Another 70 words...

“We are not ALONE !!!” she was ecstatic as every single person around the world was today...

“Yep!! But we never gonna see them, it’ll take aeons to reach ‘em”

“In that case , we'll wait for THEM to reach us !!” she beamed.

After a million years of solitary existence, Now we know we are not alone. Our equipments intercepted some signals from space, which showed some intelligent patterns. That was enough for the world to go tizzy. But the planet was located in some distant galaxy well beyond our reach.

“..Umm ..by the way, How they have named it…i mean the new planet “

“Well...After translating the Gathered signals to phonetics...umm….. it sounds…’Earrrth’…..weird name isn’t it”

“Weird it IS !!”

Aadmi ek aur goliyaa 6, bahut Naa-insaafi hai..

I was tagged by my friend gaurav few dayz back. I was supposed to write 6 weird things about me, I laughed.

It was like asking Shakuntala devi to recite “ 2 ki table”.
Or may be asking ganguly to utter 6 refined ‘gaalis’ for greg chapel. If the tag would have been to write 6 normal things about me then I would have to sweat it out looking up wikipedia and similar stuff. So without much Fu***** delay here I start my rant..

Hey!! Hey!! That’s “…. without much Further delay…” what didya think??? Here’s the list…

1. I have written more fiction than I’ve read..:- Yep !! That’s true…I am not too much in to novels and stuff. Once I read “the master of the game” by Sidney Sheldon and found it utter crap. So that was the first and last one for me of Sidney Sheldon. I prefer non-fiction; I like reading autobiographies, a lot of them. Poor me I haven’t yet completed reading da-vinci code. Mai jaanta hu mai aisaa abhaaga hu jiske dimaag me bhagwaan ne novel padhne waala software load nahee kiyaa *sob*

2. I love Physics: - It has always been my first love. Although I studied it till the 12th standard and didn’t get a chance to explore more but nevertheless I ate,drank and slept with physics (and coca cola too). I.E. irodov is the agatha Christie of secondary level physics problems.And I enjoyed every bit of playing the role of hercule poirot. (Sure I was quite successful as hercule solving nearly every “case” :))

3. I NEED a glass of water before switching from eating salted stuff to sweet dishes. Otherwise I won’t be able to lick my plate clean.

4. I’ve stayed for more than a year in nearly 5 states of India…that’s why I am well versed with almost all different dialects..be it bhojpuri or hariyanvi..

5. Before writing a post for my blog I read at least 3 previous posts to get into the groove of delivering the same quality of humour, (if any)

6. I’ve not combed my hair for the past six months rather I use my fingers to run through it. Now that’s WEIRDDD…*eeeewwwwksss*

Phewhhhhhhh!!!!! Now my job is done…now I have to pass this tag to 6 more people..hey my blog life is still in its farex-eating-bed-wetting age… so I don’t know many ppl around here but still …Sire/mam if you can take some time out of your super tight(spandex tight) schedule you can take this tag…a humble request… here’s is the list in alphabetical order

Adarsh, darsh , kishley, neers, sarvanan , shyam

Rules - weird baate likhne ka superhit formula...

You must post a blog with six weird facts or habits about yourself.These cannot be used against you later on (please Note!)At the bottom name the six people you will tag nextLeave them a comment to let them know they’ve been tagged and to read your blog.

chalo chalo show your weird side..

Ban gaya paalak-paneer

*For the first part plz scroll down a bit to get to the previous post.thankzz :)*

Lekin yahaa kuchh aur hi scene thaa….

I set forth for the sabji mandi with a jumbo jholaa, which had enough space for parthiv patel to pass his days inside peacefully.

When I walked on the street to the mandi , skeptical mothers pulled in their little children lest I abduct their child in my badaa jholaa and call them up later :-

”agar apne bacche ki salaamati chahte ho to pooraane khandahar ke peeche 10 lakh rupaye le kar aa jaana “

Poor me I just wanted to buy some non keede waala paalak for my Paalak paneer.Actually my mother needed just 200 gms of spinach but she was sure that I would bring some 50 gm ‘keedaas’ too along with the paalak ; that explained the margin. Maa never trusted me for household jobs, which I used to perform on an annual basis.

Then I was nearing Dubey ji’s residence…He was as always wearing his baniyaan (vest) and watering the weeds and hedgehogs in his lawn garden. Dubey ji worked in some State owned bank and earned enough to support the make up requirements of her two daughters and his wife. The Balding Dubey ji after his 10 to 4 job( It was a govnmt job!! as u might have heard that for the sarkaari employees “baarah baje late nahee aur teen baje bhent nahee”) used to slip in to his baniyaan and lungi and wud look after his garden (?) and check out the street romeos trying to throw some chits or signals for the daughters to pick.

Now as the popular adage goes : “Bald unclejies have beautiful daughters”. And it was so very troooooo for dubey ji *cold sighhhhhh*

His elder daughter was a college goer. She was attending college since I was a child…she did her BCA then her MCA and then MBA from the same deemed university.(soon the university would be renamed after her).
Daily morning as she came out of her house with a chamkeela suit and flowing dupatta, high heels and keeping two note books pressed against her breasts , all the lukkhhaas of the colony used to stare wid there mouths and eyes open as wide as my jholaa.

She had been my ‘Olive oyl’…but there were too many ‘Blutos’ to fight, so I gave up long ago…

Now I could sense that the sabji mandi was near, as I was able to hear the “Bhaavs” of the various vegetables like ki “…kaun see sabji kitne rupaye kilo..”.

The sabji mandi was buzzing with activity as It was the “shaam kaa time” and I could see various worn out unclejies fighting it out wid the vendors for the cheapest possible bhindi and kaddoo or anything else for that matter. These unclejies were sent by their wives to get something for the “raat ki sabji”. As the shade of the sky got darker , the vendors lit up the gas lamps or “petromaxxx” (as they call it) to attract more insects than customers.

“Kyaa chahiye saab” I was disturbed as I was enjoying the site of two fleas mating airborne near the petromaxx.

“errr.. mm.. bhaiyaa paalak kaise diye”

“15 rupaye ke aadhaa kilo…le jaao saab bilkul phreshh hai”

“LOOOT RAHA HAI KYAA TUUUUU….” A tough female roar shook me.
Even the mating fleas “ki bhi phat gayee” and they heavy heartedly separated.

I turned around to see a mighty aunty wearing salwaar kameez which wud be enough to cover the whole Indian team let alone parthiv patel. She must be a punjaabi aunty I speculated.
As you know these soni punjaabi kudiyaas no longer remain a soni kudi after marriage. It has been noted that their age represents their girth. A 26 yr kudi will have his ‘kamariyaa’ measuring around 26 inches and when they reach the age of 38 it burgeons to 38 inches and above.
Talking of the “punjaab da puttars” I remember an incident when I was in my 8th grade.
Their was a marriage hall near my house. One night there was some marriage party going on. I read the glowing neon sign which read...

“Surinder weds Gurinder”

I was confused for who was the dulhaa and who was the bride.( As u know names are not sexually biased in Punjab).
Then next day in my school during the lunch hour I sarcastically recalled this in front of my friends referring to it as probably a GAY marriage as both the names appeared to be masculine to me. Hysterical laughter followed…(we 8th graders were low on sense of humour so we choked our lungs laughing on the lamest of jokes)

Unfortunately there was a “Punjab da pappu” too listening to all this in my group, then he explained me patiently that girls and boys can have the same name too in their clan. It took him full five minutes to explain me all this.
And it’s noteworthy that during the full course of this explanation he was grabbing my collar and punched me every time he encountered any punctuation mark in the sentences he spoke…

So coming back to the mandi .Our desi popeye was done with the bargaining as the Punjabi aunty helped him get the spinach at the cost of dead fleas per kg. As I was nearing my home the thought of paalak paneer enticed me. Anybody could have traced me to my home from the sabji mandi following the trail of drool I left behind.

I barged in to my house…and shouted with excitement

“Maaa ye lo paalak aur pyaaz…… paalak bikul phreshh hai….chalo ab jaldi se banana shuru karo *slurp*” I said rubbing my palms together in anticipation.

“Lekin beta power to hai hi nahee…. Mixer ke binaa paalak ki puree kaisee banegi….ye navraatri ke kaaran power cut huaa hai”

“haiiiiii…….” my mouth was open…

“pataa nahee kab aayegi light…aisaa karti hu paalak kaa soup banaa deti hu” mum came up with an idea.

“Paaaaalakkkkk kaaaa soooooouppp………”

*My heart was bleeding* :(

I was roing khoon ke aansu….Devdaas kahaa hai tu , ruk mai aata hu..

Popeye ka paalak paneer

Today is my 20th day at home , and in these 20 days I‘ve by-hearted all the signature songs of the Eeeks!! Brand serials ( hey EeeKs = ekta kapoor’s ) , Danced like chunkey pandey at the ganesh visarjan of our colony waale ganeshji ,
Bribed the traffic ‘thullaa’ 3 ½ times for driving without license and a girl friend….(Bajaj ke scooters par girlfriend nahee ghumaaya karte , wo sirf RDX rakhne aur udaane ke kaam aata hai…ye kuchh zindagi ke kadwe sach hai)….

and then I called up my pooraane maths ke masterji… excerpts from the conversation…

Master ji : “…achaa beta padhaai sahee chal rahee hai??…abhi to final year me hoge tum..?? “

“haa sir, ye last year hai aur phir agle saal se wipro me joining hai..” I was beaming

“ bahut achee baat hai beta …kitni salary milegi wahaa”

“Sir abhi to 3.1 ka Package hai join karne se pehle ek hike hone ki ummeed hai”

“Umm.. achaaa…”
Then suddenly I realized that I was spilling too much jargon for him to get the facts straight.

“Sir matlab …agar per maheena jodaa jaaye to kareeb ..umm..23..*mentally dividing that fucking 3.1 by 12* ..24 hazaaar paanch……..”

“ Pachhees hazaar aaath sau taittees (25833) per month” He announced with a math’s teacher’s conviction.

“haa sir …err wahee ….utnaa hi milega….” My face was like as if queen Elizabeth is forced to sip 502 pataaka chai…

Ironically he was my math’s teacher…and I didn’t even let him have a sniff of the fact that I was also preparing for CAT with such ‘great’ quant ‘skills’.

In these 20 days I’ve taken up blogging as well.My blog was languishing in dark for the last 3 months with a single post to its name. But now its like the fifth pay commission report.

Yesterday evening I was deleting the contents of the history folder of my browser (apne gunaaho ke saboot mitaa rahaa tha!!) , ma called me from the kitchen


“Beta !! aaj kyaa khaaoge”….my head turned 270 degrees hearing this.

Maa was in some good mood to feed his bhookhaa bachaa with his manpasand khaana . Not because peace process has been restored in Bosnia but because ekta kapoor would have announced some new serials or may be the pados ki ‘ghamandi’ Saxena aunty was conned by a saaree dealer.

“Maa Paalak paneer banaao aaj….*slurp* ” I said this drooling buckets.

“Achaa theek hai ! lekin paalak to hai hi nahee ghar me…jaa sabji mandi se jaakar dhaai sau gram paalak le aa”

In a flash all the saliva inside my mouth dried up .”Jaa ke le aa” arey yaar kaam kaa naam sun ke hi mujhe lakwaa maar jaata hai.I was looking at maa aghast as she was pulling some 10 rupee notes from her purse.

“Aur beta ½ kilo pyaaj bhi le lena…..aur dekh kar lena…. keede waala paalak mat uthaa laana”

“theek hai maaa..” with a heavy heart I moaned.

*Aur paalak khaao mere popeye*

Well the sabji mandi was not like the ones you have in phoren countries or Indian metros where the “sabji” is kept In an air conditioned “show-room” for high heeled slim trim aunties to pick them up with their manicured fingers and the may-I-help-u-*smile* type attendants ready to help. And at last u receive a printed bill for buying 250 gms of spinach(not paalak you blaady Indian) mentioning the calory count as well.
“Bargain” for them, was a word as cheap as Pope watching a govindaa movie.

Lekin yahaa kuchh aur hi scene thaa..

To be Continued……

P.S: hey gaurav, buddy i'll complete your tag as soon as i publish the next part.

LIFE...

The sea always enchanted me…the unending wide sheet of blue water creased by the waves and life…fastened to the clouds at the other end…
The golden sand , the fuzzy foam stitched at the ends of the waves , and the ‘keep’ of the sea ..Sun..spending each night in it’s mighty embrace… I loved ‘em all…It was near the sea where I grew up…frolicked around…lived a LIFE

But now things have not been the same for the last three months. Many of our neighbors started to disappear suspiciously…most of them were last seen in the sea ppl say…but How can a sea as serene as this , engulf it’s own children ; that was my point…Our family moved to some other beach side locality as several others did…The ones who disappeared never returned to tell their tale…

I continued to play with the waves and smell the sand…..

Now I know where all those neighbors ended up , As I recollect these golden memories being caught in a net myself. I’ll also be served dead on a platter with spices in some oriental restaurant.
Life’s not too good being a crab , seriously.

The 70 word story..

‘Twas around midnight…a moonlit night bustling with activity…. it's the big apple…New York…

I waited there on the sidewalk.

    A petite girl in her late teens was standing beside me , wearing an outfit revealing her near to perfect assets…curves to die for…

    A biker halted near the sidewalk…hurled a 50 dollar bill at the girl…the girl smiled…and they rode along..
    I was still waiting…. And a few moments later a limo screech stopped near the sidewalk …I reapplied my mascara…lifted my bosom…Limo’s window rolled down…

He called me in…And I obliged…

“Foolish girl !!” I said to myself . Experience counts…isn't it??

Chopra khaandan ki kahaani khatam huyee..

*Scroll down a bit for the 1st and the 2nd part ofthe chopra saga*

The iklauta waaris of chopra khaandan is due to arrive today from ‘vilaayat’ after ‘poori karke’ his padhaai. And you know what to expect next….

He is the most eligible bachelor with a silver spoon in his mouth and a phoren MBA degree shoved up his a$$ …The kittens in the chopra office are waiting for him…
He’s bound to be a hunk…he’s the hero…the blue-eyed boy of the show.

He had a ‘apne-pairo-par khadaa-honaa-chahta-hu’ attitude…so initially he was reluctant to join the family business but eventually was coaxed by his ailing dadaji to take the plunge.

Dadaji told him how French bearded evil managers have siphoned ‘bahut saara paisaa’ from the family business with the help of the sleeveless blouse clad Vamp who happens to be a disgruntled family member…the one who subscribes to the “barbaad kar doongi” school of thought…

“Betaa ab mai thak gayaa hu..*coughs* chopra industries ka bojh apne kandho par dhote dhote *coughs* ab to upar waale se yahee guzaarish hai ki jaldi se..*coughs* apne kareeb bulaa le”
(To churn out such tough words while being in such a state of health as he was.. it seemed he was the dialogue writer of Salma aghaa movies in his prime)

“nahee…bhagwaan ke liye aisaa mat kahiye dadaji..”

“eeeeewwwwwwkkkkksss” I say , but quickly subside when ma gives me a cold stare.

*about a hundred violinists are sweating it out with their instruments in the background to produce a perfect ronaa-dhonaa music*

The US return hero hasn’t forgotten his bhagwaan inspite of numerous night outs in posh pubs, guzzling beer from the barrel and holding life-time memberships of famous strip clubs…he is still an ‘apna desi Indian ladkaa’… A perfect daamaad material…
Now this is a very critical moment , As ma is about to give in to the imosshhhnal moment with the eyelashes already soggy , if at this point I make any lewd remarks or show my distaste for the ‘bechaare beemaar dadaji’ or the lad , I’ll have to cook maggi for my dinner...

My chances of escaping would be as bright as the chances of Katrina kaif speaking bhojpuri or Uday chopra being picked for spielberg’s latest movie.

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

Dadaji’s words wakes up the napping zameer of the square jawed young man. He finally makes up his mind to take chopra industries to the Fortune 100 list.

And today , is his first day at office , where Dada ji is about to hand over the power of attorney to his ‘kaabil’ grandson.
*Now this is another term (P.o.A) which my mum is well aware of , Courtesy: ekta kapoor , not economic times*

Sameer , sameer chopra (err..effect of watching james bond movies with urdu subtitles) enters his office,he walks briskly acknowledging his staff..obviously nobody recognizes him…

…Our heroine with a bundle of papers which looks like a manuscript of a dictionary , walks out of her cubicle…sameer is advancing …And quite predictably she bumps into sameeer and after tossing the bundle skywards…falls into the arms of our blue eyed Samson….Harps being played in the background…super slow motion camera in action….she lies there in the arms of the hero with their “aankhe chaar”….they keep looking in each others eyes… A4 size sheets of paper slowly descend in the background…they are in a state of absolute bliss…the mushy mushy music looping…

*eewwwwksss*

Then suddenly the heroine realizes that it’s time for a commercial break so she gathers herself and starts collecting the fallen papers and says

“uhh aa..aaap deh kar nahee chal sakte kyaa??”

Sameer is having a mysterious smile on his face. He makes a face like shahi kapoor and lets out a super corny sher…as his answer…the heroine should fall for this…but she has to act tough… as the producers and my ma claim this serial is different……*ahem*

“ pata nahee kahaa kahaa se chale aate hai”

The hero is still smiling. All perverts take harsh words from beautiful girls as compliments.

My mum is all smiles , as she wants to go and tell the girl *arey buddhu ladki jisse tu lad rahee hai wahee to tera boss hai *…The TRP register is whirring….
Well this is an age old trick to make the viewer feel supreme , make him the keeper of all the secrets.Late Hrishi daa was a master at this , remember chupke chupke , golmaal…

After few moments when she is done with arranging the “bahut important file”…she’s called to Chopra sahaab’s cabin.
Dada ji is there standing with the dude, the waaris of chopra khaandaan…the heroine enters the cabin…
Dadaji : “Karishma !! kya aggrawal builders ki file ready hai..??”

“haaa sir ..Bas abhi laati hu..”

“Ruko bete pehle apne naye boss se to mil lo.. ye hai Sameer , mera potaa …The neiw Managing director of chopra indhustreees”

Our hero has still that shashi kapoor smile pasted on his face..”hello..” he says…

Our heroine, karishma is dumbstruck…Cameras from three different directions zoom on her with bomb explosions in the background…..

AND today’s episode ends…..

As i was just about to let out a Jumbo sigh of relief …another signature song was played…aur phir Viraani pariwaar ki kahaani shuru ho gayee….

*hai rabbaaaa mainu bachaaao…jitendar ki beti ko jahannum nasseeb ho…*

And it was time for me to get another packet of lays.

Chopra khaandan ki kahaani - dweetiyaa..

for the first part scroll down...

“Dekhti hu iss baar kaise bachte ho Mr. RAJVEER CHOPRA”.*echo echo echo *.her tone becomes vicious when she announces the name….

*drums beating interspersed with some shamshaan ghaat music *(don’t ask me what it is)

The Vamp carries a grand orchestra tied to his silk pallu and a full Shehnaaj hussain beauty parlor in her handbag. The room looks like a lobby of some five star hotel smelling of a ton of Do number kaa paisaa.

It has to look magnificient as It is the pushtaini makaan of the chopra khaandaan.
* bhaai saab izzat ka sawaal hai*

Scene 2 :

Party time… As the mighty chopras have just bagged a multi million dollar contract. (even the producer of the show has no idea what product do the chopras manufacture let alone my ma…).

They are all dressed up in designer suits holding a glass each of what looks like premium apple juice but in reality is municipalty tap water. After every two minutes they let out a rich n successful bizzneshman hasee “ haah haaaah haah”…
They use words like tender, clients, deadline, shipment while they talk and my ma thinks they are the reason why the Indian economy is galloping ahead. A cheap quality saxophone is being played in the background with probably the saxophonist held at gun point.

* Saxophone naam se hi high class lagta hai naaa *…

Few other people are shown enjoying in the backdrop.they are the cousins of the spotboys who’ll be paid 75-80 rs for shaking their head and gesticulating with their hands as if finalizing business deals.They form the crowd of the party. No viewer looks at them except their relatives in their gaaon in U.P. and bihar.

“Arey Mishra ka laundaa Tee bhi (tv) par aaya hai dekho uhaa kone me khadaa hai…Suit boot pahine hai….ketna badaa aadmi ban gaya hai *sigh * ”
Mishra is sure a proud father today, whose son inspired by govinda ran away with ‘maa ke jewar’ for “hero ban ne” to baaambay.

***********************
At this point of time I am as interested in the serial as rabri devi is interested in the Spanish premier league or Pamela Anderson in the politics of jharkhand.
But I am too lazy to displace my butt to some other coordinates so I stay there lying with the empty lays packet.

Scene 3 :

The chopra head office where our sundar susheel actress works is shown.She is as busy with the files as if she has to attend a WTO meet the next day….She is hard-working…she’s the ideal bahoo…My mum looks at me *ahem* I look inside the lays packet K..

The iklauta waaris of chopra khaandan is due to arrive today from ‘vilaayat’ after ‘poori karke’ his padhaai. And you know what to expect next….

To be continued……

(1st comment of the post : A maamu jaldi se khatam kar re…kaiko itna dimaag kaa chemical kharch karela hai tu..)

Chopra khaandan ki kahaani..

It’s been a week since I arrived at my home sweet home with the college reopening date as distant as Papua New Guinea.

Just as Ashish nehra was born with injuries, rahul mahajan with a sachet of cocaine and Reshamiya with his topi on; I was born with a spoon and plate in my two little hands; my mum says this sarcastically as she kneads the dough for my aaloo paraatha.
    And I carelessly munch on chaat-street lays lying on my bed like a pig , switching channels on TV.
I have always been a bhookha bacchaa giving any child in Ethiopia a run for his money. (Food for thought: Do Ethiopian children have any money??)
The delivery boy at the local pizza hut was like a family member to us.

Few more months to go and I’ll be done with my engineering. The corporate life begins in April-may next year. Every dog dreads the life of a software engineer.

Isiliye jab tak ghar par hoo chill maarne do yaaro..

When my mum was done with the dough , she came charging towards the living room where the all-important TV was. I was lying there looking inside the torn lays packet. Few wafers were peeping out reluctant to come out.
Mum looked at the wall clock (2 minutes to 8pm) and said in an authoritative tone

“Remote !!”

I deposited the remote meekly on her open palm like the hafta given to the ‘Bhais’ in aamchi mumbai. (last nite bhot mach mach huaa tha re Baap Remote ke peeche )

Then have a look what commenced on the buddhu baxaa..(TV)

“Isss kaaryakram ke praayojak hai ………..(It was like baba sehgal reading the list of brands of tel, shampoo, saaabun, chaddee ; such was the pace)……”
.
In between, my mum keeping her eyes glued to the idiot box said with excitement

“Aaj maalum padega ki Chopra khaandaan ki jaayedaad kaa asli waaris kaun hai.”

“Hmmmm…*err*….Achaa….” it was as amusing as the SAF games to me.

Then the signature song of the serial is played with the names of the people being displayed one by one, who fool my mum and a million others daily.

In the signature song A girl who looks like forced into wearing a salwaar-kameez, gets up in the morning with a l’oreal mascara and a Revlon lip-gloss on (and you would think she’s a bar-girl with all the makeup on..Not at all… she’s a sundar susheel, employed, ambitious ladki with a 250gms packet of traditional values and sanskaar always ready in her handbag)…her name starts with the letter ‘K’ and so is the name of the serial.
     Then in the song you’ll see her get up from her sleep and ....smile…and when she is ready for the office she looks at her parents and she ….smiles…..then she bows to the bhagwaanji’s idol in her house and she…..smiles….(Note: Which bhagwaanji’s idol is to be shown , depends upon the faith of the production house)
     Then she’s shown waiting for the BEST bus…the bus magically appears within seconds of her arrival..she boards the bus despite the rush…The girl is tough….
And then while getting the tickets from the conductor again she smiles… no wonder TVS victor is one of the sponsors…. more smiles per hour….(Note: the signature song is sung by some runner up of a nation wide singing talent hunt, after his solo album sales kissed ground zero )..The song subsides as she reaches her office..

A quick fire Recap is shown with drum rolls and cymbals’ clapping then the episode commences

Scene 1:

A lady is shown wearing jewellery enough to make bappi lahiri take off his glasses and take notice.with a bucketful of make-up on she is sitting on a couch and talking to herself.a weird music plays in the background (customized for the vamp of the serial)..

*I look at my mum’s face which was all smiles a few moments ago, has changed into that of hatred and anger.i don’t know whether she really hates the evil intentions of the lady or she is plain jealous of the amount of jewellery the vamp possesses*

“Mai iss chopra khaandaan ko barbaad karke rakh dungi.ek ek sitam ka badla lungi.”

* drum rolls *
“Dekhti hu iss baar kaise bachte ho Mr. RAJVEER CHOPRA”..her tone becomes vicious when she stresses the name….

To be continued…

Babool Babool paise wasool !!

Finally I reached home, after spending three months dipping daily in Saambhar and washing clothes in korma (the local veg curry ..it sucks big time!!) .

Once when I was a li’l curious child, I needed to board a city bus daily to attend my maths tuition (math’s kaa master bahut peet ta tha yaar !!). One day inside the bus, I was standing as all the seats were occupied (it seems these people captured those seats just as the bus was rolled out of the bus manufacturing plant).
I made a ‘filmy cute anaath besahaara bacchaa’ face fishing for some aloknath-types to let me sit on their seat. But nobody was willing to buy in to my ‘sorry’ state as the daily commuters were well aware of my moronic intentions and they would never part their bums with the prized seat for a ‘chaloo chhokra’.

Then suddenly a ‘naya murga’ saw me and with a kilo of gutkha in his mouth said

”Arey itna chhota baccha bechaara khada hai,aao munna ihaa humaare god mein baith jaao”…
I thought of letting out a “bhagwaan kare tere bacche jiye,tera ghar aabaad ho” but thinking that it was too early for my age to say that . I ‘innocently’ settled in his lap.

“Thankkiyu uncle” I said with all the meekness and gratitude the world churned out in a year.
The person sitting next to ‘my shikaar for the day’, let out a sarcastic “heh!!” seeing me sitting pretty. Obviously he was a daily commuter witness to my daily ‘kameeniyat se bhare’ antics.
The rickety bus was moving at the pace of an octogenarian’s evening walk the only difference being that the old man would be harmless and this bus was like a blind bull with its tail on fire (to the plight of the ppl on the road) and arthritis-stricken legs.

The “bhala aadmi’ on whose lap I was sitting seemed to generate half of the annual revenues of goa gutkha. I was wondering what he had more for the lunch; rice or the stuff he was chewing on.
My bus stop was still about fifteen minutes away. My math’s teacher would be waiting with a ‘babool ki chadee’(stick) in his hand hoping that the gargantuan homework he gave us to complete would be unfinished and he would wreak havoc by lashing out a sudoku grid on my baby ass by wielding his babool stick.

At the beginning of the month when we used to pay our monthly fees, he would accept it with the widest grin possible, and then I couldn’t help thinking about the then famous ad jingle
“babool babool paise vasool”.

We used to pray to shaktiman to save us from him but as we came to know that the superhero won’t help those who didn’t eat Parle-G (the brand he was endorsing then) we always had a Parle-G pack ready in our tuition bags only to be robbed off by the master’s li’l asshole son. (And obviously we couldn’t complain). He derived gr8 pleasure in watching his father acting as sivamani(gr8 percussionist) with our little bums as his drums.

Thinking all this gave me a cold shiver. But my lazy ass self would forget all this when I reached home. I used to loiter around the neighborhood sniffing, which aunty ji is cooking what in a hope to gobble some of it by moaning

“Mummy ne to aaj khaana nahee banaaya.Bolaa ki daal roti khaa lo*sniff*sniff*”

And the aunties falling in to the trap would feed me more to extract some ‘raaj ki baat’, which would become a topic of some hot gossip across the neighborhood.” Maalum hai chunnu ki mummy ne aisaa kiyaa…..maalum…”

And my shocked mum would say
”Tere jaise bacche ko to aur peetnaa chahiye”..And no surprises all my excuses to
Bunk the maths tuition class like
“Mummyyyyy pate dukh raha hai.aaj jaa nahee paaunga class”

“Tere ko to peet peet kar le jaaungi tuition.chal naalaayak” .A jhaadoo in her hand made me to oblige.
And my mum and my tuition master were like alpha-Charlie on the BSNL landline

“Alpha to Charlie.. Alpha to charlie ..chunnu ghar se nikal gaya hai ..Over!!”

“ Charlie to alpha… chunnu abhi tak nahee pahucha hai …Over!!”

As you can see there was no chance of me bunking the class by loafing around the city once I came out of my house. Life was tough and tougher with an incomplete homework.
------------------------
My bus stop was still a healthy five minutes away. I was looking around for some vacated seat desperately because the ‘bhala aadmi’ was about to spit the bucket full of matter, which he had in his mouth. Then suddenly my eyes got glued to a poster stuck above the window which read……


GUPT ROGI MILE !!
(………..
some hindi medical jargon..
…………….)
Dr. Shah clinic, Room no. 45
Hotel sunshine
Bus stand ke peeche-17

This was all regular stuff for me being a daily commuter but what I noticed was that a new doctor was in town (Dr. Saini and Dr. jain were winding up their operations here). But the thing that took my breath away was that the ‘Bhala aadmi’ carrying me, was religiously noting down the address written on that poster. And for the first time I felt something beneath my bums (which were rendered senseless by the ‘babool ki chadee’)…I immediately got up and ran for the exit and before getting down the slowing bus I cried out

“ Saaale GAY buddheyyy….teri.@#$#@”

The ‘bhala aadmi’ would have been shocked. And the person sitting next to him would have said
“ I told you not to seat him..he is such an ungrateful li’l moron”

As I came out panting, I realized that babool was the only thing, which I wanted to FEEL on my bums.

Life moved on after that incident took place.I continued going to the math’s tuition at the behest of my mum and to the chagrin of my bum.

Days, months, years passed on, time flew. My 10th board results came out and accidentally I scored 95+ in mathematics. I remember that day I went with a box of sweets to the math’s tuition. When I touched his feet I could see his eyes bubbling with pride and happiness. He called out his wife and all nice words were said and even the teacher’s li’l moron (who grew into a naughty boy!!) was happy for me.

When I came out of his house cluthcing a gifted pen-set I was wondering how on earth this cold-blooded man could be happy for me. How he could say all those nice words he said. How could... he have a Heart?

Well time taught me. After my 10th I moved to DPS to complete my +2 in a big city
and then to my engineering college. Slowly all links to the old town weathered away. My mum told me that the teacher’s family moved to some other town where he got a job in a residential school.
And Now I am about to complete my engineering colg life. Next year I will be working for Wipro.And this day when I look back I can SAY..

“Maths teachers DO have a heart !!”

A very Happy teachers day Sir wherever you are…

-garam bheja fry

"...College nahee jaana kyaa.."

How do you feel when you get up in the morning and look for your crisp newspaper with the kadak chai and what you get by the kripa of indra bhagwaan is a soggy lump of paper blob with enough water in it for rakhi sawant to wash her clothes in. Then you switch on the idiot box

and hop to any 24x7 news channel to know what happened around the world while you snored 8 hrs to the chagrin of the neighbourhood chors(thieves).
jus have a look...

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

Sanjay: "Aaiye hum aap ko le chalte hai rahul mahaajan ke ghar jaha humaare samvaad daata deepak chaurasia maujood hai"

" haa deepak kyaa aap hamey sun sakte hai"

(Deepak is on screen and he is as blank as laloo's 10th board answer sheet)

"Deepak aapko humaaree awaaz aa rahee hai...deepak"

Deepak : "...haa sanjay boliye"

(People behind Deepak desperate to come on TV are waving as if stranded on an island for ten years and trying to signal a far off ship in sight)

"Deepak iss wakt wahaa rahul mahaajan ki shaadi ki kaaafi gehma gehmi hogi.kyaa mahaul hai iss wakt wahaa par??"

“Sanjay jaisaa ki hum sab ko pataa hai.aaj rahul mahaajan ki shaadi shweta se hone jaa rahee hai.subah se hi yahaa BJP ke diggaj netaao kaa taanta lagaa huaa hai…”

(He’s referring to shweta as if she was his school time sweetheart)

TURRRRRRRRRRRRRR !!!!!! a scooter passes by and deepak is interrupted…
With renewed energy he speaks up

”Apko bataa du ki is shaadi ke liye 25 kilo gehu 35 kilo basmati chawal , khoob saare MDH brand masaale aur sajaawat ke liye 5 kilo phool bhi mangaaye gaye hai aur gaur karne waali baat ye hai ki phool bilkul Phreshh hai…pandaal banaane me kaamdhenu sariyaa(iron rods) istemaal kiya gaya hai”
Then suddenly the camera shifts to Sanjay in the studio when he comes to know of the fact that he is on-air and he has nothing to speak and Deepak on the other side is dictating the recipe of the mughlai biriyani. Sanjay is speechless and his face is like as if he has pissed in his pants.

Deepak : “…..shweta abhi abhi twinkle beauty parlour se facial karaa ke aayi hai.chaliye unse hi poochhte hai ki wo kaisaa mehsoos kar rahee hai”
Shweta comes out of her car and Deepak rushes to her to get some exclusive footage.there's already a battery of media persons mobbing her wid "shaadi karke kaisaa lag raha hai ??" type questions..

Deepak: “Shweta ji .bataaiye aap facial karaakar kaisaa mehsus kar rahee hai??”

Deepak trying to shove the microphone up her nostrils.

”shweta ji …shwetaa ji bataaiye….” deepak struggling.

she looks up to her bodyguard….

And immediately the telecast is switched to the studio cameras and Sanjay sitting there says in a hurried tone.

“Chaliye ab chalte hai Raakhi saawant ke paas jo ye maang kar rahee hai ki item numbers ka bhi oscar nomination honaa chahiye..”
In the meantime Deepak while trying to get some exclusive footage, got some real exclusive “Foot”age on his ass from shweta’s bodyguard.Now the entire wedding is covered by a Worldtel camera from a safe distance.

when you feel that you are pissed enough for the morning you switch it off and a female shrill voice so nasty that would incur a buried man dig out of his grave and scurry clutching his tombstone. "..Colg naheeeee jaana kyaaaaaa.."

And you get into your trousers judging the merit of rakhi saawant's demand of an oscar nomination.Hope the next day u get a dry one.

 

The gr8 Indian *spicy* baraat

Note: This post is based on my experiences of a baaraat attended last winter.

Its the shaadi season on...right now...with every other day a fanatic and jubilant baaraat passing by our street..last saturday i was pushed into one..my good ol' neighbour deshmukh ji's son was getting married...

I hadn't had much shit shared with his eldest son...so i was reluctant to attend the function (actually my cablewallah promised to show a 'hot' flick that night...which i wanted to enjoy undisturbed..that aggravated my reluctance)...well but in such matters mum's the word and she had promised deshmukhi (mrs deshmukh) that the whole family wud be present...so there was no way out...
Well for a teenager these wedding parties can be summed up as:

a) chance to see hot chicks in traditional wear

b) exhibit their kick ass dancing skills

c) and some real good food

(well the last one appealed to me the most...despite not being a teenager but a big foodie)...

The baraat had to march for about 3-4 kms before reaching the desti.....the baraat was getting ready to depart from deshmukhji's house to some marriage garden.

I could hear the "hello 123 mike check" and the occasional blares of the saxophone.as the baraat was preparing to move.... i gelled my hair dressing up formally.i had to put a pullover on as a stamp of my mother's authoritry...(comeon!! pullovers are so "budhaape ki nishanni")...i joined the bandwagon.....

The air was thick with smell of scent and perfumes..as if the spray bottles were used like fire extinguishers...the baraat had three sections ..

1) At the front was the baraat gaadi with the singer(?) in it and the sound system.the shaky gaadee had the singer with a real shaky voice...just following the baraat gaadee were a grp. of over ecstatic children dancing on self choreographed moves...looked like "popcorns over a hot pan" from a distance...

2)the second section was of those "the complete men" in dark colored suits...marching gallantly with frowns on their faces..( these were the why-the-hell-i-came types......i was one of them)....whispering in each other's ears occasionally registering their contempt...and there were some neo-suitclad brats(those wearing it for the 1st time) were basking in the ambitious stares thrown from the chicks...

That grp included the groom's younger brother who was trying to show he was real busy and concerned by keeping a fancy cellphone stuck to his ear...no guesses he was NEXT

3)..The last section but the most glamorous section had all the ladies and the "to be" ladies...were sparkling as if been giftwrapped...the section was led by the all so important the groom on a ghodee...with a smile pasted on his face....the pasted smile wud fall over often with any wrong step taken by the ghodee..."kyuki dulhe ki phati huyee hai..." a whispered sentence i overheard..

The ladies were moving like thick clot...well i filtered a few refined maals(items!!) from the lady bheed..and i was content with occasional exchange of smiles with them.....

As the baraat was moving thru the colony....i was dumbfounded by the never-seen-before sightings...the great indian baaraat is such a glorious and majestic affair that it pulls out the most sophisticated and introvert people out of their houses to have a look at it,whomsoever house the baraat passes by.....
So the baraat attracted those aunties and gals who were restricted to the confines of their home by their hubbies and parents...prohibiting the mawaali's like us to have a "good" look at them....newly wed aunties with their ruffled attire..the unmanaged flowing silky hair falling on those sleepy eyes..and such innocent lips...the just-out of-the bed look....made them look more sexier....where the hell these gems were hidden...
The chicks in the baaraat whom i bartered a few smiles with, were caught off-guard when they saw me staring at "greener pastures"....

As the baraat left the colony premises and ...was nearing it's finish line..i.e. the marrg. garden...the 20 something lads began to shake their booty in between giggles of the dumber chicks who were waiting for this...they began to dance viciously...and some of the overexcited were spraying shaving foam over the dancing samsons to produce the "effect"...

One of the jubilant lad was spraying from a gillettte can...was poked in the ribs by an elder and taken to one corner and was reprimanded for wasting such expensive variety and was told to spray from some cheaper alternatives..and saving the expensive can for magnum opus performances.......
And soon the older "lads" the 35+ brigade was pushed on to the dance floor (the road that is!!)...these hair dyed,potbelly uncles know only one style of dancing patented in the 1970's...throwing their arms in air and lifting one leg and jumping....probably trying to bhaangra but failing miserably...
Some of them pulled out 50-100 notes(money bills!) from their wallets and were ready to part with it..(this is a tradition in the indian baraats to tip the bandmen for playing with more josh and energy.)....the drummers and the bandmen's eyes lit up seeing the notes come out...they began to play with a new energy...

Those uncles with the bills in their hands were trying to exhibit their extravagance...and wouldn't let loose of the money lest at least 50 people see the note going in the pockets of the bandmen..so that those 50 talk about the generousity of the so n so uncle after the marriage to the other 100...
One of the uncles when reached out for his wallet "to do the act"...he found it missing....well one of the bandmen saved him from the effort of pulling the 50 rupee bills out of the wallet and jumping umpteen times before letting it loose..and giving it to the bandmen..his pocket was picked by one of the bandmen...
The wallet transferred directly from the uncle's pocket to the bandman's pocket without seeing the light of the day(oops!! night)...this is what i call P2P transfer..pocket 2 pocket (this pun goes to all fella S/W engnnrs)......
Some of the aunties were asking my mum "kyaa likh rahaa hai abhishek..." when i was noting the "finer points" of the baraat..my mum ordered me to abandon whatever crap i was up to and pretend to look more involved and happy just like everyone else was....i meekly followed her instructions...*making a baiju baawra face whose patriarchal sitar has just been snatched*

The baraat reached its desti and there was some fireworks display amidst the shrieks and cheers from the gals.
And it was all over with the dulha entering the marriage garden after getting down from the ghodee...to get ready to ride another ghodee (oops!! adult material)....


Update : The couple is happily married but without any "khushkhabri" aur "Muh meetha karaao" news.Seems the saddle is still there btwn the dulha n the ghodi. :))

And one day it rained..'HARD'

It was "still" raining in chennai,the rain gods were working overtime....i dont know who paid them for slogging those extra hours......

I looked at siby, my room-mate who was solemnly looking outta the window with an expressionless face.

The hiss of the rain and the nippy breeze was all that the windows served us

(and of course those mosquitoes from Transylvania at night ).....


"F#$%$ all the networks in this world....In protocols ki to *&$#$"....

In the three years of engineering we learnt with perfection to start and end a sentence with a *nasty* one and with the relentless End-sem exams going on we learnt to pad our conversations with the essential and nasty headers and footers just as in those shitty network packets......

"hmmmmmm!!!" siby was too lazy to speak words then....

"Where is vaibhav??" i tried to sustain the dialogue...

He pointed to the other room with a roll of his eyeball....
I cud hear the gunshots and occasional *nasty* ones...from the closed room....the computer was heating up..

"Games bond in the making...." i exclaimed with sarcasm..

No answer.... and silence prevailed...

This was a snapshot of our lives...3 of us moved out of the dungeon (college hostel) when we stepped into our third year of engineering.... in search of freedom. And to add some spice to our F***ng lives...

In retrospect i think freedom at some point of our life leads to Boredom.... when you are restricted and in chains most of your time is spent in dreaming about the free life and the spices* attached.....so you never get bored.......

*Fagging,boozing,watching porn....any time of the day

(Our hostel more appropriately was a strict rehab center)

.... Five months have passed since then. When we escaped from the hostel with the hostel pillow and bed sheet...really no guilt whatsoever...rather we were kicking ourselves for not being able to "transport" the mattresses...


"An empty mind is Devil's workshop"...I read out aloud in the morning assembly once when i was in my 5th standard as the "thought of the day".....sandwiched b/w the mandatory 'goodMaurning' and 'thankkyu'....(this para will be used later Read on)

We spent our 1st year learning something with enthu.... and the 2nd year was spent in delearning the shit we stuffed up in our minds....

And so in 3rd year our MIND was EMPTY...(the third keyword is of course DEVIL)....

So in these five months the workshop (devil's) in our brain grew into great factories working full time.... outsourcing devil's work of the hell to our rented flat.

I poked siby in the ribs (behaving as a ZOMBIE) and with a gleam in my eyes pointed towards the cell phone (dead with inactivity)...his eyes lit up...

"SO SHUD WE GO FOR IT!!!!!!!!"

"Yeaahhh baby!!!!"

I grabbed the mobile and keyed the numbers...and in a flash i was connected....I looked at siby while the phone was stuck to my ear. He was beaming with anticipation...then suddenly he raised his eyebrows with a frown on his face...

"SWITCH OVER TO LOUDSPEAKER MODE" this is what he wanted to convey thru his facial antics...which i did promptly.

"You n iiiiiiiiiii..............such a beautiful worlddddddddd......(the hutch song) was being played on the other side" (yes you guessed it right we called the hutch customer care located somewhere in alwarpet..)

Initially (when the full form of SMS was a quiz question for me and recharge was what i thought you did to old batteries) i thought hutch to be a company dealing with sale of super fine breed of dogs...


"WelcometoHutchcareIam 'BALAJI' howmayIassistYou"..answered someone (call center employee) at express speed.....

I gave a quizzed look to siby.... As he picked the 'Keyword' there he shouted.


"BALAJI a male...givvim a *nasty* one"

"#%$#%# Phone rakh saale" i showed my prowess and looked at siby for praise....siby gave a well-done-my-boy nod and announced...."NEXT SESSION"

So this was the idea of calling at customer care centers on boring afternoons and have some fun with the 'FEMALEs' at the customer care...

No surprises any male counterparts (if they come by online) were treated with "utmost respect and were decorated with such great titles"...that they were obliged to hang up....


2nd session:

(Hutch song followed by)


"Hello this is MONICA welcome to Hutch care How may I help you".....the name MONICA seemed to echo in our rented flat...

Vaibhav(who was hitherto fighting it out with dragons and monsters in his game) came out of his room repeating

"MONICA!! MONICA!!...is a gal online"

He sniffed it. i dont know how amidst gunshots and explosions.... After all we were such a desperate pack...



Siby nodded sagely towards vaibhav and gave me a go ahead...

"Hello this is aby(i had to sound a bit high brow) here"


M : "May I know your number please"


"Shhhure here it is nion ayt ayt fo one ayt five zzeroh tyu five (9884185025)"

Vaibhav was giggling seeing at my twisted face as i was uttering those numbers out of sophistication...i gave him a cold stare and whispered slowly a **** and his
Giggling subsided...

"Thanks for calling Aby..So what is your query..?"

"Am...mm........"

i was caught off guard and looked at my friends desperately for help....."DATING" they shouted in unison...

"amm yaa... DATING!! thts what i want ..to ..know about ...DATING!!" i answered catching my breath...

This time she was caught on unfamiliar grounds.....she said after a pause ....

M : "Well all you need to do is..Dial 123 and say DATING and follow the instructions thereafter." she chirped

"Amm..yaa but I’ve tried it many times...it doesn't seem to work for me" I said with contempt. I wouldn’t let go of her so easily..

"In that case sir, register a complaint in the service complains section. Cud you wait for a minute sir. While i transfer your call to that section"

She had a real sweet voice and defn wud be really good looking the fact which we agreed upon unanimously and silently...such perverts we were...


"No No I’ll try once more.....why to bother them. After all customers need to have some patience and faith..isn't it"

(Followed by an artificial hehehehe!!) i tried to break some informal talks in.

M: "Of course sir!! ..So Do you have any further queries SIR"

She said stressing on that 'sir' grinding her teeth. An informal translation of her sentence wud read

"Cut the shit dude...and hang up"

"Yes Yes!!..I want to know about how will I get my date out of thin air”. I tried to sustain the dialogue for the second time in the day..


M : "Sir you'll be asked your age, interests and other minor details and then if we happen to find any opposite sex person having similar interests then both of you'll be informed of each other's existence and whereabouts..."she narrated in a single breath..

"Huh!! Such hue n cry for just a number.... i can get you numbers of dozens of cool chicks in a snap of my finger.... i want the girl not her number" i spoke sarcastically..

Siby n vaibhav were laughing hysterically…they had reason to do so coz i was talking as if i haven't called up a call center but a call girl center...I suspect she heard those laughs.

After a brief pause she said..."OK sir!! If you want what you WANT then do as i say… will you sir??"

"Why not!! Go ahead"

Her tone mellowed mysteriously and she was talking more sweetly than ever...I was skeptical...I sniffed foul play...but succumbed to her sweet chirp..

Then she said "Ok,I will ask you a question. Answer it only when you hear a beep...got it dear"

"yeah!! yeah!!"

"Here’s the question…. What do you want to know more about??"

..Silence........*BEEP*..

"DATING" all three of us shouted in chorus...

A pause.....and thereafter she asked my age and my interests…and said

"CONGRATS!! You r into dating now...I’ll transfer your call to our new section 'the hutch dating girls' can you wait for a while sir.."

"Of course!!" and who wudn't wait for the HUTCH girls...

And the hutch song started playing...."you n iiiiiiiiiii such a beutifulll worlldddd" we were dancing to its tune...

5 minutes passed by...the song was looping with the same lines....

"Yaar its taking way too much time..." i said to siby with a worried look

"Arey yaar!! Don’t be impatient ...its just coz of network congestion" he proclaimed "And congestion is rightly justified for such 'services' ...isn't it??" he winked

"And why do you worry these are all toll free numbers...talk for the full night and not a penny is deducted from your balance…huh!!"

Siby had a point there...so i was content.

Another 5 minutes passed and no sign of the hutchicks (hutch chicks)...

i was getting more n more impatient...

"yaar we'll try it some other time...when the network is free" i said with a frown on my face

"okayhhhh!! As you wish" siby resorted

Just as I hung up a service reply flashed on my cell...

"Thanks for dialing 123 and availing our DATING services. Soon you will receive details of girls/boys bearing similar interests as you have. Your call was charged a mere Rs. 6/min"

After reading this:......

SIBY: "Monica teri M*** %#%#%$, B*****#**&*&"

VAIBHAV: "fifteen into six.... my goodness ninety Rs. got F***d"

MYSELF: motionless...i cud only remember saying to monica these words.......

"No No I’ll try once more.....why to bother them.....After all customers need to have some patience and faith. Isn’t it"

(Followed by an artificial hehehehe!!)

The devil was sniggering in hell.The she-devil

Little johny wants to play...

Rain Rain go away,
you are ‘BAD’ ppl say.


Father says mum’s gone,
seeing our house drown,


I pray she comes back,
when the river changes track,


Hope my books’ll be there,
my crayons n my bk of prayer.


Rain rain go away,
send my mum by the next day….


                                                          -cardamom

  
  dedicated to the children of Baarmed,Rajasthan...

P.S. : I know i suck...just a one off post..bear wid me