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.

(Mithun Da)
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?)

‘Nahin! Yaar.’


‘Abe bahut ganda tha yaar. Beech mein hee give-up ho gaya!’


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.

She smiled.

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.

Every saint had a past. And every sinner has a future.