ohhk! so this is like after a really long time that i am actually typing it on web. which is not exactly very exciting. but some-what more exciting than typing on WORD or OUTLOOK.
QIoMB is a parameter which stands for Quality Index of My Blogs. Yupp! I am trying to be over-smart. But now i know how to convert Excel Charts to uploadable GIF images. It was too tiring a task and believe me its not worth knowing.
So here i am going to narrate one incidence which i think is very funny. So i first went to Chennai and then decided to take a train from there to bangalore. And I got into the train in a bit of hurry as i boarded onto an almost running train. Anyway, After two three hours of journey or so i was not quite sure if i had got into the correct train. And after a second of panic, i was quite indifferent to the fact that i might as well be heading towards kanyakumari. The feeling was evolutionary. People who have been on drugs must know what i am talking abt.
okk! i have run out of ideas now. i am trying hard to resist the temptation of writing about love. I sud write about movies. Okk. PIX and ZEE Studio are too good movie channels to be compared to HBO or Star Movies. I have seen some quite unheard
classic movies lately. Random movies are my sort of thing. Last night i watched 'Mad Dog and Glory'. Few days back I had seen 'Love and Pain and Those Damned Things'. Then 'A Good Woman'. And then i have already talked about 'A lot like love'.
Okk! I think this post must end here. Without me trying extra-hard to make it sound extra-funny. So sometimes you come to know some of your strong points and you feel good. But then again you think for two more minutes and you realise that what you thot was your strong point is infact one of your weekest point. So how is that relevant to this post?? Well I really want to tell it, but two more minutes of thinking has led me to believe that two more minutes of thinking is absolutely necessary to make sure that what i was thinking a week point of my character is indeed a weak point. You dont expect me to tell you what i had in mind after two minutes right??
okk! ohhk! whokay! soke!
okk! now that I have got so many fan mails insisting that I should blog immediately or be ready to read news papers full of attempted suicide cases, I am gonna blog alright. But I am really disappointed. For I had waited long enough to hear at least one or two cases where some crazy girl had slit her wrist in order to make me blog. I know I deserved such sacrifices. Never mind anyway.
I had so many incidences to have my readers rolling over floor for all day long. But as always is the case I don’t want to recount them. But I don’t always do thing that I don’t want to do. So I ll recount them alright. So I had been gone to my home for this Christmas. Well, not exactly Christmas as I celebrated it on two or three trains during my return journey. kool. So, I think I am quite indifferent to traveling in trains in a pleasant way. Confusing huh?! As in I don’t know whether I enjoy my journeys in train but I know for sure that I don’t hate traveling in trains. Well, at least as long as ticket is confirmed! So I had to change my train at Nagpur. Nothing new, I know. And I had a side lower seat reserved to me. And I had this gut feeling that a girl is going to sit next to me. So well, I was not quite surprised when I found one. I also have this gut feeling that I will meet the girl of my dreams in a train – one of the reasons that I always choose a side berth for reservation. Pretty genius. I know. Anyway. Ohh. So to impress the girl, I immediately pulled out the novel that I had bought in Nagpur station. ‘The Firm’ by John Grisham. Now who girl wont be impressed by a guy who reads John Grisham. And to top it all ‘The Firm.’ Now when I had gone to buy the book I saw all these comics, Raj comics at that. And particularly Nagraj. Anyway, I have lately discovered that I don’t posses the same passion for comics anymore. I distinctly remember my eventful childhood where I would cry one hour a day to convince my parents that they should buy me Nagraj comics,. They refused comfortably. But each time I would remind my self that one day I would be earning and then I would invest half my money in buying comics. well the first month’s salary could all be dedicated to buying comics! Okk! Cut the crap. Then I thought about buying ‘Champak’. Well I liked it for sure. And plus it was worth Rs. 10. Only too suitable for an underpaid analyst. But ‘nahi’, I said to myself and I bought ‘The Firm.’ Well, I tried to justify my self that it would help me in atleast evading tax even if I don’t get any girl in train to show it off. Anyway, a girl was indeed there. Well to be honest, in trains best thing to ensure that you attract attention of pretty girls is to casually drop the fact that you are from one of the IITs. And the best thing to do that is to have a book from IIT library. Well, I never used it but some of my friends have. Successfully! That’s a different story. So where were we?
‘O Maa Gawd!! Is that ‘The Firm’? She screamed at the top of her voice. I smiled.
‘That’s my favourite book. I wud do anything if you promise to let me read this.’
‘Well, I haven’t completed it.’
‘Well, we cud read it together.’
okk! Jyada ho gaya! Life mein itne jaada coincidences ho rahe hain lately that now I have begun to doubt the ‘There are no coincidences. Only illusion of it.’, even when it was delivered by revolutionary V in V for Vendetta. So as we talked along I came to know that even that girl works in Bangalore and as she could not get a confirmed seat in a direct train to Bangalore, had decided to go there via Chennai, exactly as I had done. Could you believe that?! Even I couldn’t. And even today when I woke up I could not believe that it had happened. But then I called her up and talked to her. Well I will fix a date tomorrow.
Hehe! What wicked mind I have got! The shy and sarif bachcha that I am, you sud know ki anjaan ladkiyon se baat karna hamaari shaan ke khilaf hai. But I was looking forward to a pleasant journey ki chalo koi ladki toh hai bagal mein. But bedard bhawaan ko woh bhi manjoor nahi tha and after 5 minutes I had boarded the train, one gentleman who was really a bastard came to me and said ki he had to accommodate some of his family members and if I cud switch seats with them, it would be very nice of me. And well, the urge to show the world (and specially to the girl next seat) that no one cud ever be more nice than I am, I shifted to some other side lower seat (yeah! even it was a side lower seat!) with random uncles next to me asking me my qualification and assuming that I work in a BPO.
Anyway, I got some relief finally when I thot that the girl must be disappointed that I had to leave that seat. And now I am hoping that she will read this blog and finally impressed with my ‘studdness’ fall in love with me. Ah, Mungeri Lal ke hasin sapne.
but seriously. what’s wrong with??! As one of my friends told me ki yeh lakiyon ke barae mein hee blog kyun likh raha hun main. I have no idea dost! Pyar ho gaya hai lagta hai mujhe.
Anyway, I finally managed to complete ‘Of Human Bondage’ by Somerset Maugham. The story in middle is quite captivating. It was sickening. You feel disgusted at love and happy at still being single.
Tumhe apna saathi banane se pahle meri jaan mujhko bahut sochna hai
kahan se main laaunga resham ki sari
yeh bangala yeh gadi nahi le sakunga
mera dil hee meri milkiyat hai
jo chaho toh main bus yahi de sakunga
magar dil ki dhadkan sunane se pahle
meri jaan mujhko bahut sochana hai
yeh ranginiyan, raahatein zindagi ki bahut kuch tumhe hans ke khona padega
kabhi meri gurbat ne aanshun diye toh tumhe bhi mere saath rona padega
magar saath tumko rulaane se pahle meri jaan mujhko bahut sochna hai.
main darta hun uss din ki rushwayion se, apni mohabbat pe duniya hanse naa.
mohabbat ka naa ho naam badnaam hamse, zamane kahin hampe taane kase naa
sitaron ki mahfil sajaane se pahle meri jaan mujhko bahut sochna hai
(Padmini kolhapure !)
muhhabbat zinhe ho gayee ho kisi se, mohhabbat ka anzam kab sochtein hain
yeh aisha suhana safar hai ki jisme, hazaaron hain naakam kab sochte hain
chirage wafa apni aankhon mein leke, mohhabbat ki raahon mein joh chla pade hain
bayaanba mein hogi ya seharaa mein hogi, kahan hogi ab saam kab sochte hain
Mohhabbat ke maaron ko ab aur yeh dil, satayengi kya takhtiya zindagi ki
zinhe thak ke neend aa gayee pathron par woh duniya ka aaraam kab sochte hain
yeh insaan kya hai khuda ke bhi aage kabhi pyar duniya mein jhukta nahi hai
mohhabbat hi jinka khuda ban gayee ho kabhi kisi ka naam kab sochte hain
pyar jhukta nahi hai
you can listen to it here and search for ‘Pyar Jhukta Nahin’ .
sat (12/15/2007 10:53:41 AM): ohhk you look stunning in black!
Katie ------------------------------ (12/15/2007 10:53:59 AM): thanks... lol
Some high quality ‘fart’ follows!
Katie ------------------------------ (12/15/2007 11:01:06 AM): brb... gonna get some water.
sat (12/15/2007 11:01:09 AM): okk
Katie ------------------------------ (12/15/2007 11:06:41 AM): kk, switched to pjs, lol
sat (12/15/2007 11:06:53 AM): ohhk
sat (12/15/2007 11:06:54 AM): kool
sat (12/15/2007 11:07:05 AM): kool
sat (12/15/2007 11:07:16 AM): you look even more stunning in your PJs
sat (12/15/2007 11:07:31 AM): i wonder how you might look with nothing on!
sat (12/15/2007 11:07:41 AM): aah!
sat (12/15/2007 11:07:54 AM): i am great with pjs too!
Katie ------------------------------ (12/15/2007 11:08:06 AM): ok... blushing sucks!
Some backdrop! Katie is a girl. A kid infact. 15 years old. lives in US. Her IQ is around 170-180 and I have reasons to believe that she was not lying when she told me so. I have no idea how she got added to my friends’ list. But she has been there for more than a year now. Well, I do remember going to ‘California’ and such chat-rooms in search of horny gals. I had tried my luck in ‘indian’ chat-rooms as well but after getting many a times surprised (Shocked!) after finding out that ‘Cool_girl_from_india’ was infact a boy, I gave up my fight there and that was when I had headed to foreign land. I was an instant hit there. But that’s a different story.
So by now you are in all probability thinking that I am a pedophile and should be shot down immediately. But I don’t want to sound self-indulged but I am as sarif as anyone can get. When I was at skool I never looked at gals because, well, I thought that they were senior to me. ( I studied at an all boys school but on my way to my school I could have seen a lot of ‘hariyali’ in those saffron salwar suits only if I had used the god-given gift of eyes more efficiently! Those salwar suits invariably made me feel like a kid in front of those smart studious and senior gals!) And when I was done with my school I saw every school going girl as a kid. Well now what?? Here should be a sentence that wud imply that the above trait of mine proves that I am a sarif and stupid boy. Yess! So while some things change, somethings don’t.
okk. Back to the pointless point. By the way (and not ‘by the way,’) this conversation has taken place you should be able to infer that the girl has got a webcam. and today I talked to her after a long time. And the funny-man that I am, I cracked my trade-mark jokes. ‘pjs’ here refer to pajamas that she changed to before going to bed. Anyway cut the crap. when she said that ‘blushing sucks!’ she was actually blushing. And I don’t remember I have seen anyone blush before. And well she looked adorable. Now here sud come a line which wud prove that her blushing has not turned me into a pedophile. Crap, I don’t want to prove nothing.
‘Okk!’ I asked Pondy, ‘Padaa?’ (Did u read it?)
‘Abe bahut ganda tha yaar. Beech mein hee give-up ho
And I laughed as never before. He sure is funny. And that was how our engagement was called off.
‘The original idea was to just have ‘her’ and ‘him’ in the story. Yaa, story! I know you are already thinking about running as never before unless you reach somewhere where you don’t even stand a chance of coming back to this place.’
‘So now you would pretend that you even know your readers?’ You are smart. I wouldn’t even dare to write you as anything but smart.
‘But I deserve a chance!’ I want to look pathetic. I want to invoke sympathy.
‘You deserve a bullet in you shitty head. Damn you *beep*! We already have so many story tellers!’ You haven’t read any of them in past. And you don’t want to read any of them in future. ‘And did u just BEEP me??’
‘Sorry for that. Rule number 555. You can’t use any names in my story?’
‘Pondy?? Wasn’t that supposed to be a name?’
‘Well. Pondy and you are almost blood-related. Well if you are not ‘He’ or ‘she’ and I want to talk about you while I am talking to someone else (who is ‘You’ at that point in time, by the way) about you, I would be using the word ‘Pondy’. In that sense Pondy is almost a pronoun now.’
‘You are abusing freedom of expression. You are a goddam loser. Why are you trying this hard to prove that you are right and all others are wrong?? Why have you made this an ego issue? Why don’t you just live people alone and suffer in normal way?? Must you try separately to make their lives more miserable?? Why don’t you just give up? Why do you want me to kill you? ’
‘Have you ever said anything this nasty to anyone? Imagine how good it would be for you to use all those expletives that you learnt from urban dictionaries but never used without getting them hurled back to you! I would be your punching bag. You could do anything that you want with me. All I demand is your five minutes.’
‘You think you are oversmart. All this while you are putting words in my mouth and you want me to believe that I am the boss????!’
‘Well. I have told you that I would write you nothing else but smart. You totally got me there!’ I flashed my teeth.
‘Ok. I have got nothing to do with you and your lousy love story. Do whatever you want to but don’t expect comments from me.’
‘Well I thought that you could comment..’
‘haha! You would have to do more than writing a post on me to make me comment in this filthy place. Market mein ijjat hai apni!’
‘Well then what do you expect me to do then? To make you comment on this post?’
‘Let me see. I would be generous to you. We go back a long back. So prove me wrong. Prove that you have got it. I know you would fail but I would give you a chance for old time’s sake.’
‘Okk. If it was not an ego thing before it has become one now for sure. You are going to regret it for sure. I mean if I prove my mettle I have won it outright but even if I keep writing crap posts, once in while you will have to come here and read a post to check if I have written something grand. It would make me extremely happy to see you suffer. Haha!’
‘I read the first part of your supposedly great love story.’ She looked like an angel who had just decided to play demon.
‘Did you like it?’
‘Not quite.’ She answered. Briskly.
‘Because your posts suck in general and if I had to choose one soul to write love stories, you would be last person that I would go to.’ She was expressionless.
‘You know I am not quite good at taking criticism.’
‘Wake up boy! You think you are ‘author enough’ to invoke criticism??!’ She was rude downright.
‘You definitely have a point.’ I said.
‘You seem quite unhappy the way I have portrayed you. Is that the reason you are so upset?’ I knew I was correct but I asked anyway.
‘Yes. I thought I deserved a better and a bigger introduction in your first post.’
‘And I thought women loved being mysterious! I could have definitely written more on you but given the fact that I suck in general when it comes to writing characters and specifically female characters I decided to be as succinct as possible.’ I knew I had a point.
‘That is one lousy excuse! How do you propose to write me if you don’t even know me??’ She also had a point.
‘Ok. The first way of putting forward my case was not the best one I guess. I always thought that honesty was what every one and specifically the female gender wanted. Gotta work on that now.’ I confessed.
‘So forget what I said before. The only reason that I was so reserved about your character was my genuine intention of making your character ambiguous and mysterious and not because I thought that I was not up to the task.’ I finished it as quickly as possible.
‘Comehhon! Be a man! Stick to what you said before.’ She did not trust me with anything. No wonder she was perplexed that I was writing a story on her life.
‘Ok! But wouldn’t that create a vicious cycle now. I don’t want to be remembered as a man who couldn’t stick to any thing at all. So I am sticking to my second case. And I thought it was not about proving that I am a man anyway. It was about convincing you that you were in safe hands. So iterating what I had said before, your character will be well-explored eventually. People will fall in love with your character babe!’ I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince her. I knew so much about her.
‘You know you have lost your credibility.’ She seemed indifferent.
‘They always say that once you lose your credibility, it’s impossible to reclaim again. I have found it interesting to do what they say is impossible. Yeah, that’s my mission. To regain my credibility.’ I was almost lyrical.
‘”They”??? Who are “They” anyway?? Don’t tell me you are gonna introduce “Them” also after introducing yourself as “I”?! People are already bored to death with “He” and “She” shit. Why don’t you just name us? That would make even your life easier. You surely don’t want to use fucking *beep* when I call him by his name, right?’ She was lyrical too.
‘Why??! What’s wrong in using pronouns in place of names? Firstly, you don’t have to worry about the pain that u must get into when you start searching for names of protagonists. And secondly, anyone could be “He” or “She”. Saurabh, Vijyendra, Manendra, Javend, Akash, Shobhit, Manish, Abhishek. “He” could be anyone and everyone. Doesn’t the success of a story depend on the number of people that see themselves as characters of that story?’ I was at my best.
‘I thought you were gonna write-down names for “She” too! Havent got any girl-friennds. Have ya?’ She was at her best too.
‘Ohh! I have. So many of them. I just don’t want them to know each other’s name!’ I lie at random hours. The only question was whether it was indeed a random hour.
‘So are you gonna continue writing me? She inquired. She wanted to talk about the story and it made me happy.
‘Yess! I think so. Rather I hope so.’
‘Are you gonna make me fall in love with him? Or is it gonna be you? Holy cow! The ‘Virgin Mary’ that you talked about in last post who could have got the chance of screwing the heroine of greatest-love-story-ever-told was not you, right??! Don’t do that! I would rather die first, you know!’
‘You know, you should help me write this story. This could be the single most important turn in the whole schema of this love story.’
Ohhk! Heres the much-awaited post! :D Is it like first time that I have used a smiley in my post?? Anyway, I have no idea when this series of posts (dealing with the love story of this century of course) will come to an end. Or more importantly if the story really has an end. Well the whole idea is to write some posts on this crap story and then spend rest of life analyzing them. At least, may be then I would be more into thematic posts.
‘Are you sure?’ He wanted to look sincere.
‘Yes I am.’ She looked determined.
‘Are you sure that u surely want to do it?’ He pressed. Of course he didn’t want to be blamed later for forcing her to do it.
‘Goddamm *beep*! Do u want it in writing?’ She literally screamed the shit out of him.
‘Ok. I have got just the thing. Remember these are not 100% safe.’ He gave her something.
‘Yeah, I have seen that episode in friends!’
‘Do u want to take some pills?’ He was breathing hard.
‘You know *beep* if ours was a story that was being written by a lousy novelist or scriptwriter, it would be effing clear to junta that he is trying to create humor in the same old predictable way and at the end of the shot; if it was indeed a movie, it was the end-sems that we were actually discussing and the pills that u talked about were some dimag-badaane-wala-capsule and this thing that you just gave me were papers being used for cheating.' She flashed that something.
‘So you think that only men suck at writing scripts!’ He had noticed.
‘Are there any women in film industry?’ She was almost provoked.
‘Ok. Watever. Just don’t get pregnant.’ He stepped back.
‘I will try.’ She smiled.
‘What did you find in that loser anyway?’ He demanded.
‘For starters, he is still a virgin.’ She chuckled.
‘Whatttttt! I am a virgin too!’ he cried.
‘Okk! Nevermind. I can find better girls.’
‘I knew it’d work. It always does.’
Mondays suck! I don’t feel like working today. I don’t feel like working any day but that is not the point here. Well I never have a point anyway but again that’s not the point.
Another kick-ass start of my post. Sometimes I wonder why I try so hard to be funny when I know that I don’t have to. Anyway, the writing love-stories thing is very idiotic and as I read it again I laugh. And I laugh because I know that I have tried real hard to look sophisticated. And its not like I don’t try to look sophisticated in my other posts. I try it every where but this was the post that made me realize it and I am not sure I wanted to realize this fact. Ignorance. Shey. So it will take me another insipidity-attack (I love this word!) to continue the story. And if there wud be anytime that I wud write the sequel to the boring love-story, this is it. I am gonna write it right here, right now.
‘Have you watched “A lot like love”?’ She asked.
‘Yess! I did. Yesterday, it came on Zee Studio, right.’
‘Sahin movie thi yaar.’
‘Exactly. One of those movie that you have never heard of and suddenly you watch them and you feel that you never really loved any movie more.’ He delivered the much –practiced dialogue.
She agreed completely.
‘That is how it should be, right? I mean love at late 20s or early 30s makes so much more sense. You are mature, you are desperate..and you still act like you don’t care whether you fall in love or not.’ She concluded.
‘Yup. And you are cool for sure. I mean you stop pretending that you are in love with someone to get laid. Because you have already given up on love and have already become intelligent enough to be able to get laid without convincing the other that you love her.’
‘Or him.’ She concluded again. She continued now.
‘Yup. But the movie was not about this, right? I mean the couple here knew that they clicked. And neither of them actually gave up on love. They were not sure if they really loved each other though.’ She finished, confused about what she had said.
‘So which character did you like the most?’ He asked.
‘Oliver’s brother. Oliver’s deaf brother. I always love these secondary characters. I am sure if there was a movie which centered around Oliver’s brother’s story, every girl will fall in love with that boy.’ She was happy that she had finally got to say what she always wanted to but never had a chance to express it. She thanked him with her eyes and he acknowledged it too.
‘That’s a pretty good observation.’ He acknowledged.
‘You know that character in Anand. Rajesh Khanna ki munhboli bahan. She is my alltime favourite character. You remember that the guy she was married to in the movie, she was actually married to him in real life.’ She was evidently happy.
‘Ah! Waisi he eek biwi chahiye yaar! Par agar biwi doctor huyee toh aur achchha hoga. Kitna kharchaa bach jaayega. Plus we wudnt have to pay someone else for the fake bills that we need to get the claim our Medical Reimbursement.’ He knew he was definitely funny.
‘he.he’ She laughed. Now was the time to return the favor and laugh at the jokes that were clearly not funny.
‘So what else sud be she to qualify as your wife?’ She asked.
‘She sud absolutely love movies. I mean I would like to spend half the time we spent together watching and rewatching movies. Kitni sari achchhi movies hain yaar dekhne ko!’ He was excited now.
She gathered that she could watch movies. ‘It would be fun watching movies with him,’ she gathered again.
‘Well, its not a pre-requisite though. Even if she is not a big movie buff, I would make her one. Agar woh dekhne se inkaar karegi toh I will refuse to do the pole-dancing.’ He wondered if he was trying hard to be funny.
‘Yeah. that wud work for sure!’
‘OR.. I would make her watch Before Sunrise. That would work for sure.’ He was never short of ideas, indeed.
And now I gotta take a piss. And go home.
You know the guy who can pick up any girl? I'm him. On crack.
Ok. The human need to be praised is at work again. And while writing a blog is perhaps too great a price to pay for this, I would do it anyway. So what is it that I am gonna write now?
I will write a love story. In fact mother of all love stories. A story where participants will defy every behavioral pattern that they are expected to follow.
She was the girl. She was ambitious. She was strong. She had the capability of being rationale and romantic at the same time. He was shy. Almost always self-conscious. He thought that he was intelligent and could deliver the nicest lines if situation demanded it. He believed in being compatible. Compatibility almost being synonymous to making compromises. The idea of love was too ambiguous to him. And more he read about it, more he saw it on television and movies more he got convinced that it was overrated. But as everyone is, even he was unsure if his longing for ‘love’ love was one of the reasons that he refused to believe its existence. He was not sure what he wanted. But he was sure that he wanted it real bad.
They were friends. As they always are. The girl always motivated him. She wanted him to succeed. He knew that she meant well but at times he wondered if there was nothing else to talk between them but career. Life was routine. It went on. On. And on. And He thought. While he knew that the girl was quite intelligent he was not sure whether she would be as intelligent as him to be able to comprehend the ‘love’ love that he was capable to be in with any girl. More he thought about it more he was pleased with himself. After going through a bunch of ‘Traits: In my perfect match’ of a bunch of people in Orkut and laughing at their stupidity for quite some time he came to the conclusion that there existed no criteria for love but one. The girl must be able to surprise him. He thought about writing a book where his perfect girl will star and how he would change the way world expected their ‘perfects’ to be. But then he thought that he lacked the experience and hence the ‘intimate incidences’ that make readers go ‘Awww.’ He could count the girls that he knew and hence the potential love-interests on his fingertips. One. Two. Three. Four. Two of them had already said ‘Bhaiyya’ in a very casual way, but he counted them anyway.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ She asked.
‘No. I don’t.’ he answered trying to be as confident as he always was.
‘Why?’ She believed in going to depth of matters which he almost always found very annoying.
‘Because then you will be confusing infatuation with love. Wont you?’ He was pleased with himself. But then simultaneously too aware that she knew that he was too pleased with himself, he tried to maintain a grave look. He broke the silence.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’
‘I don’t know!’ she said looking at the sky. And then at a young couple sitting right next to them. He knew that she wanted to fall in love as much as he did.
This ‘I don’t know!’ had made the already bitter black coffee that he had ordered almost undrinkable. This girl confused him. And he had always admired her for that. He had thought that the girl wanted an ‘objective’ discussion on love and particularly ‘love at first sight’ when she first started talking about it. And now she had chosen to suddenly end the conversation with an ‘I don’t know!’ It was insulting to his non-existing ego. He could be as intriguing as her and if given the chance he would have chosen a different path altogether.
Suddenly time seemed to move backward. The waiter brought the black coffee and chilled ice tea. He looked at her. She was beautiful. But now he was prepared.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ She asked.
‘Before going into this question, I think we ought to address a more important question; which is “do I believe in love to begin with?”’ He sipped from his cup.
‘Do you believe in love?’ She was slightly easy on him, he realized.
‘Yes!’ He answered although he was not sure whether she or he, himself believed it.
‘What is love?’
‘Love is like Pi often approximated to 22/7 or 3.14. Natural, irrational and very important.’ And he laughed.
‘Can’t you be serious for a minute?’ She frowned.
And the Black Coffee was once again undrinkable.
SO meri dukhon se trast (as in My life full of sorrow) zindagi mein khusi ki bahaar. Okk. ___ for this dramatic opening. okk, I wud have used the word ‘__’ instead of ‘blank’ if not for my enormous liking for freaky tricks that digress readers from the emptiness of the content. Uhh. I am gud. Anyway. I just checked the list of keywords that jobless dudes use when they get access to google and while one such word was ‘gay boys wanting gay boys for friendship in bangalore’ the other word was ‘the funniest Bangalore blogs ever’. And as ‘we’ feel proud abt the fact that we have mastered the art of ‘googling’ when we spent two third of our college life in our room with the computer, it was only too sensible for me to go and google for given words. While I was not able to find my blog when I used the first keyword, (how disappointing!) I was just too happy to find that my blog was the first entry when I searched for the second word. (To bhagwaan, with both hands and one head making 75 degrees angle with horizon..) "I did name the blog ‘the greatest blog ever’, but I was just kidding man. I really didn’t know tht it was actually the funniest blog in whole Banagalore." Sorry rahega gazal mam. Google bhagwaan ki marzi ke samne hum aam insaano ki kahan chali hai??!!
Anyway, I wud have loved to write things here but given the fact that people I want to write abt, read my blogs, I can only praise them. And while a lot of fun will be missing from the blog as I think I wud do a lot better when it comes to making fun of the anonymous ‘donst’ and his babes and his extra-ordinary ability to spread NEWS around with speed of sound(yaa, we talk on phone, and for the sake of sounding Elbert Einstein I will presume that signals are passed thru the wire with the speed of sound in the metal used to make wires, and not the speed of electricity or electromagnetic waves or wateva! I never did good in any of my physics courses anyway.!), and particularly the news of one of my friends being found in bathroom of his hostel with a girl and the ‘jealous’ ‘us’ trying to cloak our feeling of being ‘in-general-losers-while-he-gets-a-girl-in-bathroom’ by the feeling of morality and all that crap. Boy, I cud write so much abt him! Its only a disappointment that he reads my blog and so all I can do here is praise him and not make fun of him. Shey! Okk the use of word ‘while’ in the beginning of the third line of this paragraph signifies that I had something contrasting-to-what-i-had-just-said in my mind (why did I use hyphens???? I have no idea!). Okk. so I think u got my point. And the point is that even if I praise some of them it might look ‘insincere’. okk I don’t know what to write now.
‘Courage’ is an awfully fascinating word. I always think ki how it must feel to be truly courageous. ORR even courageous. Because I know I am not. Okk. I am not writing abt sword-fighting here. (as if I am great with sword-fighting!! Janta..Hanso!)
What else. Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.
Well I have always written for the sake of it. At least that is what I would like my excuse for abusing blogging to be. And there had been days when I had absolutely nothing to write about but still I managed it somehow. Today is one of such days. Not exactly. I have a lot of things to share to my loyal readers. Quite interesting things, in fact. But as often is the case, there is little room for creativity if the subject matter itself is interesting. You can make mountain of a molehill and feel good about it. You already have a mountain and you don’t know what to do with it. What a lousy excuse! Anyway, trivial things are indeed important.
Well here is an incident. Trivial indeed, as it keeps happening to me every other day. We don’t have that many trains between here - okk, Bangalore! I don’t want people to know that I live in Bangalore. I don’t want my andhavishwasi (the use of Hindi is not because it adds to the creativity, believe me!) fans to search each and every mandir in search of their favourite bhagwaan in Bangalore - and my hometown. Okk I am bored. I am so bored that I don’t even want to delete whatever I have written earlier as a rare demonstration of extreme human perseverance. Kahani sunaane ka waqt nahi hai. The thing is that I missed my train at Nagpur. And so did a girl. And I thought that ‘Jab We Met’ could have had an alternate beginning. Anyway, so our journey began. We took a train that wud drop us somewhere in Chennai and from there we will get a bus or another train for Bangalore. Nice naa! Now here if I was at best of my moods I would have narrated a story full of interesting twists and turns with the girl finally falling in love with me and singing ‘kuch toh hua hai kuch ho gaya hai’ after finally reaching her place here in Bangalore, only to disappoint all of ya at the end of the post and laughing that nothing of this sort actually happened. But the mere existence of the previous statement implies that I am not in the best of my moods and I am not going to waste ink writing things that you know can never occur. So where was I?? AAh so we arrived at two in the early morning and Bangalore being not so safe a place to hire autos at that time I went with her to drop her at her PG accommodation. WOW! Anyway. I thot she wud at least call me to inquire whether I reached my home safely. But she did not. (Well I was about to write that implication-of-existence-of-previous-statement crap all over again but I didn’t. Say thanks!)
bahut bore kar diya yaar. sorry rahega. aah here is a tip for the aspiring flirts though, from our very own karan Johar. You should not use cheesy-pick-up-lines at the beginning of a conversation when you approach a girl the first time. You must always use them just before ending the conversation in a subtle way. As in, you go to the girl and discuss global warming for whole 10 minutes and then just before leaving her, casually say, ‘I lost my teddy bear, will u sleep with me?’ See, before the crowd has gathered to beat u up, u have already fled from the place. Greaaat! Well the exmple part was entirely invented by great meeh and you cud start admiring the genius in me on the count of three. 1..2..3. There I go.
kya likhun?? i am definitely bored. and not at the best of my moods. so dont expect too much from this post. infact, expect nothing from this post. i am feeling sleepy. i will sleep. i dont know what to write. i am a rockstar. am i dreaming already. where am i. who am i. don. why am i not using any question marks. anyway. subway. halfway. bank jaana tha yaar mujhe. main bank gaya bhi tha. par bank band (BAND. SAND. AND) tha. uff. yeh kaisi uljhan hai. pondy dekhe ek jamaana ho gayaa yaar. pondy. mere dost. duniya matlab (MATLAB. MATHTYPE. SAS. why am i not using any commas.) ki hai. h7 wale pondy. mere dost. teri muskaan dekhne ko main taras gaya hun. ek dialogue maarne ka mann kar raha hai. i didnt invent the rainy season. its just that i own the best umbrella. teen din se main apna chhata laanaa bhi bhool jata hun. mujhe kya ho gaya hai. kya yeh ek sapna hai. sapna kya kisi ladki ka naam hai. kya computer-clock band ho gaya hai. samay beet kyun nahi raha hai. aaj shanivaar hai. chuhe ko bukhaar hai. aur kya likhun. a=b. b=c. c=d. d=e. e=f. f=g. where a. b. c. d. and e are complex numbar. ab isse jyada funny main aur nahi ho sakta. ek ek sentence likhne mein mujhe ek-ek ghanta lag raha hai. phone kyun nahi aa raha hai. kya is post ko main post karunga. ab aur kitni gandagi machaunga main. ek theory hai. life ke baare mein. par batane ka mann nahi kar raha hai. if this post is not making any sense to you then you need to take long pauses at every period. this post is genious. main aur meri tanhai. kya tanhai bhi ladki ka naam hai. main yeh post kyun likh raha hun. mujhe hee phone karna padega lagta hai. main ab number dial karne wala hun. koi phone utha kyun nahi raha hai. kya is baar bhi mera chutiya katne wala hai. mujhe khud hee shop jaana padega lagta hai. kya yeh mere perseverance ki test hai.
This is the perfect time to write a blog. Well not perfect ‘perfect’ exactly. A perfect instance of perfect ‘perfect’ time wud be the night when I had to submit my BTP project and instead I enjoyed writing a blog. Partly becus of defiance, but mostly because of frustration. This comes close to being a perfect time as I have no idea what I am going to write about. Well, I have become quite predictable lately and if you have any sixth sense you will know that I am going to talk about my blog. Isn’t it just ingenious? Writing blogs on blogs! I had something else to say too but I forgot. And it was quite amusing. I am sorry that you wont get to hear a really amusing story though.
okk! gud news. here I have got a topic finally. you know what I am listening to right now. ‘Husn hazir hai muhabbat ki sazaa pane ko, koi patthar se na maaro mere diwano ko!’ hehe! Okay, I am not laughing just becus the lyrics is very funny. Its also because I have watched this movie. Laila Majnu. Rishi Kapoor. Ranjeeta. hehe! And its not funny just because this movie is funny, its funny becus it brings back the sweet memory of my geeky childhood.
So as all less privileged kids must see, even we saw only Doordarshan in our childhood. We bole toh main, mera bhai, meri bahne. And my brother was a huge movie buff. He would go to small, crowded, disgusting, paan-masaale kee thook se bharpoor movie theatres at odd hours to watch movies. And given that our parents did not approve of our watching movies in ‘videos’ as they are called in our little sweet gaon, he had to search for excuses for being away from house for like three hours. So he wud took me with him. And we wud pretend that we were just playing in the corner of the street. hehe!! Paap Ki Duniya. Was the first movie that I watched in a video. HEHEHHE! And of course I liked it. In fact, I loved it. Sunny Dewal. (Yaa, he used to be Dewal back then!) Chunky Pan-de. Danny. Maar-dhaad se bharpoor. I wish I cud watch any movie in the same spirit again! Where you believe everything and anything. When you believe and feel proud kee ‘Sunny paji ke rahte tak hamaare desh ko koi khatra nahi hai!’ When you look forward to beating up a bunch of gundas to impress the girl of your dream and the next instant you realize that you wud never get any girl. When Mithun cut was the most favourite hair-cut for everyone. Or at least that is what I thot. And sulked at the thot of getting the ‘munda’(as in bald!) cut again the next time my dad took me to a salon. Shehanshah! I hope kee I wud be forgiven the sin of misspelling this name if thts the case. Agle dus din tak toh Shehanshah banke hee ghoome the hum! (As one of my roomies aptly said once!) I wud ask my friends (so naïve they were! they hadn’t even seen Shehanshah!) to ask me who I was, so that I cud tell them ‘Rishtey mein toh hum tumhare baap hote hain! Naam hai shehanshah! (Shehanshah!Shehanshah!)’ last two Shehanshahs were echos that are so obviously the case when a hero speaks. Mar Mitenge! Another gem of a pikchar. Mithun Chakravarti. Jeetendra. And a bunch of villains! I distinctly remember one scene where the gud guys ( led by Jeetendra of course sans Mithun) play football with the bad guys. And the bad guys do something to the football as in they play with a football made of iron or something so that if anyone hits the ball with his feet, his balls will scream! okk, a distinct ignorance for humorous humor is contrastingly visible wen I try to crack jokes! anyway, so the villains might have worn Steel shoes or something as I dint see anything happening to them. So obviously gud guys where getting their asses kicked as never before. the defeat seemed inevitable. but wait a sec! there came my hero! mithun. with ordinary shoes. and he was as efficient with his feet as sunny paaji is with his hand. Phir to it was just a matter of time before the bad guys get their asses kicked by football, Literally. (Steel ke joote toh pahan liye!who had thot that they wud need an ass-saving-devise as well!) Talking of sunny paaji, I was seeing this movie, most probably “Hero-The Love Story of A Spy!’ where I saw Sunny ji wielding a gun and running after aatankwadi. And I was like.. Sunny ji ko gun ki kya jaroorat hai. Very Funny! Indeed.
Anyway, I was talking about Laila Majnu. We went to an aunty’s house to watch this movie. And I was bored to death. I mean no maar-dhaad in a sunny-paji-way at all. Uper se rona dhona. But this was a flick. Coming on disk! (as we called the Cable connection, and still do!) So we had to watch it. And we watched it. We waited for rishi kapoor to die early. We just wanted him to show us a glimpse of the real hero that goes and gets the villain and his troops in a single blow. We were disappointed. Don’t doubt the concept of ‘Watching everything on TV whatever it may be!’. Krishi Darshan and That Concert about Classical Music (In English! :O) which used to come at around 8 on Saturday or Sunday nights??? We used to watch them too. I struggled and tried a lot to watch those damn cool serials which used to come at 9 in night, Reporter, Tahqiqat, Ek se Badhke Ek, wagairah, wagairah! But I wud never make it till 9. I wud invariably fall asleep between 8:30 and 9, wen they showed Hindi mein samachar then englsih mein news aur lak sabha tatha rajya sabha samaachar.
Time for a sutta break!
This post is special. Life is a sinusoidal curve. So they say. Those who are lucky will find the truth of this statement in others' lives. SOme unfortunate lot, like me, will get to learn it hard way. So, I remember, I was happy. Just this morning. I had got a call from my brother. Then I talked to a friend for another two minutes. Then I marched , my head held high, towards the office. Then I stopped. At Adigas. To have my daily dose of idli. Idali. eeeeeeeeee..ddddddddddd..lee. LEE se ek baat yaad aayee yaar. One of my friends has got the last name Gawali. So he will introduce himself as 'Jet Li.Bruce Li. Gawali.' Gowdness increasing as you go from left to right. A real studd. If u read his testimonial on orkut (written by another Gowd, btw) you wont be able to stop admiring this lots. I wud have copy pasted the testimonial if orkut was not blocked here. anyway, it went like that.
Godfather (Gawali, the Gawdest God in all the 'Li's is also know as Godfather! A big and rumored story behind that!) ko toh aishi ladki chahiye jinhe yeh ek kheech kar tamaacha maarein toh woh Godfather ko usse bhi jyada kheechkar ek tamaacha maare, taki GOdfather ko teesri baar tamaacha maarne ka mazaa aa sake.
Talking of 'Lee's, I wud also like to add one of the many incidents that so frequently occur in the houses of gawds. we were watching 20/20 world cup semifinal. India vs Australia. or was it the match after the one-day series, played at mumbai?? Anyway, dash that. So indians were doing quite gud. and in commentary box we had legendary Arun. Unhone kaha, and I quote, "Australia kee bowling utni kharab nahi hai. par jab yuvraj(or watever) bat kar rahe hon toh unhe rokna naamumkin hai. phir woh chahe Brat Lee hon yaa." and he stopped. Akhir Brat jaise mahaan khiladi ki tulane kisi aur insaan se kaise kiya jaa sakta tha?? But we didnt. That is we did not stop. And one of my roommates said 'Phir chahe woh Brat Lee hon yaa Bruce Lee.' And we laughed.
Ok. This post is special. Not becus what I have written till now. it wud be special because of something that i am gonna write now. My brother was here in Bangalore for two days. Some work came up and he had to leave on Friday itself. We had so desperately wanted to watch a movie; 'Jab we met' to be specific. But as you have guessed rightly, we could not watch it. Anyway, so i had to book his flights. And the little gaon that we live in, does not have any direct flight from or to Bangalore. So he had to stop for the night in Mumbai. And my one of my bhai's clossest friends live in Mumbai but given that he wud arrive at mumbai during rush hour, I was not quite keen about my bhai staying at his friend's place. So I asked one of my lukkha friends on Gmail, 'Abe goregaon airport ke nazdeek hai kya?' and he said,'mostly yes! but ask Pondy!'As apparent from here, pondy seems to be someone's name. and Pondy, the word itself, cud very easily be the most famous word in an IIT. You shout Pondy on a mic from top of a hillock and you will see tens of Pondies ('Pondy's is sooooo un-creative!) coming out of each hostel. Pondy. Someday I will write a book on Pondy.
Anyway, The Pondy; talked about here, is one of my friends. One of my very closest friends. No word that i wud ever write wud give even a glimpse of what we share. He is the kind of guy, that guys become gay for. TCL. Tender Caring Love, comes to mind. Anyway, this post is not about me finally announcing my sexual orientation on a public forum. So pondy lives in Mumbai. At Goregaon to be specific. And I called him up. And we worked it out. My brother has safely reached our gaon now, after staying with Pondy for a nite. And I was really happy. I had told my brother that he will be staying with one of the best guys that i know in this world. And today he called me at 8 from airport. And he said kee pondy bahut achha ladka hai and that he went to watch 'Jab We Met' with him. And I felt happy. The kind of happiness that a girl gets wen her great-boyfriend has been approved by her parents, just what she had expected. And i think I wud have written more on the greatness of my boyfriend Pondy if he was not reading this post of mine. Yeah, he is one of the select fives. But I think i am happy that he wud read it.
Anyway, the post started off with idli. and rarely it may be, but this time it was not irrelevant. I was eating same old idli when I looked at this pamphlet that talked about one 19k cellfone being sold at 6k at one of the UniverCell outlets. Inaugural Offer, they called it. I stopped eating my idli. and went to the shop. and i found out offer was correct. I asked if there was any Black color model available. they said 'No'. i asked if there was any white color model available? They said 'NO!'. I asked if there was any other model with color other then 'Pink' available? They said 'No'. So I bought a Pink LG KG800. but the offer was two tempting. So I said, 'wtf, gimmi two of these.' Then they got me the bill. 12k. then I said, 'wtf, gimmi another one.' and so i had three pink cellfones with me. earlier i had cracked a joke on the pinkness of cell fones on how it might have been targetted for the gay segment of society. i had been polite enough a moment later and said sorry for cracking a nonveg joke. they said it was ok. yes, i was happy. as I was told another moment later I was the first customer at their outlet. and i wud eventually receive the mobilefones from some chairman himself. The MD held a little QA session with me. As in who was my favourite actress and i said 'amrita arora!' the lady at the presentation mike helped the MD with the name. I think its an Hindi (or was it Indian??!) movie actress. I thot I sud have said Pamela Anderson. no. Tory Lane. Anyway, he asked me why AA was my favourite actress and i said, 'bcus she is a fantastic actress.' no body laughed. anyway, i got to eat a lot of taufis and a laddu. the girl with 'thali of laddus' smiled. and i smiled back. every body shook hands with me. 'u are the first customers. do visit us again,' said one of the random man that i shook hands with. and i said 'so do i now get a discount thruout my life?'. and everybody laughed. and I was happy. everybody thanked me for gracing their store with my auspicious presence. and i said it was a pleasure. and i walked out of the store. and i was happy.
but knowledge. 'ignorance is a bliss.'they dont say it for nothing. And as i browsed thru the net i found out tht current MRP of the fone is 11k and can be bought frm the market in around 9k. Believe me it is not as funny as it sounds in your head. khoon ke aanshun ro raha hun main. Maa ghar mein intezaar kar rahi hai kee 'beta, pardesh se paisa kamaa ke aayega.' aur maine saare paise mobiles mein udaa diye. #@!#@#@!$#@$$%%^%%^%^%$^&&! if you didnt get any of the last typed letters its because it was me crying and i dont know how to express it on this goddoomed text-editor.
anyway, this post is especial. not becus i am a goddamn ducking loser. but becus here I gaat to write abt Pondy. And I am happy. I guess.
as it turns out this is the 50th post of this blog. no, u dont have to stand up and clap to show the respect right away. all that cud be (n sud be) done once i finish this blog. time note kar leta hun yaar. 10:31 pm. This will be remembered as the time when i started writing this historic post. ideally i sud review and share the experiences that i have had so far. but i am not quite sure about whether to do that or not. As while i am quite not interested in retrospection and summarization, i also get this feeling of responsibility that the knowledge that i have must be passed on to next generation. so we will see how all this turns out and if you are lucky you will get to learn to lesson of a lifetime in this single post.
firstly, i wud like to thank all those wonderfool people out there who blog. i really thot that bloggers were a bunch of losers (which was the main motivation behind me joining the band-wagon as i thot tht i wud finally be looking at a place from far distance preferably froma hilltop and singing- 'this is the place wher i belong!') but you guys rock. And there wud always be someone like Great Meeh who wud give inferiority complex to lessenlightened people, you sudnt feel shocked wen i say that there are blogs out there that make me admire the blogger.
anyway i am listening to this song. 'I try to throw the picture out of my mind; I try to leave the memories behind; Here by the ocean, waves carry voices from you; Do you know the truth, I am thinking of you too.' Nice song. anyway, where was I? this calls for a party. agar daaru hoti toh daaru pee leta. agar fanta hota toh fanta pee leta. paani hai par peene ke liye pet mein jagah nahi hai. anyway, dont feel bad tht i am not able to celebrate this special occasion; sutta tha aur maine sutta pee liya hai.
I am running out of patience and i dont think i wud be able to write for more than few minutes. ab yahan pe kuch sentimental aur sophisticated likhanaa bahut jaroori hai. i was about to present a nice analysis in which i wud have pointed out my basic blogging behaviour by looking at numbers. like how the number of posts that i have written each month reflects the fact that i had been happy, sad or in-general too lukkha (i.e. jobless) OR how the number of comments that i get directly result in the number of posts OR how the quality of the posts and number of posts are negatively correlated. But as I said I am about to leave now so you wont get to witness the power that numbers have.
so here comes the profound thot. And i dont know if i have discussed it before. hell. i gotta go man. the simple thing tht might help you at this point is 'Stop looking for profound thots!'
okk. this is gonna be a complete family-blog. No sex. No violence. No entertainment. When I look back at some of the recent posts that I have written recently (yupp, recent posts are sometimes written recently!) I feel disgusted. None of these posts will get an A-certificate without any editing. Abe, saale, maal, sutta and such disgusting words. I thot I wud come out as 'kool' as imzamam-ul-haq using them. Idiots live in such a wonderland! They are the most intelligent people in there.
Is this the blog that I cud talk to my sister about? I am disgusting. (How I wish that I knew any word other than 'disgusting'!) I deserve to be fried or roasted in hell. (Ok, GOd, I am just kidding!). Every time I write anything I feel smug. I look at my blog and I feel real studd. Which is exactly what I am feeling right now. Srsly who else can write such funny posts??! Anyway, there was this anonymous comment that I got on my previous post - 'One of the worst posts that I have read in my life!'. And I posted some reply with some real smart-ass-ness. But just after I posted the reply I knew that I cud have replied better. As in -'dude, u sure havent read my earlier posts!'. Anyway, anonymous comments are more than welcome. I have seem some real mean anonymous comments around the blogosphere and I have been quite impressed with the intelligence and smartassness in which they do the bashing. So anon guys you gotta understand that u have the pressure of keeping alive the tradition. I used to be one of them. Because I thot that commenting on a post with your login name implicitly expressed the desire of being read widely. And I was too sophisticated to do that. Too stoical. Well, I was rarely mean but always funny. I cud teach you guys a lesson or two on how to comment anonymously. Stick to the basics. Be smartassed, and not just plain mean.
itna kuch likh diya anonymous comments ko leker ki it wud seem that i am losing my temper. may be i am. but mostly i am not. anon comments are most welcome. the meaner the better. always gud to have some reality-check. and to my readers: DOnt just follow me blindly. I know that you think I am GOD. But in realty I am not. Yeh GOD wala joke purana ho gaya yaar. Even I dont laugh at them now.
anyway, the beginning was quite different I suppose. It was about using expletives. And the beginning was earlier supposed to be kind of a joke, where you think that I am writing a serious post and things like-such issues cud only be discussed and identified by one who is a real studd- And then at the end I wud laugh back at you for being a real stupid to expect anything serious from me. My answer wud have been- 'expletives??! who ducking cares!'. but the thing is I do care. Well using them do project an images of urs where you are trying too hard to sound kool. but that is not it. the thing is that world is that way. I dont spend a day without giving truck load of gaalis to few select friends of mine. and complete censorship is not something that i cud recommend at this time. Well, web is open for all but I hope(n rather correctly) that my readers are all adults and intelligent and knw how to interpret things. well, if any kid starts reading my blog someday, may be then i wud stop being so irresponsible. but for the time being let me enjoy myself.
One thing that happens when you start working is that you get paid. When you get paid, you want to contribute to the growth of national economy, not by investing but by spending money. Ab main kya bataun yaar. Bahut paise hain mere pass. I don’t know how to spend them. So I call my friends. Boy Friends to be specific. That is what happens when you first study in an all-boys school and after that in one of the supposedly reputed institutes of higher education. (yessssss! I totally avoided using the name(of the institute)! Another proof of my idea of modesty. OR rather a sacrifice made (by me, ofcourse!) so that people continue believing in the sovereignty of theses institutes. Who knows after knowing the name of the college that had the misfortune of keeping me within its premises, parents might just refuse to send there kids to that college!). I think that all this brackets have done much to confuse your delicate mind. so I ll repeat the golden words. or rather copy-paste them. . So I call my friends. Boy Friends to be specific. That is what happens when you first study in an all-boys school and after that in one of the supposedly reputed institutes of higher education. You make a lot of Boy Friends. And what do we talk to them about??? Speaking of the topics that I usually discuss with my friends, I wud also like to point out the way my conversation goes when I call to my home.
My sis: Hello!
Me: Haan bahan. kaise ho yaar?
My sis: achchhi hun. Tu kaisa hai?
Me: main bhi achcha hun. Khana kha liye?
sis: haan. tune?
Me: Nahin. Khaunga abhi. kya sabzi khaye?
sis: tu aayega toh roz karela banaungi, k?
Me : k.
sis : kuchh baat kar ?
Me: arre, India match jeet gayee yaar.
sis: achha!! man of the match kise mila?
Me: Pata nahi!
Sis: chal theek hai. phone rakh. bahut bore kar diya tune.
Me: k, gud night!
Sis: gud night!
So its nice that you don’t have to say ‘damn’ and such lovely words aloud to communicate to your sister.
Anyway, where was I?? I will again replay the conversation for less enlightened ones. So I call my friends. Boy Friends to be specific. That is what happens when you first study in an all-boys school and after that in one of the supposedly reputed institutes of higher education. You make a lot of Boy Friends. Boy Friends, who have also studies in an all-boys school and a supposedly prestigious institute of higher education. And what do you talk to them about???
Me: Abe office-woffice ki baat karke bore mat karo yaar! Aur teri babe kaisee hai?
Me: Abe wahi wali??
Me: Abe yaar. ek toh pahle tum jaise phaltoo logo ko call karo. phir nakhre bhi jhelo.
Me: Abe, nahi hai toh banao be. salae, kuch bolne ke liye hona chahiye yaa nahi.
Me: abe yaar. bore kar rahe ho tum.
Me: Abe haan. Chau ki babe toh maal hai be. saala photu bhi dikha raha tha us din. saale, kuch sikho usse.
Me: hEE hee hEE Haa!
…(Hee HEE Hee hAA!)..
Me: Abe yahi faayadaa hota hai angrezi-mein-thodi-kam-studd ladki pataane kaa. you can talk all the English that u want.
Me: hEE hee hEE Haa
Me: Chal be bore mat kar. kat le ab. paise lagte hain phone karne ke.
kat is pronounced ‘cut’. Okk! Coming bak to the point. heres a quick recap for less privileged ones. ‘One thing that happens when you start working is that you get paid. When you get paid, you want to contribute to the growth of national economy, not by investing but by spending money. Ab main kya bataun yaar. Bahut paise hain mere pass. I don’t know how to spend them. So I call my friends. Boy Friends to be specific.’ And I don’t really enjoy it. You sud spend the gud twenty minutes of your time( or rather Talk Time) talking to someone that you cud talk to your boyfriends about, right? A babe that is. Shey!(yaa, one of the sound I invented hybriding ‘Sigh’ and ‘Shit’! it sounds almost like ‘Say’.)
Movies. Masti. Magic.
ohhk. A kool start of another wanna-be-a-milestone post of mine. So if your heart is broken. Your boyfriend is screwing another girl. Your girl friend has ditched you after your first night together. You want to cry but don’t know what to cry for. And you want to restore your faith in love. OR if you just want to spend some time enjoying watching beautiful movies. Watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset.
I wud love to give some sample conversations that the protagonists have in this movie. But you have got to watch it to feel it. But still try this:
Jesse: Okay, so you do believe in religion?
Celine: No, I don't think so.
Jesse: What about fate?
Celine: [shakes her head] Mm-mmm.
Celine: But at the same time I don't want to be one of those people who don't believe in anything magical.
Jesse: So then, astrology.
Celine: Yes, of course! Now that makes total sense, right? You're a Capricorn, I'm a Sagittarius, that's why we get along so well.
Ok. I so desperately want to watch it again. As often is the case, I am expecting the creativity (trash??) to start flowing on its own. It might find its way out any time from now. Knowledge is such a dangerous thing. When I didn’t know about this fact; ok, I might know about it subconsciously, but I hadn’t given recognition to the fact of ‘flowing creativity’ after a crappy start; things were going normal and the later part of my otherwise totally crap posts will have something that I cud be proud of. But, now that I wait for the creativity to flow out I am worried about the mechanism that it must follow, the route that it must take to finally come out. I think I wud have made a much elegant writing in this paragraph if my English was anywhere near good. But may be it IS more effective only because my English is mediocre. Because people will think that he knew but couldn’t communicate it well because, well.., his Angrezi was pathetically bad. So there I go. Creativity is now flowing all around.
I sud talk more about the movie. But as often the case is, I don’t know what to talk about. This wud be the most impressive movie if you watch it knowing nothing about it and you watch the sequel just as you finish the first one. As I had seen it of course. Okk, I gotta go home.
As I have got a sudden increase in number of readers that I have now, I have been doing a lot of retrospection lately. To be exact, now I have five readers in all. Till recently, actually about a month ago, I had only one reader. A 400% increase in just one month. That’s something. Of course, I have assumed that my first reader who was also the one to have made me moved to Blogspot is still strong enough to be able to cope up with the increasing level of stupidity that I have not-so-surprisingly maintained. Yeah, for those privileged ones who haven’t had the misfortune of reading my posts from its inception sud know that I earlier used to write in Yahoo! 360. It’s another thing that the sole reader of all my posts was none other than Great Meeh only. But those were the fun days. I would write some funny lines and laugh over them whole day. Not that I don’t do it anymore but still. In fact, I was quite reluctant to move to blogspot. Reason?? Well, I have set very high moral standard for myself. And one of these high moral standards is being faithful to things that have been sukh-dukh-ke-saathi in old times. ORR in other words, I don’t really like changes. Things sud remain as they are for eternity. And that is why I am not quite sure whether I am happy or sad that more people are reading my blog now. Well I always wanted and ‘deserved’ a celeb status. Comeon! All, ok five of you know and believe that I absolutely deserve being King Khan of Bloggiwood right?? Anyway, when she was the only reader, I was a lot more likely to write good shit. Not that I wanted to but as I have read some of my earlier posts I actually am amazed at what ever I have done unintentionally. kya likhta tha yaar main! I am seriously thinking about copy-pasting some of my earlier posts. Swa-prashansha that is self-praising or self promotion is gonna take me to the places.
My posts are making a lot of sense lately. And I don’t like it. This was not what I was here for. I never wished to sound candid or emotional or for that matter smart-assed although I am all of them in reality. I wanted to sell lies and crap. And after almost an year of slogging my ass out, is this what I get?? Just five people, who think that I am GAWD! (that’s GOD you nitwit!) This post is a lot sounding like the last post of my life. And now I am thinking about staging a drama where I go away giving up blogging completely and after which, one of these five morons stages a self-immolation in Aaj Tak pleading for my come-back. Morons! I am calling five people who manage to survive my posts, MORONS! Maaf kar doh yaar. Main haath-paanv-pair sab jodta hun apne. Main kya khak Gawd hun?! Sab apni photu bhej dena, apne dektop ka background banaa ke pooja kiya karunga din-raat. Par galti se bhi mere sade-gale posts panda band mat karna. Main toh naadan fun. masoom. nihayat hee bewkoof!
Aah. Now it feels like home. No one else is capable of delivering this much shit in one post. I was about to write something serious. And while this statement-the writing seriously crap- might sound like the joke of the year-and its October already- I actually wanted to write something serious. but I guess I ll wait.
When nothing worth writing is happening in your present, you write about past. And movies. And that is how its always been for me. So today during our lunch my friend and I were discussing how Himesh Reshmiyan really rocks big time. We were discussing that kool song from Phir Hera Pheri. Ai Meri Zohrajabeen. And also how Akshay Kumar is too kool. And I asked him that Akshay Kumar must be his favourite actor. He said he wasn’t. And I casually asked, ‘who is your favourite actor then?’ And He said, ‘Don’t ask.’
Ok, so we had our disgusting lunch. We came out and stopped outside to smoke. (Kool banana ke liye kya kya karna padta hai!) Anyway, we continued talking about the same song and movies in general. He suddenly said, ‘I would tell you who my fav actor is but then don’t laugh.’ And I said I wouldn’t. I didn’t. So as it turned out his favourite actor was Ajay Devgan. Who also happens to be my favourite actor. At least that is what I used to think becus he is my big brother’s favourite actor and is almost always the case I also admired the actor a lot. Now I am kool and outside the trivial and moronic fan clubs. So I don’t have any favourites. But I want Ajay Devgan to excel. I want to see him right at the top. And the man has delivered. The growth that he has shown for all these years is commendable. But after each terrific performance he is bound to appear in a row of suckingly pathetic movies. Especially his comedies.
Anyway, so this is not the first time that I have seen some of my friends finally confessing that they like Ajay Devgan. Even gals. Okay just one girl. Who used to teach us about computers in our school. At the end of that educational year we threw her a farewell party in our own little poor way as she was in the skool for just one year. And she said, ‘Pata nahi yaar. Sabhi bolte hain kee you are nuts, but I still find Ajay Devgan as my favourite actor.’ And boy wasn’t I happy! Anyway I wont complain that they sud feel shy about confessing their liking for the actor as even I am one of them. The way he keeps acting in damn crappy movies! Is also commendable.
Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again. Sam, do you think there's someone out there you could love as much as your wife?
Sam Baldwin: Well, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone, that's hard to imagine.
Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: What are you going to do?
Sam Baldwin: Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.
If you have seen ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ then I don’t need to tell you anything else about the above conversation. But for the sake of adding more lines to this relatively ‘contentless’ post I wud assume that you haven’t seen this movie. Tom Hanks is Sam Baldwin. And Doctor Marcia Fieldstone is videshi version of ‘Love Guru’. She solves love-related problems of losers on Radio.
Tom Hanks, being the hero, is not a loser of course. But his wife has just died and his 4-5 years old son is concerned about him. So he dials the number, tells Marcia about his dad and shouts, ‘Daddy, you have got a call.’ (Now I am confused, I have read somewhere that period(.) sud be inside inverted comma, but in case of ‘Love Guru’ using my common sense that I have got so abundantly I opted to keep it outside the inverted commas. Any Help?)
Beautiful Dialogues. I know. Best part of the whole movie. You don’t have to worry about Sam though. He will get 1000 or something requests for his address next day on radio station from single and looking, hot and cool, moms and their daughters. Anyway, for a change, when I actually wrote or copy-pasted above part of this post, I had a point to make. I know I am taking a risk when I say that I feel urgent need to do something about things that I know are wrong. Or like going back home and living there happily ever after. And I feel it quite strongly. But I ignore these emotions all the time and opt to wait for a more suitable time. And I am afraid someday when the suitable time comes I wont feel the same about these things.
Crap. I shouldn’t even try writing about these stuffs. I sud stick to the image that I hav lived upto but till recently. Being stupid and funny.
So here is a song to end this disappointing post.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
It's not warm when she's away.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long,
Anytime she goes away.
Wonder this time where she's gone,
Wonder if she's gone to stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home,
Anytime she goes away.
And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know..
Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone,
But ain't no sunshine when she's gone,
Only darkness everyday.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,
And this house just ain't no home,
Anytime she goes away.
Aaj toh ek kavita likh ke hee rahunga. All my life I have believed that creativity mujhmein kut-kutke bhari padi hai. And poetry was something that I thot I cud do any given day. Give me a theme and I will write few smart lines that will aptly describe it. Like the way that homeless(that I have rightly assumed) poet used to do in 'Before Sunrise'. Or as in the movie 'Khoobsurat'(the old one). First things first. The lines must not rhyme. Mr Sameer has done much to make any writer of 'rhyming' songs become saram se pani-pani.
So here I go.
Losses and gains,
Or was it profit?
Or are they the same?
That looks quite impressive. The only thing that remains is that I sud look for a kool name of this genre in which I am writing.
My posts are not funny anymore. I sud rather write about love. Do I have nothing in my life to write about. Or am I too ashamed/insecure to maintain a written record of them? Nice questions! Makes me look like the one who looks deeply under his own skin.(Did i just invent a new idiom or something?!)
AAh! Now I remember. Frustration. Was the main emotion that I have been going thruoutlast week. Or throughout life, may be. But I remember I was happy. Once or twice. After coming to bombay I mean. Like, when my mom told me that my score in the chemistry in 12th, when re-totaled, had gone up to 59 from 27.I always believed in miracles. Chhattisgarh State Board. They create them. The miracles, I meant. What a nerdy guy I used to be.Who feels happy for increased chemistry scores?! But now I am kool. When my CPI(CGPI, as they are often referred to in more reputed institutes!) crossed the Satti (7) mark I was only too disappointed to realize that it wont be six something now. I lived in hostel six. My chhakki was a tribute to my hostel. But they snatched it away from me. A little sigh of relief came on my face (where else can a sigh come???!!! :x) only when one of my friends regretted his un-achievement of not being a seven pointer after graduation. Thank you, my friend.
But now that I think real hard, I find I am miles away from being kool. Actually I didnt have to think that hard. I just had to watch this movie which will soon become one of my favourites.
Almost Famous. Dont miss the chance of seeing it if you get one.
A brief intro. This movie is about a rock band. A 15 years old boy, William, is given the chance of interviewing them. Lester Bangs is a reputed 'music critic' and acts like a mentor to William. This conversation takes place after William is in the middle of the tours that this band does and is quite unsure what to write.The band obviously wants william to write good things about it.
Lester Bangs: Aw, man. You made friends with them. See, friendship is the booze they feed you. They want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong.
William Miller: Well, it was fun.
Lester Bangs: They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not cool.
William Miller: I know. Even when I thought I was, I knew I wasn't.
Lester Bangs: That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.
William Miller: I can really see that now.
Lester Bangs: Yeah, great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love... and let's face it, you got a big head start.
William Miller: I'm glad you were home.
Lester Bangs: I'm always home. I'm uncool.
William Miller: Me too!
Lester Bangs: The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool.
William Miller: I feel better.
Lester Bangs: My advice to you. I know you think those guys are your friends. You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful.
Now I dont get much of the conversation that's happening here but the 'not-getting-girls' part made me realize that I was unkool.
Movies. AAh. How do they make such wonderful movies! One day I will make one. I have two or three story lines also. In first one, all the actors I hire are new comers. And we are not sure which one is the real hero; while each one of the characters thinks that she(damn!) is the real hero. Only at the end of the movie will we know whis the real hero. Nice, na!
The other one will of course be the story of my life. I am reading 'Kane and Able' (Jeffry Archer) for last few days. And I think that that will be helpful wen I make the movie. I am disappointed here bcus if you havent read the novel you wont get the joke. yesss, there is a joke here. Subtle, as every joke must be. So whenever you finish reading that novel come back and re-read the post.
I gotta pee now!
So, every post must start with a so. And I have been thinking real hard on what to write. Something very witty. Anything too hilarious. And different. And this post is it. It will establish my authority for once and all.
I propose here to tell an adult story. Yaa, you are right when you attach the conventional meaning to the word ‘adult’. You must recognize that the topic is rather interesting. And challenging. You gotta work hard to create humour out of it without offending anyone. And even if one gets offended she (this post is not intended only for the more sophisticated community, it’s just that using ‘she’ is the latest thing in, at least for me!) should find it funny enough to admire the writer of the content.
Now what?! I have tried hard to make an impressive opening statement. But it has sucked right till now. I had thought that all the knowledge that I had gained when I lived in hostel with my computer and free internet and LAN access would come in handy. I had* seen it all. (*have?! But ‘had’ gives that pleasure of sounding mature and old that is very difficult to resist!) Bosses, secretaries, milkmen, Tarzans, working-at-xerox-shop dudes, working-at-xerox-shop-babes, Ms-Indonesias, swimming-pools, night-clubs, shady-apartments, cars, (the-vehicle-that-king khan-used-in-Swadesh)s, disgusting MMSs, disgustingly innovative plots, everything. But now I stare blankly at my monitor’s screen and think about giving up this pursuit of proving-the-authority all together.
One of the innovations that I had intended to implement here was the use of aliases for the ‘must’ words that must be used in any interesting and offending adult estory. ‘Must’ words must be used just as ‘performances’ must be performed. Anybody who has watched ‘Scrubs’ should know what I mean. We could use names of fruits. Mangoes, cauliflower, cucumber, chikus. Healthier, the better. Then we have little difficult ones. Like for the oldest profession from the beginning of human race (Reference needed!), and for the professionals. Okk, its getting too boring now. Where’s the story??
I am really lost here. With this amount of constraint my work-of-art will sound more like any other , extra-ordinarily ordinary love story. And I so don’t want that. Much has been said and written about love. And even I have already given truck-load of gyan on it already. It’s too boring and all the time while you read the story -a love story- you search for those moments of intimacy and when they finally come you are already in love with the characters and hence biased in your critical analysis of the actual content. This post was intended to prove that the sheer power of powerful writing (See!) should be able to hold a reader.
WOW! That was some real shit up there. Any way as you might have rightly guessed I am actually not going to narrate an adult story. It’s not about being scared about being called with interesting names like pervert or nymphomaniac. It’s just that I seriously think that I still believe that I can write one such interesting story. And you gotta admit that idea is good. So this post serves the purpose of a prologue like any sophisticated book and the critics could go through this post to analyze my story thoroughly.
So this post is actually meant to serve only one purpose. We were watching this show on Zee Cafe where they call 'celebrities' and tell them to act funny. Now we don’t watch any serials as such but I think it was in our destiny to watch this show. So he was telling the host something about some boxes where you go and pick something and then you open that something and you find one question written on it. And then you successfully answer the question and win prizes. And he gave us one of the sample questions. And I am gonna ask you that exact question. But before that we gotta pass time. Because great words of wisdom must not come out easily. You must endure and appreciate the amount of shit that we go through each day to appreciate the achievements that we rarely (or never!) manage to achieve. Yupp, you achieve the achievements. Anyway, you have got an option of going straight to the end of this post and looking at the question. And if I were you I wud have done the exact same thing. I mean why go through shit if you could escape it in the first place. And secondly, you ( and I) have already gone through enough shit to go through it again even here. But then I am not the most Intelligentest person in the world. Well, I might be. But for the sake of pretending to be modest, I will assume that I am not the most intelligent person. And we will further assume that most intelligent person doesn’t make (commit??) mistakes and this assumption is very much questionable because ideally no one is perfect and most intelligent is one who does not repeat the mistakes she (yey! I belong to elite class now!) has made before. But as I will eventually prove this assumption doesn’t make much difference to the final finding (Which is that you sudnt act smart and read the post completely before going to the end, btw!) because even if the most intelligent person was reading the post he will know by her past experience that she had commited a blunder when she chose to jump to the end as she had to come back to the same place again and read through the post all over again. And in case, the most intelligent person is first timer than she would find logic in my logic (yes! If you don’t then you are certainly not the most intelligent person!) and restrict herself from going to the end without reading the rest of this rather brain stimulating post. Well, there is another case – what if she dint couldn’t reach to this place where I have explained the logic of my logic, and escape all this gyan ki baatein and goes directly to the end of this post. Well that will contradict with our basic assumption that the reader is most intelligent person as only an idiot will even think about escaping this ..again brain stimulating post. But even if we make a concession and assume that the latest assumption ( the assumption that only idiots will think about not going through this elite shit!) and assume that it doesn’t hold true in this exceptional case of intelligence-incarnated, even in that case by default she will have to come back and go through the rest of the post and she will totally agree with me that only idiots will even think of leaving any portion unread. And given that she is most intelligent person around, you gotta believe whatever she says, And hence you have not make any mistakes by reading all along. You can feel good now, and apply for the contest where they choose most intelligent person living on earth. And going through this post completely is the minimum criterion that you need to have in your resume. Your chances of getting the title will increase if you read more of brain-stimulating stuffs that I write so seldomly.
So I think this is what happens when you read Catch-22. See, how modest I am. Even when I know that creativity lies within I wont admit it, and find someone else to give credit of my brilliant work. Creativity is flowing all over me. And I want to hide it but I cant.
So, If you are now starting to feel like an idiot and want to give up, I will tell you something about Bayes. Thomas Bayes, was a priest and was quite interested in mathematics. So as every priest must, he also believed in God. And not only did he believe himself, he also wanted everyone else to believe in Him. So in a desperate attempt to prove His existence, he started to collect data. Data related to how good people are doing in their life and what are their beliefs on God or rather broadly how morally they were behaving in their day to day life. His goal was simple : To show the world that who behaved morally acceptable behaviour were doing good in life as God must be taking good care of his followers. And he did do his analysis. But he did not publish it in his lifetime. It was published after his death by one of his friends. And everyone who is doing anything in probability must know Bayesian Theorem. So as all you intelligent people must have guessed by now that his finding was that religious/morally correct people suffered more than their non-believer counterparts. Well, there are many loopholes in this result as you might tend to argue how you measure happiness and god-fearing people might be more happy internally. Well, toh here is another logical logic from me. As we grow stronger, more liberated we tend to challenge everything that others believe on. And that might be one important factor in that person’s success. We become more defiant as we see that nothing is happening to us. So, we might like to pretend that we are not sure whether god exists or not, we know somewhere in the core of our heart that there is really no God.
But I do believe in miracles. Mathematically nothing is impossible. There is always some probability of any possibility. But one in a million people will get to witness that is extraordinary. And I would like to believe that this extra-ordinary events are distributed amongst we human beings in not a totally random way. I would like to believe that god hand-picks them. That he says that ‘Okk man, you have been through enough shit already, and this is your day. Go screw Amrita Arora for a change.’ Okk that didn’t come out that well. But I hope that you got my point. I would also like to mention this film of mithunda where he plays swami ramkrishn param hans. So if you have seen it, you should give me a hi-fi if you haven’t you should miss not having watched this movie. So now the final question that I am gonna ask you. Hold you breath. Don’t even think about blinking. Here it comes. So what would you prefer? Watching a parn movie with your parents..or STARRING your parents?