They sleep.
Yeah that’s what they did. Looked at the heavens and thanked. Every time, I tell myself that I have to buy an air pillow but never did. Another horrible less-sleep night.
Next thing…
I cleaned the white stuff that accumulates at the eye corners and looked at my watch it said 9:45 AM. I bent my neck down for a peak through the window to check on the station. There were a whole bunch of different species in my compartment. For a moment thought I was brought to some other train. Old couple is gone. Felt sorry for not doing “sashtanga dandam”. Got down and found one sandal of the pair in my compartment and the other in the next. Dressed them and walked towards the rest room with oral-B in my left hand. Made myself feel a-bit-lighter & washed my face came out of that stinking place. Can’t blame those who used it before me but me. After loosing 1 rupee to a coffee-boy; he asks for chutta -- I say I don’t have – even if I have 50 paisa less he won’t take it but he would not mind me loosing a rupee; felt refreshing. No news paper, no Tiffin - after 10:30 AM pantry people start preparing lunch and no problem I always take backup.
Washed my hands & came back to my seat to see that I do not have place to sit. Why? People get into reserved coaches buying general tickets or with no tickets if they have to get down at the nearby station. They behave real strange. No need to buy a news paper I thought as I am getting everything that happened recently that too visually – with their expressions & tone of the language. All sorts of discussions. Kids can give wholesome entertainment until you become their prey. Some times their play can be informative too.
This is the phase of my journey I hate the most. Its just 45 min or 1 hr to my destination. They stop the train at every signal making it reach with 1 or 2 hrs delay. There is one funny thing too to it. If at all it reaches a bit early to any of the stations they halt it for some time to make up for the expected arrival.
Last but not the least – after eye-chatting with fellow compartmentalists for more than the span of a karan johar’s movie – its eye-farewell
P.S. Tribute to Indian railways for keeping me & my hopes alive
Monday, May 7, 2007
108706 km divided by 2
I, after coming to Madras, am paying visit to my native place – Vizag - once a month. Mode of transport …“gareebon ka hawai jahag”… I do not have to mention, of course, that they represent our country India in true spirit.
But I was very much different from my usual self while traveling last week. Keenly observing everybody n everything that could be fodder for my … paparazzi is kick-ass man…
Had plenty of time while going home but slept for 10 Hrs on my return journey spanning 12 Hrs. I hate to be at work after coming from home. That very thought makes me sick – sure many would agree with that – just imagine - a place where everything is as you wanted it to be …cant have everything … that’s the beauty of life…
I always prefer reaching the station at least 30 min early. Did so this time as well. As it was a long weekend there was huge crowd. Took 10 min to get to a standing box where I have to feed my PNR No: to get my ticket status. Sigh of relief! No need to worry I said to myself as I got my ticket confirmed 20 min before the departure.
As my, most teasing, hope of sharing an RAC berth with a hot babe was looking at me pitiably from a dustbin I walked hurriedly to S4. My eyes wide open fell on the numbers ranging 32 – 39. No luck this time either I solaced myself. Cursing every possible creature for my royal-stag-ness got in to check my berth you know what strange things might welcome you there. Some times people – old or large family scattered into different coaches – wait for your arrival to tell you have to go to some other coach some other berth. Most of the times I oblige them by accepting their offer by giving rebirth to my … what a looser I am … but I never understood one thing. Why me? Always …
There were almost 15 people in a compartment meant for 8. Rest waiting for TTE. All guys… silence, filtering outside noise, which tells you that you are in a land of mute. Nobody tries to break the ice. Sometimes I get so pissed at that take it onto my shoulder though.
After playing the lead in a 2hr silent movie, finally got my berth all for me.
Ah! That’s when the real Indian drama started. I was not aware of what I was going to get into. An old couple... now we are coming to talkie …
Old lady -> mamma (grandma), old man -> tata (grandpa), me -> looser
Grandma: where are you going?
Looser: Vizag. Innocently… asked her what about you?
Grandpa: intervened and said we are coming from my son’s place, Chennai. We went on a trip to pilgrimage in & around there. Going to Rajahmundry.
Looser: ok. What all places you have been to?
Grandma: we went to kanchipuram, Meenakshi temple and some temples in Chennai itself. There was so much of rush at Meenakshi temple.
Looser: yeah its summer season right
Grandma: this generation does not know how to respect elders at all. There at the temple a kid stepped on my foot & did not even say sorry to me.
Grandpa: my son he, paused for a while, knows in great detail how to behave with elders. When ever he goes out he does “sashtanga dandapranamam” to us. Even my grand son he respects every body.
Looser: got a faint idea of what was happening shut my mouth. Poor me
Grandma: what do you do?
Looser: I work as a softwa… did not even finish
Grandpa: these software people there are one from every house. There are so many engineering colleges in Andhra producing them in lakhs every year. Our government should take some measures to stop that as it is increasing unemployment. We should stop this outsourcing to India. The call centers are spoiling the youth.
Looser: what does your son do?
Grandma: PM in big software MNC. Works very hard you know.
Looser: ok which one? With a naughty you-are-shit look.
Grandpa: wipro.
Looser: that’s great.
Grandpa: he has been working there for the past 12 years. He was in USA for 5 years.
Grandma: my daughter-in-law also works for an MNC. She was in USA too for quite some time. My grand son speaks real good English.
Looser: thanked the dinner time. Was expecting they would go to bed after that so that I can peacefully be myself. They were having roti & avakaya pickle. Grandma offered me some but said no thanks.
They have a strange habit after having dinner. You know what
But I was very much different from my usual self while traveling last week. Keenly observing everybody n everything that could be fodder for my … paparazzi is kick-ass man…
Had plenty of time while going home but slept for 10 Hrs on my return journey spanning 12 Hrs. I hate to be at work after coming from home. That very thought makes me sick – sure many would agree with that – just imagine - a place where everything is as you wanted it to be …cant have everything … that’s the beauty of life…
I always prefer reaching the station at least 30 min early. Did so this time as well. As it was a long weekend there was huge crowd. Took 10 min to get to a standing box where I have to feed my PNR No: to get my ticket status. Sigh of relief! No need to worry I said to myself as I got my ticket confirmed 20 min before the departure.
As my, most teasing, hope of sharing an RAC berth with a hot babe was looking at me pitiably from a dustbin I walked hurriedly to S4. My eyes wide open fell on the numbers ranging 32 – 39. No luck this time either I solaced myself. Cursing every possible creature for my royal-stag-ness got in to check my berth you know what strange things might welcome you there. Some times people – old or large family scattered into different coaches – wait for your arrival to tell you have to go to some other coach some other berth. Most of the times I oblige them by accepting their offer by giving rebirth to my … what a looser I am … but I never understood one thing. Why me? Always …
There were almost 15 people in a compartment meant for 8. Rest waiting for TTE. All guys… silence, filtering outside noise, which tells you that you are in a land of mute. Nobody tries to break the ice. Sometimes I get so pissed at that take it onto my shoulder though.
After playing the lead in a 2hr silent movie, finally got my berth all for me.
Ah! That’s when the real Indian drama started. I was not aware of what I was going to get into. An old couple... now we are coming to talkie …
Old lady -> mamma (grandma), old man -> tata (grandpa), me -> looser
Grandma: where are you going?
Looser: Vizag. Innocently… asked her what about you?
Grandpa: intervened and said we are coming from my son’s place, Chennai. We went on a trip to pilgrimage in & around there. Going to Rajahmundry.
Looser: ok. What all places you have been to?
Grandma: we went to kanchipuram, Meenakshi temple and some temples in Chennai itself. There was so much of rush at Meenakshi temple.
Looser: yeah its summer season right
Grandma: this generation does not know how to respect elders at all. There at the temple a kid stepped on my foot & did not even say sorry to me.
Grandpa: my son he, paused for a while, knows in great detail how to behave with elders. When ever he goes out he does “sashtanga dandapranamam” to us. Even my grand son he respects every body.
Looser: got a faint idea of what was happening shut my mouth. Poor me
Grandma: what do you do?
Looser: I work as a softwa… did not even finish
Grandpa: these software people there are one from every house. There are so many engineering colleges in Andhra producing them in lakhs every year. Our government should take some measures to stop that as it is increasing unemployment. We should stop this outsourcing to India. The call centers are spoiling the youth.
Looser: what does your son do?
Grandma: PM in big software MNC. Works very hard you know.
Looser: ok which one? With a naughty you-are-shit look.
Grandpa: wipro.
Looser: that’s great.
Grandpa: he has been working there for the past 12 years. He was in USA for 5 years.
Grandma: my daughter-in-law also works for an MNC. She was in USA too for quite some time. My grand son speaks real good English.
Looser: thanked the dinner time. Was expecting they would go to bed after that so that I can peacefully be myself. They were having roti & avakaya pickle. Grandma offered me some but said no thanks.
They have a strange habit after having dinner. You know what
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Gaand mein danda
Have you ever been part of a gang? Not the mafia… no to naxalites… bye bye ulfa…just your friends… your regulars…
If you ever have been then will understand …
What do they jaw-exercise on when they hang out? Well, not the one I am doing is fit for answering that but try to give my best shot. The topics range from ant’s wink to getting laid on mars. Of all, Mean of the topic-probability density curve, packet-pumping is my darling. I have done PhD on that. I am the best. Am I? Let’s see…
What is this packet-pumping? – It’s a branch of human science where people in tune with the rest all choose & make their victims surrender for a laughing-horse-ride until targeted.
Confused? Ok, in simple terms you make him / her (looser…) do unpant-doggie stuff.
Though this science has not got its due, which one day will, for unknown reasons - has lot to offer – shit-makes-sense feeling – I-am-the-best feeling – sucking-rocks feeling – size-does-matter feeling lot like that.
What are the social benefits of it? – Waste-management…
Who does it best? Us …
Why?
Ask me, for that matter any of my friends, who does it all the time in the gatherings – get this right away – if true to you - winning over others wit and charm gives fun – ugly brother-ego gets food. It seems as if our prime-motive is to pull everybody down and handstand on them. It’s a non-stop masti for all but the center.
Let me introduce the main character first – we call him the center, bakara – there are many names though. Every gang has one I guess.
But for the center it is mayhem. The best part of it is no one knows in advance who the next “bakara” will be. You get to see the gravity-defying table turners – who give poor politicians run for their money.
Cut the crap…
I really don’t understand the inherent motive of a person who gets that jubilation by making others pose for a kick-his-balls look. Have we become so blind that we can’t see our friend’s suffering? Why is it eating so much of our invaluable time? Why?
Why me?
I think it’s my birth right. I have it in my blood I guess. Can’t help but… Kaating...
If you ever have been then will understand …
What do they jaw-exercise on when they hang out? Well, not the one I am doing is fit for answering that but try to give my best shot. The topics range from ant’s wink to getting laid on mars. Of all, Mean of the topic-probability density curve, packet-pumping is my darling. I have done PhD on that. I am the best. Am I? Let’s see…
What is this packet-pumping? – It’s a branch of human science where people in tune with the rest all choose & make their victims surrender for a laughing-horse-ride until targeted.
Confused? Ok, in simple terms you make him / her (looser…) do unpant-doggie stuff.
Though this science has not got its due, which one day will, for unknown reasons - has lot to offer – shit-makes-sense feeling – I-am-the-best feeling – sucking-rocks feeling – size-does-matter feeling lot like that.
What are the social benefits of it? – Waste-management…
Who does it best? Us …
Why?
Ask me, for that matter any of my friends, who does it all the time in the gatherings – get this right away – if true to you - winning over others wit and charm gives fun – ugly brother-ego gets food. It seems as if our prime-motive is to pull everybody down and handstand on them. It’s a non-stop masti for all but the center.
Let me introduce the main character first – we call him the center, bakara – there are many names though. Every gang has one I guess.
But for the center it is mayhem. The best part of it is no one knows in advance who the next “bakara” will be. You get to see the gravity-defying table turners – who give poor politicians run for their money.
Cut the crap…
I really don’t understand the inherent motive of a person who gets that jubilation by making others pose for a kick-his-balls look. Have we become so blind that we can’t see our friend’s suffering? Why is it eating so much of our invaluable time? Why?
Why me?
I think it’s my birth right. I have it in my blood I guess. Can’t help but… Kaating...
Saturday, April 21, 2007
When I hated ...
At my grand parent’s house when we all gather at one place time just stalls, laughs cry for a break, all sort of discussions – my grand mother always tells me how I cried when I was born non stop till my mom took me in her arms – times when I fell from the top of the stairs – my mischievous deeds – throwing whatever I see into the well - eating whatever I hold – times of my tryst at stealing the mangoes in the backyard acts of lord Krishna she adds proudly with a twinkle in her eyes - gone are those days I said to myself picking up the Hindu dated 18th Apr 2007. Pause…
No point in wearing the perception I was wearing I thought. If you see what I see, would go through the same … TRUTH …
The mankind’s greatest fear is TO COME FACE TO FACE WITH THE TRUTH. Every human being fears it. Indeed our greatest responsibility lies in hiding it from us. You know what, every time I ask myself what is it that makes you the happiest person on earth? I don’t even have to finish - comes the reply - How best one can stay devoid of the day-to-day happenings makes him/her that happier a person. After all who would like to put their naked bones to the display? I really don’t know how many of you reading this felt like that or gave it a thought, what’s the big deal, but how many would make their hands count is what makes the difference?
If words can change the world, for that matter a person, I would not be doing what you were reading.
That very moment I hated that I was merely trying to blame what ever I come across rather than finding the real cause. Or was I doing it intentionally? If so why? Don’t know? So is there a solution? Don’t know?
Have to change the world on the whole -> to do that have to start it with myself. Cracked the first clue in the truth-hunt then what …? … Was on from dusk till dawn … finally…
Desperate measures for desperate times.
Only one – make the reference point to itself – an infinite lo
op – think that you are the whole world – simple – isn’t it? Or appears so? Then the solution would be …. What …. Suicide – yes, kill yourself - what better way than that is there to redeem you from everything – erase yourself so that the world would never come to know that you even existed.
Then the options kept pouring like politician’s unstoppable, never-materialize, promises during an election campaign. Ctrl+c / Ctrl+v
in progress …
Was too soft with myself I thought …
Then …
Sensing the lip-tongue intercourse for saliva grabbed my glass n ran into the kitc
hen. Never came back. No need to go to the room where I was I thought.
As I closed my eyes for the last but first time – mark my words carefully – a beautiful slideshow of the best I have had so far flashed inversely on the inside of my eyelid. Then I saw myself controllable off the senses for the first time ever. Free from everything.
Next thing…
There are people around me enquiring my well being, discussing, staring, scolding, peeping, laughing – all kinds; short, medium, large – all sizes; greenish black, greenish dark, greenish black brown mix, greenish dark black – all but me in greenish blue. Those scenes brought dimple on my left cheek – recalled those stupid film makers who portrayed devatas fair, supremely gorgeous, clad with jewellery. As I was grinning I could sense something was wrong but could not sell till my heart by beating at 80>/ min and lungs pounding hinted that I was suffocating. Then felt future-fashock work on my nerves in the heavens as I saw shorts, goggles, skin tights and minis.
That’s when I hated my dayone@swimming.
No point in wearing the perception I was wearing I thought. If you see what I see, would go through the same … TRUTH …
The mankind’s greatest fear is TO COME FACE TO FACE WITH THE TRUTH. Every human being fears it. Indeed our greatest responsibility lies in hiding it from us. You know what, every time I ask myself what is it that makes you the happiest person on earth? I don’t even have to finish - comes the reply - How best one can stay devoid of the day-to-day happenings makes him/her that happier a person. After all who would like to put their naked bones to the display? I really don’t know how many of you reading this felt like that or gave it a thought, what’s the big deal, but how many would make their hands count is what makes the difference?
If words can change the world, for that matter a person, I would not be doing what you were reading.
That very moment I hated that I was merely trying to blame what ever I come across rather than finding the real cause. Or was I doing it intentionally? If so why? Don’t know? So is there a solution? Don’t know?
Have to change the world on the whole -> to do that have to start it with myself. Cracked the first clue in the truth-hunt then what …? … Was on from dusk till dawn … finally…
Desperate measures for desperate times.
Only one – make the reference point to itself – an infinite lo
op – think that you are the whole world – simple – isn’t it? Or appears so? Then the solution would be …. What …. Suicide – yes, kill yourself - what better way than that is there to redeem you from everything – erase yourself so that the world would never come to know that you even existed.Then the options kept pouring like politician’s unstoppable, never-materialize, promises during an election campaign. Ctrl+c / Ctrl+v
in progress …Was too soft with myself I thought …
Then …
Sensing the lip-tongue intercourse for saliva grabbed my glass n ran into the kitc
hen. Never came back. No need to go to the room where I was I thought.As I closed my eyes for the last but first time – mark my words carefully – a beautiful slideshow of the best I have had so far flashed inversely on the inside of my eyelid. Then I saw myself controllable off the senses for the first time ever. Free from everything.
Next thing…
There are people around me enquiring my well being, discussing, staring, scolding, peeping, laughing – all kinds; short, medium, large – all sizes; greenish black, greenish dark, greenish black brown mix, greenish dark black – all but me in greenish blue. Those scenes brought dimple on my left cheek – recalled those stupid film makers who portrayed devatas fair, supremely gorgeous, clad with jewellery. As I was grinning I could sense something was wrong but could not sell till my heart by beating at 80>/ min and lungs pounding hinted that I was suffocating. Then felt future-fashock work on my nerves in the heavens as I saw shorts, goggles, skin tights and minis.
That’s when I hated my dayone@swimming.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Guess who?
It was another hectic day at office. Came to room at 12:30 AM. Not getting sleep so thought of doing something. Recalling that I did not bathe that morning went inside my stinking bathroom… Towel on... As I switched on my 60 watt bulb it roared at me. Flickering. Was finally up n staring down on me… Took 1 min to eye my soap... Got into my birthday suit. As I turned my shower knob in the anti-clock wise direction felt myself playing in the rain. For a moment silence has overtaken me. Silence everywhere. I am completely blank as if am at the entrance gate of the heavens.
My roomy with his phenomenal snoring capability brought me back to life. Started breathing. Immediately turned my shower knob in the clock wise direction.
The next thing see… she was shouting… running scared …panic everywhere… fear in her eyes… shouting something.
Then I tried hard to listen to what she was saying. Could not understand what she was trying to convene gave 2 ear buds a grand funeral and tried even harder.
Then I heard her voice…
Asking me…. who are you? How do you know about me?......
I turned sideways. Went to the other room where my friends were sleeping to check on the stupid tricks they play on me. Poor music system has not got up yet. Gets up at 6:00 AM every morning to blow my eardrums into pieces which it loves the most. Don know what have I done to it in my “poorva janma” (previous birth). Then I went back to bathroom to check on the taps. They are quiet either.
That scared the shit out of me.
Came to my bed convincing myself that I was just mapping onto something… Almost got convinced ….Then I heard the voice again.
Oh god! Now she sat right next to me.
Never got scared that much I was closing……
Then I heard her ask who are you? How do you know about me?
It was one Sunday afternoon I was in my 8th standard came home after playing cricket. Those were the days I used to feel like doing something new…summer holidays. My mom a superb cook I have (I will) ever tasted done with her lunch prep. Then I immediately washed my hands to jump on to my favorite aloo curry and charu Annam (rasam rice). I have never listened to my mom saying take bathe after playing. As I was enjoying my lunch my eyes fell on her. That was the time I used to long for that language as if a venture capitalist recognizes a growing market. It was new. Used to sit n watch whatever our cable guys, those days no channels were there, telecast. They used to play movies all day but Hindi movies only once on Sunday afternoons.
It was not a movie I watched for her.
But she … right now beside me shouting….
I thought she was damn ugly and would be a one movie wonder. She with her weird dress sense, those tiger skinned, zebra … can’t name likes, used to make me breathe harder as I can’t stop blasting at something I don’t like.
Now if I see her I have to make myself pay a visit to bathroom... Best things I prefer doing thereJ
After that she acted in a lot of crap movies but what I expected of her did not happen. As affairs are not a thing on mars to “filmi log “she too had many.
Of them keshu kumar…
A chef, a martial arts man n above all a big flirt in the industry. He too came a along way since then …One another revelation for the industry now a days… with his comic timing… an actor to bank on for average returns… things don’t happen as we plan…
He moved on with another buxom babe I mean married her becoming damaad to a yester year “romantic king”. That episode ends there.
Then I looked at her straight into her eyes. Her eyes in every possible way trying to find the person who is bothering her… looking ither uther…. Then I realized that I am invisible to her. How exciting being invisible right…Invisible… had I been one I would have helped our Indian cricket team win the world cup. Cricket… what an exciting game. Aussies man they are immortal so perfected the game that no one can even come close to them. After the performance of our Indians in recent past, I started shifting my interest to tennis… reason sania mirza... No qualms about it…But to tell you one thing about my old muse… used to like those over hyped edge of the seat exciting commentaries…
Here comes boycute
Rather than his tongue in cheek talk, satirical on some n partial to some dadas it was his muse over her I wanted to bring in to picture to try n let figure her out?
Why all this? Coz she is still shouting at me…
Then recently she went overboard I mean overseas to be a part of a celebrity reality show. What the hell is that? Ok no future shock… let me explain it clearly
There is this show hosted by some stupid channel where celebrities… there is a catch … those who currently have nothing else to do but to appear in every n any show just to make money… ultimate desire… got to accept… she represented our country India(some how cant get over this)…even surprising was she won that n got goodies back home.
This time she is at the peak of her anger... I can see it in her….
After that winning she got herself back n could capitalize on some offers too. God never stops chastening, does he? Now the entire nation … Hindu fanatics are up against her act… what is it?
Mr. gayer - who after his so many romantic (being formal) encounters on screen got older. Don’t need any more I guess. Not that he chose but destiny planned so…, kissed her on stage in public. According to our Hindutva keepers, sacred guards of our culture, this displaying act of awareness was
so displeasing that they wanted gayer to be extradited n wanted an apology from her….
Now that she is crying….
As I woke her up in the middle of her sleep, let alone made myself a responsible idiot to give her another blow on the wound shut down my system by publishing my next one
My roomy with his phenomenal snoring capability brought me back to life. Started breathing. Immediately turned my shower knob in the clock wise direction.
The next thing see… she was shouting… running scared …panic everywhere… fear in her eyes… shouting something.
Then I tried hard to listen to what she was saying. Could not understand what she was trying to convene gave 2 ear buds a grand funeral and tried even harder.
Then I heard her voice…
Asking me…. who are you? How do you know about me?......
I turned sideways. Went to the other room where my friends were sleeping to check on the stupid tricks they play on me. Poor music system has not got up yet. Gets up at 6:00 AM every morning to blow my eardrums into pieces which it loves the most. Don know what have I done to it in my “poorva janma” (previous birth). Then I went back to bathroom to check on the taps. They are quiet either.
That scared the shit out of me.
Came to my bed convincing myself that I was just mapping onto something… Almost got convinced ….Then I heard the voice again.
Oh god! Now she sat right next to me.
Never got scared that much I was closing……
Then I heard her ask who are you? How do you know about me?
It was one Sunday afternoon I was in my 8th standard came home after playing cricket. Those were the days I used to feel like doing something new…summer holidays. My mom a superb cook I have (I will) ever tasted done with her lunch prep. Then I immediately washed my hands to jump on to my favorite aloo curry and charu Annam (rasam rice). I have never listened to my mom saying take bathe after playing. As I was enjoying my lunch my eyes fell on her. That was the time I used to long for that language as if a venture capitalist recognizes a growing market. It was new. Used to sit n watch whatever our cable guys, those days no channels were there, telecast. They used to play movies all day but Hindi movies only once on Sunday afternoons.
It was not a movie I watched for her.
But she … right now beside me shouting….
I thought she was damn ugly and would be a one movie wonder. She with her weird dress sense, those tiger skinned, zebra … can’t name likes, used to make me breathe harder as I can’t stop blasting at something I don’t like.
Now if I see her I have to make myself pay a visit to bathroom... Best things I prefer doing thereJ
After that she acted in a lot of crap movies but what I expected of her did not happen. As affairs are not a thing on mars to “filmi log “she too had many.
Of them keshu kumar…
A chef, a martial arts man n above all a big flirt in the industry. He too came a along way since then …One another revelation for the industry now a days… with his comic timing… an actor to bank on for average returns… things don’t happen as we plan…
He moved on with another buxom babe I mean married her becoming damaad to a yester year “romantic king”. That episode ends there.
Then I looked at her straight into her eyes. Her eyes in every possible way trying to find the person who is bothering her… looking ither uther…. Then I realized that I am invisible to her. How exciting being invisible right…Invisible… had I been one I would have helped our Indian cricket team win the world cup. Cricket… what an exciting game. Aussies man they are immortal so perfected the game that no one can even come close to them. After the performance of our Indians in recent past, I started shifting my interest to tennis… reason sania mirza... No qualms about it…But to tell you one thing about my old muse… used to like those over hyped edge of the seat exciting commentaries…
Here comes boycute
Rather than his tongue in cheek talk, satirical on some n partial to some dadas it was his muse over her I wanted to bring in to picture to try n let figure her out?
Why all this? Coz she is still shouting at me…
Then recently she went overboard I mean overseas to be a part of a celebrity reality show. What the hell is that? Ok no future shock… let me explain it clearly
There is this show hosted by some stupid channel where celebrities… there is a catch … those who currently have nothing else to do but to appear in every n any show just to make money… ultimate desire… got to accept… she represented our country India(some how cant get over this)…even surprising was she won that n got goodies back home.
This time she is at the peak of her anger... I can see it in her….
After that winning she got herself back n could capitalize on some offers too. God never stops chastening, does he? Now the entire nation … Hindu fanatics are up against her act… what is it?
Mr. gayer - who after his so many romantic (being formal) encounters on screen got older. Don’t need any more I guess. Not that he chose but destiny planned so…, kissed her on stage in public. According to our Hindutva keepers, sacred guards of our culture, this displaying act of awareness was
so displeasing that they wanted gayer to be extradited n wanted an apology from her….Now that she is crying….
As I woke her up in the middle of her sleep, let alone made myself a responsible idiot to give her another blow on the wound shut down my system by publishing my next one
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
1 :oN tsop
India
What comes to your mind first?
Democracy
Gandhiji – freedom movement
Unity amidst diversity
Culture
Ramayana/Mahabharata - Epics
………
Who got this straight and in-order has to be in the museum. That’s the place for the dead & precious (classified ...), isn’t it?
Ask anybody, for that matter any kid just out of the womb, the same question (?) see what you get.
Sharukh /Amitabh?
Ash – abhi
Superstarts
Movies
Cricket – can they win worldcup? (Still hoping?)
Laloo – Sonia - politics
Hype – myth – uncertainty – fanaticism – regional feeling – this feeling that feeling … no one really ever dare tried to count it...
Those who got the above right, God! Breathing... Am alive …, Belong to India. The land of many, belongs to us yessssss us Indians (goose flesh ... need to switch off AC), we are so proud of, are we? Why?
….Reasons aplenty
When do we open our hearts? When do we stop our conscience take the back seat (need to bring in small, one seater)? When do we talk the talk, oh! Have freedom of speech … to talk to the dead? When? When? When basanti when?
… Want to give a try at this? …… don even dare attempt to…
Is there anybody who does not fit in the above 2 categories? Don’t look at me…. God save you? Atheist? Pick one.
Hey this is my 1st one. Dedicating this to those Indians who have inspired (irritated :-) me to start one... bug you in the next.
What comes to your mind first?
Democracy
Gandhiji – freedom movement
Unity amidst diversity
Culture
Ramayana/Mahabharata - Epics
………
Who got this straight and in-order has to be in the museum. That’s the place for the dead & precious (classified ...), isn’t it?
Ask anybody, for that matter any kid just out of the womb, the same question (?) see what you get.
Sharukh /Amitabh?
Ash – abhi
Superstarts
Movies
Cricket – can they win worldcup? (Still hoping?)
Laloo – Sonia - politics
Hype – myth – uncertainty – fanaticism – regional feeling – this feeling that feeling … no one really ever dare tried to count it...
Those who got the above right, God! Breathing... Am alive …, Belong to India. The land of many, belongs to us yessssss us Indians (goose flesh ... need to switch off AC), we are so proud of, are we? Why?
….Reasons aplenty
When do we open our hearts? When do we stop our conscience take the back seat (need to bring in small, one seater)? When do we talk the talk, oh! Have freedom of speech … to talk to the dead? When? When? When basanti when?
… Want to give a try at this? …… don even dare attempt to…
Is there anybody who does not fit in the above 2 categories? Don’t look at me…. God save you? Atheist? Pick one.
Hey this is my 1st one. Dedicating this to those Indians who have inspired (irritated :-) me to start one... bug you in the next.
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