loudly. We performed Sudarshan Kriya and many other tongue-twisting yogasanas till 5:00 hours. At 5:00 hours, he promptly left me in the living room and went back to bed. I couldn't get any sleep after this rigorous exercise, I was ver sore and unable to go through my day long meetings. At 7:00 hours, he offered me Dahlia seeds with milk for breakfast. After that one instance, I have never met this uncle again.

The bad experience continued with my cousin's fiance's grandmother who isn't educated was screaming, I kid you not, Randi! Randi! on spotting us. We were all taken aback, until my cousin chuckled and said, everyone in Sunita's family is that. The hosts were kind enough to provide us, a chauffeur driven car. After buying stuff worth a few Nizam Jewels, we got back to the bungalow for dinner. I have to tell you, we were all very pleased not to find the grandmother in the front yard.

The entire next day we spent like crazed tourists seeing the sights & sounds of Hyderabad. The only choice of food available at restaurants is birayani & biryani. I wasn't particularly complaining but my mother was summoning the chefs at every eatery and teaching them the art of roti making. At that point, I feigned, I didn't particularly know her. That evening was the big function.

My wife was dressed up in a kimono and I was wearing a muscle tee and shorts for the engagement. I am kidding. I was wearing an unusually heavily embroidered Sherwani while my wife made many failing attempts to wrap a sari around herself. I was so well-dressed, I had a few strangers come by and congratulate me on the impending marriage. This process continued until I moved my wedding ring from my ring finger to my middle finger.

The party was in their compound with the entire house lit up with fancy serial lights. It was beautiful until the real tamasha began.

The guest list contained more people than the population of all the Scandinavian countries put together. Apparently, my cousin's FIL is a highly influencial Reddy. I think for their wedding, they will book the entire Pragati Maidan.
There were absolutely no pretty women in the gathering. Most were below 16 and the rest were above 60 with innumerable kids thrown in for nuisance value. I was informed later that reddy girls of marriageable age are not invited to functions. It is a hoodoo belief, I think.
The place looked like a remake of Mackenna's Gold though the actors were fat, ugly and dark. I wondered where Mr. Omar Sharif was.
I have never ever in my entire life seen so many dhotis and ghunghats slip. This appeared to happen naturally causing very little alarm among the people in the vicinity. The bad part was neither of them were stirring anything in my underbody.
Most of the men were dressed like parole convicts while their respective partners were extravagantly dressed. If anybody wants to rob gold for a living, this was the place for it. So much gold, even a blind man could lay his hands on some.
Some high profile ministers were also invited for the engagement, which ensured that there were lots of fat men in Safari suits and dysfunctional guns surronding us. Occasionally, a sniffer would come by and smell my unmentionables.
I am not bigoted but my wife believed a lot of people in the party were wearing tacky Chiffon and Georgette saris. She claimed they couldn't carry them off. I do not know what the expression means.
She also claimed, most of them were putting-on-an-Hyderabad-Yank accent until she had to tell them all that we were not from The States. They were all a huge source of entertainment for me.
The food was an all south-indian affair. I did not recognize anything but an array of vegetable salads. The food was extremely spicy and floating in oil yet very tasty. I ate most of everything without prejudice. I spotted my mum having a crash course on roomali rotis while my dad was chatting up some heavily-clad aunties. With my dad, language is the least of his worries.
My cousin seemed to have taken a liking for the reddy clan instantly. Not that he had much of a choice but my belief strengthened when I saw him gifting dime-a-dozen use-and-throw razors to some of his fiance's uncles.
The bride-to-be was dressed in a traditional south-indian sari. The sari was so scintillating, I was gently reminded of J.J Thomson's Alpha-Particle Scattering Experiment.
During the entire party, the responsibility to take care of my cousin's grandfather was shouldered on me. He kept chewing me up on buying him suppositories until I fed him some mango pickle. I think he will always remain grateful to me.

The hosts were extremely garrulous yet courteous. The next morning we left Hyderabad with oodles of weight and a burning ass. My cousin wants to move to Hyderabad after marriage and involve himself in land-grabbing activities.

The only thing that is still bothering me is, after the party a lot of members of the reddy clan walked over to us ( wife and I) and as a parting nicety with a smile on their face said, rape randi...

Yours sambasiva reddy.

Tom, Dick and Marry

2006-06-28T17:20:00.000+05:30

I have a nondescript brother. If I am the black sheep of the family, to call him anything will be racial. What he doesn't make up in weight, compared to me, he amply makes it up with stupidity.

He is easily considered the missing link in our otherwise perfect family. Born between my sis and me, he is in the middle of nowhere. That also explains the age gap. I do not know what he is upto these days. My father and I strongly believe, he is a closet gay.

Every now and then, we keep hearing about him on the radio or seeing him on the television. Sometimes, he is a celebrity hairdresser or celebrity disc jockey or celebrity bartender. I spot him at social dos at times, clad in a peach pin-stripe suit and blonde hi-lites. He is always rubbing shoulders with the beau monde, by which, I mean, serving us drinks.

Co-incidentally, his favorite singers are Freddie Mercury, Boy George, Aretha Franklin, George Michael, Marilyn (if memory serves me right, he/she/it sang the hit single Calling Your Name) and ofcourse, Eminem.

While we were burning midnight oil heating upto Cricket at odd hours, our pal continued to chew every fashion magazine. It is no wonder, my sis loves him to pieces. Even as a kid, when we were playing Cricket, Football and Honey! I Stained Your Couch, he was busy crossing his legs and learning the art of smocking.

At one point, he even had a girlfriend. We are still trying to find out, why?

Anyways, while I had enough writing about my bro, I decided to browse through Blogs Of Note for creative flagellation. I insist, everyone who reads my blog also read Rasheed. After a few lines, I was scrimmaging with my education. I, then realised, why our brothers from the Middle-East insist on As-Salaam-Alaikum to Yo, wassup doug?

A few months ago my brother decided to, hold your breath, get married. Instead of telling us, his family about this huge decision, he decided to publicize this matter over the Internet. He registered with one the innumerable matrimonial websites and marked all responses to reach my official mailing address. Cheeky Bastard!

I know bo-diddley about online matrimonial websites. Not until recently, atleast. I received a mailer from Monster Jobs.com telling me to Get Lucky Twice! Upon further investigation, I found out, the job site is now a business partner of Monstrous Singles.com helping their registered members find a satisfying job and partner of their choice, all at the same time. This is absolutely true, they said, Try It For A Month Or Your Money Back.

I arrived at work one morning to find 72 new emails. On close inspection, I figured out that my bro was ready for Carpe Homosapien. I instantly rang my mum to share the good news until this happened.

Annotated below are real marriage proposals my bro received from eligible singles. I may have slightly modified the content for better readability. I have not made them up, God's truth.

Name: Appu, Male, 34 years, Never been married.
Physical Attributes: 5' 11", 0 kg, Sharp features, Fair complexion, Medium built, Is not blind, Not physically or mentally challenged.
Education & Ethnicity: Doctor degree, MD, Monthly income over 1 lakh, Christian keralite, Mother tongue English, Moderate cultural values, Western culture.
Personal Details: Do not smoke, No children, Not vegetarian, No hard drinks, Own an economy car. Love movie, piano and tennis. Kerala malayalam parentage. Catholic faith. I is looking fur cute kuttis.

Looking for: 5'4" to 5'4", 25 to 30 years, Never married, USA, Christian, Any mother tongue, Doctor, Engineer, Government / Defence, Finance / Banking, Corporate, Over 1 lakh p/m, Beautiful features, Fair complexion, Big built. Should not be mentally or physically challenged. More details upon contact.
Name: Rj, Male, 39 years, Divorced.
Physical Attributes: 5' 10", 90 kg, Sharp features, Dark complexion, Athletic built, Have a deranged cat.
Education & Ethnicity: Masters degree in nothing specific, Consultant, Consulting business owner, Over 1, 00, 000 p/m, Christian, English mother tongue, Modern cultural values, East or west India is the Best culture.
Personal Details: Born-again Christian, Humorous, Afectionate, Loyal, Adventuresum. Previous marriage ended - not by my choice details later.... Have 3 beautifull childrens .. not looking for a surogate (step) mother ..they have a lovelying mother who takes good care of them. I am a profesional with the well settled business. I am born in India, grewed up in Africa and have living in the US for 20 years. Still visit Kerala to see my parants. Love casual tennis, goolf, boating, cooking and travels.

Looking for: Any height, 32 - 37 years, Any marriage, Any country, Christian, Malayalam with any occupation, With any monthly income, Sharp features, Any complexion, Any built, Any physical disability.
Name: Sumati, Female, 29 years, Never been married.
Physical Attributes: 5' 2", 50 kgs, Fair complexion, Slim body, Sharp features, My grandmother is senile.
Education & Ethnicity: Medicine - General / Dental / Surgeon / Others, Doctor with Government / PSU, Annual income is 15000, Oriyan, Middle class, Nuclear family.
Personal Details: i AM MINI...I HAVE A FREE CHARACTER. LOOKING FOR A LOVING, CARING PERSON. I LOVE EVERYONE IN MY FAMILY. I HAVE LIBERAL VALUES.

Looking for: Partner preference not available.
Name: Phule Dixit, Male, 47 years, Never been married.
Physical Attributes: 5' 81/2", 94 kgs, Wheatish complexion, Well built, No physical or mental disability.
Education & Ethnicity: Bcom, Clerk in a nationalized bank, 11500 p/m, Maharashtrian, Lower-middle class, Marathi mother tongue.
Personal Details: I am beautiful persin, Very homely, Have traditional value smart, Intelligent and Friendly in nature. I is having a very good familyy value from a highly educated family. I loves Acting, Art / handicraft, Doncing, Film-making, Gardening/ landscaping, Paintting, Potography, Playing mouth organ.

Looking for: Any height, 33-38 years, Any marriage, Any religion, Any education, Any country. The candidate must be Loyal, Loviing and Carring. Should be no-smoker and no-drinking.
Name: Kssubin, Male, 27 years, Never been married.
Physical Attributes: 5' 7", 110 kgs, Wheatish brown complexion, Average built, No recorded special cases of dementia.
Education & Ethnicity: Bcom, Accountant with PSU, 2, 00, 001 - 3, 00, 000 annual income, Hindu, Malayalam mother tongue, Chaste family values.
Personal Details: I eat non-veg occassionally. I also drinks and smoking too. I like Photography, Singing, Dancings, Astrology / Palmistry / Numerology, Classic Indian - typically Indian formal wears and Latest film songs, Bhajans / Devotional. I am talktive man, I am trying to engage all times. I am trying to all momet is memmorable. I like photography, cinema and chating friend. I am watching cartoons channels. My family is moderate. I have one dad, one mom and one sister. Father is doing business, mom is house wife. Sister not available.

Looking for: 5'0" - 5'4", 40 - 42 kgs, Never been married, No children, Wheatish, Wheatish cream, Wheatish medium or Wheatish brown complexions Slim body, Ezhava religion, Liberal family values. Can eat anything but cannot drink or smokes.
Name: Daljit Inderjeet, Male, 44 years, Divorced.
Physical Attributes: 5' 10", 60 kgs, Vary fair complexion, Big built, Mentally Challenged: HAHA.
Education & Ethnicity: BA (PASS), Bisness, 300000 annual income, Cyber owner, Bodhay Sikh, Kark Raasi, Seere Gothram, Punjaban family values.
Personal Details: DECENT GUY GOOD LOOKING. I IS A SIKH BOY I WANT IK PUNJABAN MUNDIYA. I LIVE PUNJAB.MY BISNESS CYBER COFFE. Iam looking a hunsomd man who can care for me in my old age .. Iam still young looking.

Looking for: Two brothers, one sister.
Name: Huzefa, Male, 34 years, Never been married.
Physical Attributes: 5'6", 95 kgs, Fair complexion, Slim built, No special cases.
Education & Ethnicity: Diploma in Computer Hardware, Civil Engineer, 200001 - 300000 annual salary, Muslim, Dawoodi Bohra, Gujarati mother tongues Loose family values.
Personal Details: I AM A SMART, CARING, CONFIDANT, LOVVING, GUY WITH LOTS OF DESIRES IN LIFE. ACCORDING TO ME LIFE IS A CHALENGE THAT U HAVE 2 ACES AND SUCEED IN IT. I M A MODERATE PERSONEL. ACCORDINGS TO MY FRIENDS I M A COOLY PERSON. MY GREATEST AMBITION IN LIFE IZ 2 BECOME A SUCCESFULL MAN. IN MARRIGE RELATION SHOULD BE GOOD, UNDERSTANDIBLE, HONEST, CARING. I AM LOOKINGS FOR SMART, LOVING, CARING, EDUCATION, CONFIDANT, UNDERSTANDABLE. MY PARENTS ARE OPEN MINDED RELIGIOUS PERSONS. THERE ARE FOUR MEMBERS IN MY FAMILY. FATHER, MOTHER, BROTHER, AND BROTHER IN LAW. PS: A picture's worth a thousand words! Would apreciate if you 2 having a picture. I wouldn't want to communicate with a Elusion!Will tel you when i meeting you... a personal intereaction is more important for these in depth analysis. My meternal pedigree is well settled all over the world for the last 50 years. Hence i dont need that "lucrative push to settle overseas".

Looking for: Any body is okey.

I cannot possibly post all the proposals he received. I have taken printouts of all the proposals and intend to display it at our next family reunion.

Your carings brother.

Didi Aur Woh

2006-06-28T11:03:00.000+05:30

I was flabbergasted, after last night's party. After reading my post on my very own dad, my in-laws (read: FIL, MIL, wife's brother, wife's brother's wife, Chintu, wife's sister, wife's sister's husband, Mintu & Pongy dressed up as a nurse) popped a bottle of Moët & Chandon to celebrate. Just how deviant can people be?

The mad doghouse has way too many rules. My father is driving me crazy. Rules include:

No smoking or drinking. Apparently, its bad for his new found fancy, potted plants.
Eat you dinner before 20:00 hours. If I don't get back from work by then, I do not get any food.
No watching television beyond 00:00 hours. It is true, I watched the entire Spain vs France match in complete darkness and the television sound muted. I felt like an invalid.
Take a shower at 6:00 hours. Apparently, your toxins are at their active best.

I have asked a few friends to accommodate me for a week.

The topic for today is my sister and her husband. Little about my sister and a lot about her husband.

While my sister was considering semi-retirement plans, botox and a dog for companionship, I was keeping a weekly tally of my warts & pimples. Yes, while I belong to the age of sex, drugs and rock n' roll, my sister is a direct descendent of the Ape Man.

While I was listening to The Beatles, she was grooving to Chuck Berry. I am not sure how many years seperate us. After many years of celibacy by religion, my father in a sudden spurge of pelvic thrusts produced me. That explains the age gap between us. My mum tells me, after what happened, he said, it was absolutely unintentional.

My sister did all the right things. Studied the course my father wanted her to pursue, played with barbie dolls, dressed up like a girl, did not have a boyfriend till she married one, respected all elders, helped my mum with daily chores, nerdy, etc. She was a high-school heart throb of many, by which, I mean, she caused many coronaires for all the wrong reasons.

She then went onto study at one of those B-Schools when she met her current husband. My sister lived by those love cliches. Odi Et Amo. Love is blind and so am I. My sister is a pretty woman who could easily win the Miss Beauty Pageant Contest For Naturally Pregnant Women.

None of us ever understood why she wanted to marry him, yet we had to accept it. I recall, just before she was heading to consummate her marriage, I told her, you couldn't possibly be serious about this. She was majorly offended by my remark and wouldn't speak to me for many years, not that I complained.

In an emotional letter she wrote to me, the next morning, she said, Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring. I was terribly moved.

Over the decades, I have managed to maintain an amicable relationship with my BIL. We speak four times an year, on the telephone, for his birthday, for my birthday, for their anniversary, for my anniversary. I believe, its a huge task.

My BIL does not like any sport. People, the world over, are still trying to find a sport that he might enjoy. The easiest way to win Who Is Macho? is by simply asking him sport-related questions. At a family picnic, after several attempts to play Cricket, we decided he was best suited to be the third umpire.
My BIL does not watch movies. The last movie he watched, chronologically speaking, could be, this is true, Stagecoach.
My BIL does not listen to music. I have found at his place, HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I, Michael Jackson as the only living proof that he has listened to some music. Apparently, the CD was a gift to him from his gay cousin.
My BIL is devoutly religious. You can spot him, slow down his car, take his hands off the wheel and eyes off the street, when he spots a shrine along the road. This makes me absolutely delirious. After that one instance, I have never braved to sit in his car.
Talking about driving, my BIL is crazy. I think everyone who is our relative by virtue of marriage is crazy. Apparently, his driving skills or lack thereof stem from deep rooted psychological problems. It is true, his parents disallowed him from playing Need For Speed.
My BIL is a social misnomer. The only time he shakes a leg at a party is, is to refill his glass. He usually stays close to the bar counter and very far away from the dance floor. It has been found that he possesses several left feet.
My BIL loves cars, guns, airplanes, etc. The typical male syndrome. I recall, he was thrown out of a car exhibition once. He was found bonking the car horn. I do not think they will ever allow him into a Vintage Car Show.
My BIL wanted to join the NDA, I am told. I asked my sis, why didn't he make it? After much deliberation, she said, he failed the fitness test. No wonder.
My BIL loves watching National Geographic. I think its totally perverted. I have asked him several times to turn off the channel when Pongy is around. It gives her ideas.
My BIL is absolutely clueless about cooking. He has never cooked and we are all very grateful for that. On their home computer, I found several .PDF files including How To Build A Bomb From Over The Counter Ingredients, How To Start A Forest Fire, How To Boost A Car & Easy To Use Guide: Pressure Cookers.

I hope this is good enough for me to go back home. I cannot bear another day at my dad's place. Even though, my BIL, over the years, has loved my sister immensely, I still tend to admire him from a distance.

Yours wohfully.

Sleeping With The Enemy

2006-06-27T11:23:00.000+05:30

Pandemonium struck last night. My wife finally figured out what was keeping me busy through the nights. When I got back from work last evening, my house was full of guests; my dad & mum, my FIL & MIL, my wife's BIL & Sis with Mintu and Pongy, my BIL & Sis with AK and my wife's brother. I was dumbstruck to see my entire immediate family at home, sitting grimly, like something bad had occurred.

Everyone including M & P had these piercing eyes, which suggested, our goldfish must have finally died. They were due this summer. Before, I could ask what happened, my wife brought out a huge bunch of printed material and dumped it into my arms. On close inspection, I realised, the contents belonged to me. It was my blog. My initial reaction was WOW!, Have I written so much material?

My wife, after finding the blog, had invited everyone involved, except my wife's brother's wife who was still unable to move. Everyone around me were holding a violent object for aesthetic value. I wanted to run across the living room to my mother, grab the cleaver from her arms and commit Seppuku.

The silence of the gathering was broken by my father. He was holding a Woomera while my FIL was holding a Atlatl. My father's first question was, Are you frustrated? Problems with teenie-wienie? Psychological problems? etc. After reeling out all the problems he had, he finally ended his harangue with, I am ashamed of you. At this point, it appeared, everyone was ashamed of me, including pornstar Pongy.

After a never-ending discussion and explanations, everyone decided that I was to live in my dad's dog-house for a week. Quarantine.

At no point during the entire conversation did my wife show any signs of sympathy. I picked some work clothes, night suits & my computer and drove to my folk's place. I couldn't obviously eat dinner.

While I sat down in solitude, I imagined, the only way of redeeming myself was to write about my own family. The first person I could think of was my dad.

My dad is a stickler for time. I recall, some years ago, he was hopping mad at us for being late to a funeral. He said, What if we were late for it? He is the sort of person who will leave four hours before a flight, risk-managing contingencies such as tornadoes, floods and three flat-tyres.
He is absolutely impatient. Doctors have warned him against watching Test Cricket.
He is a road kill. Two things he always does when he is driving; one hand always on the horn and one leg always on the accelerator. He never looks at the road ahead because he is very busy, screaming at senseless drivers.
He is absolutely health-conscious. He believes fast-food is the Hand Of Satan. We walked out of McDonald's once because they didn't serve steamed Idlis.
He hates pets. I suspect he let the cat out of the bag onto the goldfish.
Apparently, when you go to The Holy City Of Varanasi, you are expected to sacrifice something dear to you. After repeated attempts to lose my mum unsuccesfully, he gave up reading. The last time, my dad has read anything of significance was 30 years ago.
He is petrified of injuries. A few years ago when my mum cut her finger with a kitchen knife, he called an anaesthesiologist and a microvascular surgeon.
He has a personal collection of porn movies, stacked separately with titles & reference codes. It was from this collection, I gained the much needed entry into adult cinema.
He is a totalitarian, by which, I mean, he is very poor with math.
Recurring Dream: Avtomat Kalashnikova with infinite bullets, shooting aimlessly at the north-western frontier.
My dad has a lethal sternutation. My great-grandfather and my dad's grandfather, after many years of smoking cigarettes and philandering died of heart attack. The cause till date is mysterious. The legend says, at the time of his death, my father was with him.
Many years ago, my dad once told us about his fascination for stilettoes. Apparently, he loved wearing them in private. He loved the sound they made while he sashayed endlessly in his Glockenhose. (bell-bottomed pants)
My dad has been bald for 24 years now, yet he insists on going to a hairdresser every month religiously.He says, he enjoys leading a normal life like all the other men.
My dad was apparently a superstar cricketer during his days. He had once invited my mother to watch him bat. Even before he could face a single ball, he was runout. That was the last time my mum ever watched him play any sport.

I intend to send this post to my in-laws. I hope they can all have a chuckle and allow me to live with my wife.

Yours problematically.

Trivia And Naazuk Alkananda

2006-06-26T11:07:00.000+05:30

Sorry, my faithful readers. I was so busy all of yesterday, I didn't have a moment to visit the washroom.

For all my uninformed readers, every Monday, I write about the weekend gone by. I decided to change the trend this week.

I have received some hate mail over the weekend. I would like to inform you all, my wife is not an unpad gawar like most of you think. Instead, she has a double honors degree in anthropology. I love my in-laws like I love Kashmir. All the characters in my blog are real although some aspects of my blog may remind you of The Royal Tenenbaums recently aired on Zee Cinema. Chintu, Mintu and Pongy and all the other characters are real and the events and actions potrayed reflect real life incidents. I am not that innovative & creative.

Today's topic is about my sister-in-law. My SIL's fictional name is Naazuk Alkananda. I never understood the Alkananda connection until my wife told me that her mother conceived during their stay at Alkananda Guest House in Kalipong. Now you all know why I just love my in-laws?

My SIL has two beautiful children; Mintu & Pongy. Mintu over the years has emulated his dad, while Pongy is growing up to be a pornstar. My SIL loves cricketers, footballers, golfers, film stars & our plumber. She is the sort of person who will go a movie premiere and wait endlessly, for say, Johnny Walker to walk into the theatre or at a Kenyan Cricket Team pratice for an autograph from Nehemiah Odhiambo.

It is true, my SIL forgot to feed her kids for six hours because her neighbor told her, some fanatics were burning an effigy of Sourav Ganguly around the street corner. At that time, she didn't know the meaning of the word.

Her fascination is not with the game but the game makers. I once spotted her drooling at a groundsman. I had imagined, her knowledge on cricket, football, etc was innocuous until a few days ago.

Real Cricket Trivia:

Did you know, Sourav Ganguly wears two sets of underwears to all important matches? This is done for extra protection. He was recently spotted doing so in a game for Glamorgan. He was once caught telling Shoaib Akhtar, You have to reduce your pace by a few notches. It is bad for my ribs.
Did you know, Inzama-ul-Haq disappears the night before any international match? It has been found, he was attending, this is absolutely true, a crash course in English.
Did you know, Navjot Singh Sidhu has replaced the holy scripture Sri Guru Granth Sahib with a copy of Roget's Thesaurus and Wren & Martin.
Did you know, Wasim Akram's infamous Vaseline incident is purpoted wrongly? On a private Pakistan Television Channel, he confessed, he was not intentionally doctoring the ball but merely rubbing off the excess Vaseline from his pre-match innuendo.
Did you know, Shane Warne did not use Moduretic on his mother's suggestions. It was indeed, yes, you guessed it right, Vivid Virility, a performance booster. During his one year ban, Shane Warne worked with St Kilda Saints Australian Nymphomaniacs Club as head coach. After, much deliberation, Australian's National Anthem Waltzing Matilda was replaced by Horny Warnie.
Did you know, after the infamous victory of Sri Lanka at Eden Gardens in 1996, Vinod Kambli confessed, I Gave Up Wanking, in a tear-filled, emotional post-match interview. As a farewell song to him, the Indian Team, after many years, sang Absolute Cunt Of The Day.
Contrary, to the popuplar belief, did you know, Chetan Sharma purposefully bowled that infamous low full-toss on Javed Miandad's legs-side in the finals of Austral-Asia Cup, 85-86. It is a well-guarded National secret, that Abdul Jalil "Chacha" was holding his hamster for ransom.
Did you know, Krishnamachari Srikkanth, is the only Tamil cricketer who can speak in Hindi. For many years, he consistently provided the bowling team their first break through.
Did you know, Ajit Agarkar has a good-looking wife? His cricket statistics are not worth the mention.
Did you know, the movie Lagaan is loosely based on The Invincibles, '48. How loosely, we do not know.
Did you know, Parthiv Patel's idol is Joe DiMaggio. He later confessed, he heard the name on Billy Joel's 1989 hit single We Didn't Start The Fire from Storm Front. There is a movie based on Patel's life, titled Parthiv Patel: The Curse Of The Bambino.
Did you know, Anshuman Gaekwad, on National Television was heard saying, After a spate of low and inconsequential scores, Virender Sehwag's game is now flawed. It is the bat design. He must start experimenting with bats-with-no-edges for the World Cup.
Did you know, Mohinder Amarnath cannot speak English? During his stint with Durham, he was no-balled 4 times. In an interview many years later, he recalled, the officiating umpire didn't understand Hindi. Apparently, he was no-balled because the umpire did not comprehend dakShiNa pakSha-haath-Upara se.
Did you know, the ICC is working on a nonracial sledging guide?
Did you know, the ICC is soon planning to introduce colored uniform for Test cricket. This reform will be initially implemented in Kenya, Bangladesh & Zimbabwe. This is to reduce the prohibitive laundry costs. Gerald Majola was also heard saying use of Whites as a Test uniform was racial.
Did you know, in Australia, streakers and flashers are punished with criminal offense. This rule was implemented in 1992, the year Shane Warne debuted. It wouldn't have been so drastic until a Pura Cup game where Warne was caught slipping between fine legs.
Did you know, the ICC is working on a project for the blind & deaf. I am not sure if it is for a game of Cricket.
Did you know, on Christmas Day, '97 at Indore's Nehru Stadium, the second one-day international between India and Srilanka was abandoned? What I didn't know is, is Richie Benaud said the pitch was dry & cracked and looked increasingly like Arun Lal's face.
Did you know, Mandira Bedi's introduction to The World Of Cricket was so revolutionary, it sparked off two events. a) Charu Sharma suffers from progressive paravertebral muscle dystrophy, by which, I mean, he has a bent spine syndrome. b) Women Cricket Association of India.

Please send me your email addresses, if you want the entire list. I am amazed.

Yours trivially.

Parent Teacher Afflictions

2006-06-24T11:34:00.000+05:30

I have a strange tendency to use the titles of recently watched movies colloquially. The latest being Fanaa. I was never particularly strong with languages. As a matter of fact, I wasn't very academic. If I were, I wouldn't be blogging. I would be doing something serious like my wife.

This space is now available for advertisments.

Like a fool, yesterday at work, I told my secretary, I want to Fanaa you. Little did I know what it meant at the moment. Soon after my secretary's husband arrived to Fanaa me. It was really crazy & embarrassing. I got back home and had a huge argument with my wife on foreign languages.

Today's topic is Parent Teacher Associations (PTAs). Though I do not claim any children of my own, I was subjected to a PTA meeting recently. It is a secret congregation of parents & teachers and lots of pestilence (kids) that ruin a perfect Saturday. The school Pongy & Mintu go to guards this congregation as a matter of life and death. The school compels you to cancel exotic holidays just so you can meet the teachers and discuss your child's future.

Two Saturday's ago, P & M's parents had to urgently go out of station since someone near & dear was battling from acute diarrhoe. P & M's mum happens to be my wife's sister. I only know this detail because she call me Jeejaji. It was unavoidable for us to act like foster parents and take P & M to their school for a PTA. The only reason why I agreed to do this favor was; I could avoid P & M's birthdays next year. Also, after 15 years, I didn't want either of the kids to go on National Television and say, my uncle is responsible for our failures.

M studies in grade 7 and P studies in grade 9, which effectively meant we had to meet not one but two sets of teachers. My disgust for PTA meetings stems from the fact that as a child neither of my parents attended any of my PTA meetings, which technically means, I did not have a beeping clue.

The school was complete delirium with hundreds of kids and parents. We went over to Mintu's class first. Though the teacher recognized Mintu surprisingly, she had a hire-an-hour-parents look on her face when she spotted us. I quickly jumped to our defense and introduced ourselves as Mintu's uncle & aunt. After a lengthy & discomforting explanation about Mintu's original sinisters, the teacher brought out a printed booklet, the size of our local telephone directory. This contained Mintu's Official Attrocities at school.

Teacher Grievances: Mintu

Mintu was very irregular to school. His class present percentage was 41 while the school required 99.99999999% present percentage as a prerequisite, to allow a student to appear for annual examinations. I swear, I have spotted the kid outside movie theatres that screen adult fiction.
Mintu for his age is already sprouting a beard and pubic hair. I had a sudden urge to rip open his shorts and confirm it.
Mintu is unusually friendly with the boys. He has been spotted in consenting positions with some boys on the playground.
Mintu has hideous hand-writing.
Mintu's ability to spell, speak and write in English is nonexistent.
Mintu was caught kissing a girl in the girl's washroom. The teacher said, we have brought it your notice since the girl calls him, Mintu bhaiya and she is only in grade 4.
Mintu was found reading Debonair in Moral Science class. Upon further investigation we found, the book was from his father's personal collection. I was disgusted.
Mintu was reprimanded for starting his own religion. He dispended, God liketh thy man that taketh things into thy arms.

These were a few of Mintu's offenses that I can recall. There were some that involved paramedics, a fire station, The Indian Armed Forces and a bunch of deep sea divers.

After a barrage of complaints, I need a stiff something. I excused myself from the school and headed to a close by bar. After a few stiffs, I was ready for anything. If I had a forewarning, I would have been drinking from the night before and proceeded to the school with a hip flask. This time it was Pongy's turn.

Teacher Grievances: Pongy

Pongy is incredibly deft. Her ability to copy during examinations is rewardable.
Pongy is very poor at academics, especially, Science and Mathematics though she knows a guy's anatomy like the back of her palm.
In a group activity session on Who Is Your Role Model? she said, I am being serious, the girl from the infamous DPS MMS.
Pongy is way too radical for her age. She says, if the saying goes, All Men Are Dogs, Then I Am A Bitch. It is true, when she was 7 years old, I caught her listening to Like A Virgin.
Pongy's favorite snack at the school snackbar is Hotdog. She was suspended for a week for eating it suggestively with The Father.
Pongy's bag has been searched for drugs one time. They found baby carrots, wrinkled cucumbers and a 17" PVC pipe.
Pongy on most occasions does not wear a bra to school. Inadvertantly, my eyes gazed at her chest and for the first time I realised, how fully blossomed she was.

There were other incredible things the teachers told us about her. I was thoroughly ashamed. My childhood was Eastman color compared to their Blue films.

Anyways, after two weeks, I still do not know how to communicate these grievances to P & M's parents. I only hope they will fully understand their kids someday.

Yours fosterly.

Chintu's Saalgirah Mubarak!

2006-06-22T14:21:00.000+05:30

Introductions:

I am ashamed but I have to admit, I do not know how many siblings my wife has. Almost every Sunday, my wife has a quick-fire round on who's who in my family quiz questions, which I always fail. My best figures to date have been 4/10.

Yesterday happened to be Chintu's birthday and for the first time I realised Chintu was my wife's nephew, by which I mean, Chintu's dad is my wife's own biological brother. My initial reaction was not surprise but dismay, which possibly caused another argument between us about the validity of the truth.

Chintu's dad is an ostentatious, boorish man who made it big during the dot-com outburst. He is a nice sort of bloke when you don't have to meet him in person. I do not particularly dislike him but dislike my entire set of in-laws, without prejudice. I cannot possibly tell you all the reasons here since I make a very clear distinction between my personal and professional life.

It was Chintu's 12th birthday and they sent out an outrageous invitation with innumerable spelling mistakes. The party was at Chintu's farm house, 53 kms from where we lived. I was definitely not keen on going to a kid's birthday party. Not because, it was far out or I had to meet my in-laws but simply because it was ridiculous to drive 53 kms to sip on Pina Colada.

The invitation also mentioned in bold "keepink with our Sun's lickings V hav decided 2 hav a team party for him. The team is: Super Heros". This was ridiculous because, neither did I have the time to go and buy myself a costume nor did I have something ready in my wardrobe for it. I told my wife I will play Clark Kent and put on a fine 3-piece suit. She called me an uncreative & unimaginative lout and proceeded donning her artificial talons.

I wanted to gift Chintu books (Enid Blyton, P.G. Wodehouse, etc.) and give him a headstart with the art of book-reading while my wife wanted to buy him replicas of American Militia that included hand grenades, guns and a rocket launcher. After an enormous argument we settled for a Pooh Bear Soft Toy. I am just kidding. We got him several violent gifts. We are honing him to be a terrorist.

We reached the venue at 20:30 hours. The place was already teeming with dozens of Supermans, Spidermans, Hulk Hogans, Undertakers (to shift some old members), Elektras, He-mans, etc. The congregation of Mattel Toys.

Happy Birthday:

The place was beautifully done up. I am not very fond of outdoor gatherings but this was exquisite. The had a two huge figurines of Alien vs Predator swaying perilously in the darkness of the night threatening to cut loose and kill us all.

While all of us looked like jokers (me in a 3-piece suit), Chintu was dressed normally in a sherwani on the day of his marriage. What I am trying to convey is, is he was dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Apparently, he wanted to play Tarzan and his parents weren't willing to let him prance around on his 12th birthday in a loin cloth. Also, at the party were present many 12 year old girls.

The cake was half-a-face of Spiderman and the other half of Batman. That kid already had a crooked mind. All of us gathered and huddled around him and just when we were all going to sing the Happy Birthday song, his grandfather, meaning, Chintu's father's father and my wife's father broke into a monologue.

He briefly told us all about the History of Happy Birthday To You while Chintu matured into a fully blown adult during that period of time. Eventually, Chintu was allowed to cut the cake. A mere miracle happened at that moment. Chintu's grandfather was singing the original version of Good Morning To All, while a few of us including me sang the more popular version Go Chintu, It's your birthday, We gon' party like it's your birthday, We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday, And you know we don't give a fcuk, cause it's not your birthday!

Did anyone know Marilyn Monroe performed Happy Birthday, Mr. President? That is the only detail I remember from my FIL's discourse.

Menu:

It is true, Chintu's lineage is a confused one. I do not mean to disrespect their sexual proclivities but merely let my uninformed readers know that they are a family of many colors, races and mother tongues.

Technically speaking, Chintu's real name could be Arvind Donatello Balvinder Velkezu Kumaraswamy Lovely Sherpa. I am being serious.

This information is a necessary. It acts as a precursor to what you may expect.

Bisi Bela Huli Anna. I have absolutely NO idea what it means. Identifiable Ingredients: Rice.
Baingan Da Burtha. Identifiable Ingredients: None.
Makki Di Roti. Looked harmless. Nothing was going jump out and grab me. Identifiable Ingredients: Butter.
Chiau Ko Tarkari. Identifiable Ingredients: None.
Golveda Ra Dhaniya Ko Achaa. The name of this item was so long the placard couldn't accommodate it. My wife told me later that the last word was achaar.
Drumstick Leaf Errisery (Loose Consistency Curry). I asked my wife, if that was the translation of the dish into English and she asked me not to be silly.
Arrosto Morto. Identifiable Ingredients: Butcher's Cleaver. I kept my wife away from this item.
Cappelletti. Identifiable Ingredients: Italian.

Desserts:

Lassi Patiala
Vermicelli Payasam
Strawberry Custard, Fruit Salad & Jelly. (for the kids)
Zuppa Inglese

On our way home, I bought a big loaf of bread.

Fashion Faux Paus:

No party would be complete without mentioning a few of the well dressed men & women.

I was dressed as Clark Kent. When Chintu did not agree with me being a super hero, I immediately thrust myself forward like I was flying and missed the floor completely. I was going to be nice to Chintu only one more time. I grabbed my wife's dupatta and tied it around my neck like a cape.
My wife was dressed as Bat Girl with a dupatta. She had to do that because she was barely fitting into her leather pants.
Chintu's great-grand father was also dressed as Superman. He was in a wheel-chair.
Chintu's mum was dressed as Lil'Mermaid. She couldn't move throughout the party.
Chintu's dad wasn't dressed up. He was naturally Hanuman.
Chintu's grand dad (also my FIL) was dressed as Austin Powers. I kept telling him throughout, at his age, he is, The Spy Who Gagged Me.
One of Chintu's uncle was dressed as Shaktimaan. Its really hard to describe him.

There were lots of them worth a mention. I only have space for Chintu's immediate family.

Kudos!

It was a great party after all! We thanked our hosts especially Chintu's mum who couldn't get out of her chair. The party wound up around 0:30 hours. It was time for all of us to leave when Chintu's dad brought out his big present.

It was a power tools set.

Brute Breaker Demolition Hammer
Extra Heavy-Duty Self-Tapping Fastener Screw Driver
23" Benchtop Abrasive Cutoff Machine
Heavy-Duty Variable Speed Top-Handle Jigsaw

We were all surprised by the mere monstrosity of these tools. They were all real. Chintu's dad then informed us that his son showed an inclination towards carpentry and they believed in letting their child follow his dreams.

Take-away Gifts:

When I opened our take-away gift, I noticed a packet of condoms with a note that said Please Learn From Our Mistake.

Yours happy singhly.

PMS - Private Messaging Service

2006-06-22T10:55:00.000+05:30

As the title suggests, PMS is so far the best breeding place for cyber sex. I have to admit, over the years, I have indulged in many stimulating conversations, which has led to my unique ability; the ability to type with a single hand with the same proficiency, accuracy and speed. There is absolutely no shame in developing newer techniques to type.

I have befriended innumerable women, (I hope so) with whom I have shared many a roll of Kleenex. This turned out to be a compulsive, obsessive behavior, so much so, I started batting with a single hand.

Anyways, many years have passed since I quit this habit since I discovered voice-enabled, voice-recognition softwares. Now both my hands are free.

Subsequently I got married and everything came to a grinding halt. Several guys dressed in drag were replaced by my wife. My internet usage is now restricted to booking tickets, uploading and downloading pornographs of my family from various websites, checking email, helping my FIL and MIL find lyrics to songs since 1926, etc. My PMS life suddenly died an overnight death.

I still fear, a number of faceless buddies eagerly waiting for me to [insert] my [spacebar] into their [backspace].

Little did I know or was I aware that my wife also had/has/will continue to have till death do us apart a PMS life. When I first heard about it in theory, I was super excited. I could visualize my wife and I, sitting in different rooms with our computers and indulging in PMS till I truly discovered the meaning of it.

Medically, PMS means Psychotic Men Slayers though the more widely accepted definition is Premenstrual Syndrome. I have been brought up in a matriarchal society, by which I mean, my mum bullies my father, my brother bullies me and now my wife bullies me. Neither my mum nor my brother have displayed this syndrome in all the years I have known them. Apparently, this condition is pronounced different by the French, Italians and Germans. No, I am just kidding. PMS is severe in some women, while it is nonexistent in many men. My wife happens to belong to the former subdivision.

A Guide: What To Look Out For When Your Partner Is Beginning To Turn Genocidal. (This guide is purely meant for straight men. I do not take any responsibility for your killing.)

PMS is often associated with physical and emotional symptoms. Commonly noticed symptoms include:

Breast swelling and tenderness. I strongly advise you men folk not to get too excited by this new development. Touch them and you are carcass.
Joint and muscle pains. Don't call them old. Not just yet.
Headache. Do you all understand what a preying mantes is?
Food cravings. Stock up banana, pineapple, strawberry and kiwi flavored icecreams. You never know what she wants to eat.
Tension, mood swings and crying spells. All self-explanatory.

Once you have observed very keenly for any one of the aforementioned symptoms, its extremely simple. Stay the beep away. See if you can find a business trip or a one week holiday to your parents' place or lock yourself inside a room for a week and lose the key. I am not exactly advising you to do any of these things but they have all worked for me.

With great adversary comes greater contingencies. We all need to counter-attack this syndrome. Logically speaking, you have two options.

Follow my instructions on Do's and Don'ts.
ASPMS - Acquired Symptomatic Premenstrual Syndrome. (For this it is necessary to wax your legs, armpits and chest hair and develop breasts)

Do's:

Take her out shopping. Invest.
Take her out to watch a movie. Make sure it is not overtly sexual or gory.
Cook her a meal.
Watch Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi with a genteel smile.
Call Chintu's dad and invite yourself for dinner on Saturday night. Laugh at all his jokes and finally offer to take him on an all expense paid trip to an exotic destination.
Compliment your FIL's dress sense.
Offer your MIL the keys to your new car. Road kill.
Agree to take Pongy, Chintu and Mintu to watch Kkrish and to an amusement park.
Initiate foreplay and afterplay and forget about the sex.

Don'ts:

Exercise regularly, get enough sleep, choose a healthy diet, don't smoke.
Avoid excess salt, chocolates and alcohol.
Make sure you have enough vitamin suppliments. Take 500 mg tablets of Diazepam everytime you wake up.
Do not mention your ex-girlfriends and how they didn't suffer from PMS.
Do not talk about your first date.
Do not say anything about the door-knobs. Women during PMS react adversely when you speak of door-knobs in a derogatory fashion.
Do not say anything bad about the curtains, foot mats, table mats or the fine silver bone china. Speaking anything against inanimate objects might result in euthanasia.
Do not say anything against your in-laws. Extreme cases like mine have resulted in six-month celibacy.
Do not say why do you need so many STs?
Do not talk about child birth.
Do not use the word sex. If it is unavoidable, please use the word gender.

And lastly, please hope your wife never develops PMDD. (An advanced case of PMS that usually results in blood-shed. In case you detect it early enough, please offer you wife heavy doses of Sertraline with ample Vodka.

Yours partly privately.