Of Chick Love and Nirvana…

I have always been sort of a chick magnate. Twenty three suicides were reported on the day I got married but several NGOs put the unofficial number at anything between 4000 and 10K (if you include damsels who took an oath of chastity on that day).  I have significantly tuned down my charms since marriage (so as not to offend the love of my life) but childhood love is hard to forget. So, the chick which left indelible impressions of love on my being when I was all but two, returned to claim back her love. And return did she with vengeance and has filled my face, back and arms with love bites. The wifey thinks it is chickenpox but she doesn’t know my history with the fairer sex. If I go to office with all these love bites, it will cause a scandal. So, I have taken a seven day leave from work and am spending some quality time with my childhood crush.

This is perhaps the first time since I joined the corporate prison that I have seven days of contiguous peace where I am not supposed to go to the mall or the hills with the ‘baby’ and the baby. On day 1, I thought maybe this time in seclusion will lead me to life changing  revelations, make me appreciate what I have, make me a better person (though being already perfect, I don’t know how that can happen). I will pen down a book titled ‘The Stud who overcame CP and attained Nirvana’  (mom says the word should not be spoken. Lord Voldemort has some competition). And after binge watching Amazon Prime, Set Max and IPL for three days,  having  learnt each and every dialogue of the movie ‘Suryavansham’ by heart and being madly in love with Gal Godot, I can proudly say, Nirvana is just around the corner now.

You may deposit Rs, 1250 in my account HDFC00000003788 IFSC 0044, for advance booking of my book.








Raping the Metaphor

A lot has been said about Salman Khan’s insensitive comments comparing his travails during the shooting of the movie Sultan with the ordeal borne by a raped woman. The Indian media was quick to pick up the story but forgot that it was their own journalists who were laughing at the press conference after Salman’s comments. Everyone from my kaamwali bai to my boss seems scandalized by Bhai’s comment. And while I do not condone the comments made by him, I have often heard people around me (myself included) using rape as a metaphor for anything that goes wrong!

Mathematics during graduation was tough. It was made even tougher by some professors who took sadistic pleasure in setting such difficult papers that it was almost impossible to score. And after the exam, we, young boys studying in the best engineering college in the country, would exclaim, “Rape ho gaya, yaar!”.

Cricket in India is almost like a religion. So, the final and deciding one-dayer between India vs South Africa had me all charged up last October. Centuries by De-Kock, ABdV and Faf meant that the next day at office, I was left exclaiming,  “Kya yaar, kal toh rape hi ho gaya”.

Germany thrashed Brazil 7-1 in the Football World Cup semi-finals. It was almost like a gang-rape.

This is what the Urban Dictionary has to say :

Rape: To utterly defeat another person in any form of competitive activities.
Example: Dude, I totally raped your ass during that last game of Age of Empires.

Salman Khan, being a public figure, should have exercised more caution while making that statement but rather than criticizing him, we should first look inwards.


Kahin Toh……..

Kahin to.. kahin to
Hogi wo,
Duniya jahan tu mere saath hai..

Jahan mein, jahan tu,
Aur jahan, bass tere mere jazbaat hai,
Hogi jahan subah teri,
Palko ki, kirano mein,
Lori jahan chand ki,
Sune teri baahoin mein..

Jaane naa kahan wo duniya hai,
Jaane naa wo hai bhi ya nahi,
Jahan meri zindagi mujhse,
Itni khafa nahi..

P.S. Plan to get back to blogging soon. Get ready for the most mind-blowing crap I always dish out. 😀

For now, couldn’t get this song out of my head. So posting it just to remind you I still have the same awesome taste. 😛

Also, I realized leaving a comment is so much pain sometimes. You have to read the complete shit, decipher hidden meanings, come up with your interpretation, admonish the author for his stupid ideas pretending to like the post at the same time. And then they ask you to enter the captcha and everything. So, I will simplify it for you. Please no need to leave any comments. You can now directly contribute to my Savings A/c No. 0008290018920.

With a heart full of malice

Waiting to drink from the holy chalice


Coming Back To Life

I met her on the stairway to heaven

And thought that I’ve already reached

And there began

My descent to Hell.


I loved her from the bottom of my heart

And she became the reason of my life

And there began

My march to Death.


I saw her everywhere, in my thoughts, in my dreams

And in the air I breathed, the food I ate

And there beagn

My insomniac Dyspepsia.


I bought a vial of cyanide

And her love my love no longer holds her captive

And here begins

My road to Freedom.

A Cynic’s Diary II

A lot , I repeat, a lot has already been said about Baba Ramdev and his fast-unto-death (or party ticket,eh?). From SRK to Salman, Sagarika Ghosh to Arnab Goswami, Facebook to Twitter, people have described it as a mere political gimmick, an act of rare patriotism, Gandhi 3.0  et al. If you do not support his mission, then you are tagged as unpatriotic, cynical, upper-class snobs etc etc. But then this is a cynic’s diary and I don’t give a damn about what people say (except ofcourse your valuable comments. :D)

I, like most Indians, agree in principle with both Anna and Baba Ramdev. The black money stashed in Swiss bank accounts can almost single-handedly solve the problem of poverty in India. Also, there should be more stringent laws to see it to that the money, if ever, brought back from these accounts actually reach the people and do not land back in Swiss Banks, albeit under different account holder names. So far so good.

My problem is with the method. Remember Kirori Singh Bainsla, the Gujjar leader, most famous for blocking railroads for getting reservation for Gujjars for almost every post, from peon to Prime-Minister (for himself). Remember Potti Sri Ramulu, the man behind formation of Andhra ( I am not saying that carving out smaller states based on language etc was a bad idea but the process has continued unterminated….JaganMohan Reddy). Isn’t this fasting-unto-death in presence of media limelight akin to those protests? Holding the state to ransom?

It is all so nice to compare this fasting method to the one adopted by Bapu but there is a basic difference. There was no democracy at that time. But now, we are a fully democratic republic. If Baba Ramdev has a problem and thinks that only he can save this nation, he should contest an election by all means, get elected and then present a bill in the Parliament to bring change. What Anna Hazare (post World Cup) and now Baba Ramdev (post IPL) have done is setting up a bad precedent. You want something, tell media channels that you are fasting-unto-death, go to Jantar Mantar, sit on a Dharna…..etc etc. I am not saying that all people who do so get their demands fulfilled but it is certainly worth a try. Don’t be surprised if tomorrow Mr. Bainsla is seen using a similar ploy, or if some Telangana supporters go on a fast.

I, to some extent supported Anna Hazare’s case but Baba has diluted the seriousness of the issue.

Some of the demands of Baba Ramdeva are ludicrous and some of those are the ones that the government has shrewdly already agreed to.

Engineering and Medical education in Hindi. As an engineer, from self-experience, I can say that it was pretty tough understanding a few concepts even after referencing several books from world-renowned authors. But then, Hindi is our mother tongue and we have a rich collection of Marathi books on Brillouin zone.

Abolishing Rs.1,000 and Rs.500 currency notes. I think this one has more to do with health rather than corruption. People carrying large bundles of money should make them stronger. Nice move.

Replacing the British-inherited system of governance, administration, taxation, education, law and order with a swadeshi alternative. Dear Baba Ramdev, please clearly state what this desi alternative is. Raja, Maharaja and all…..mazaa aayega. Or the swadeshi system where the male is all powerful and the females are mere puppets. Or the Varna system as there was during Ram Rajya.

Ensuring that all citizens declare annually their incomes. Yea, the government doesn’t want to do that cuz otherwise there will be a lot of tax-collection and Income Tax Officers would have a lot of work to do and the government is an ever so considerate employer.There are ways by which this can actually be done but suggest those ways rather than just sitting there and doing Alom-Vilom.

Jiska kaam usi ko saaje

Dooja kare to bandar laage

A cynic’s diary

Saturday, April 9,2011

I know how great it is, a victory of the democracy, of the people, of their resolve, determination, courage, blah blah blah. India’s own Tahrir square. Oh, we even did a candle march, a million candles nationwide maybe, is that some sort of a record? Kailash Kher was fantastic.

We were just waiting for a hero to come and unite us all, it was Dhoni a week ago, this weekend it is the new Gandhi. For all you know, Kalyug is over, Kalki is finally here.

How can you say that, it is our country he is doing this for…..if you can’t do anything, at least don’t spread negativity….we the youth of the nation have a responsibility……..

Yes, Anna’s cause was a worthy one without doubt. Yes, he has once again demonstrated the power of Gandhian methods. Yes, he has shown what the public can achieve by active participation in the democratic process. But questions remain.

Corruption is not something that we Indians were/are unaware of. It is, so as to say, ingrained in us…..runs in our blood….like an inheritance, father to son. I myself never appeared for the driving license test, just paid 500 to an agent and got my license at home in 7 days…..3000 for the passport…..brokered a deal for 80K for my niece’s admission in a public school. How many of us have paid 50% of the challan money to a traffic police inspector when fined for some offense? How many of us were ready to pay 10K for a 250 rupees ticket for the Indo-Pak WC semifinal match? The media made it a point to showcase the various Bollywood stars marching for a cause. But are they themselves blamefree? IT raids at Priyanka and Katrina’s homes in the recent past makes me believe otherwise. The corporate bigshots were also duly interviewed expressing their firm support to the people’s movement while Anil Ambani was busy in another interview with Public Accounts Committee (PAC).

मोमबत्तियां जला लो चाहे जितनी
अँधेरा यूँ ही कायम रहेगा
दिलों में कालिख है जब तलक
भ्रष्टाचार यूँ ही फैला रहेगा

We must understand that to weed out corruption, like any other disease, we must start at the grass-root level. Chetan Bhagat in his own renowned (read idiotic) manner said, “Mera Neta Chor Hai”…..but he and we all must accept that “us neta ki junta bhi chor hai”. No doubt that the likes of Lalit Bhanot, Suresh Kalmadi minted money in the CWG scam, but some companies must have paid them the money. And who runs those companies? People like you and me, our parents, our neighbors.

Do you promise that you won’t pay that donation money to get your child an admission? Do you promise that you won’t give a tenner to the peon to put your file on top? Do you promise….well, you may but someone else might not.

In India, population is the biggest facility.

Good Night

P.S. Barkha Dutt’s tweet sums it up for me: Remember the anti-politician rage post 26/11 & then the low voter turnouts? This time changing the system must include taking part in it.

MISS J….. (from the archives)

Author’s Note: Well, I know this one is hell similar to aru’s recent post about antz…….still bear wid me…..as for aru, b4 filing a plagiarism case, just consider that I am ready to pay royalty…so all comments (I mean brickbats, dats all wat I get….) on this post are dedicated to u….nd a treat at KNAGS promised…………………..

As I entered my room last afternoon after another gruelling session of four block lectures (I slept through most of them inspite of Kundu’s “hunkaars” and BSP’s bherification of the hard “diks”. I don’t have a grudge against block lectures as such but just that you have to change your sleeping position every hour. can’t they place all the four lectures in the same room. I tell you guya, IIT management sucks….) followed by such sickening food that sometimes I get a feeling that we all are just a part of some research work that IIT is carrying out clandestinely to develop “biological” weapons of mass destruction (Anyways, this is highly classified intelligence information, so please don’t leak the news else US might cancel the N-deal and Left would be left with nothing to do. Actually I like to see the embarassed look on my recently married cousin’s face as I ask him the headlines in the morning and he hides his face behind the newspaper reading “HONEYMOON OVER, MARRIAGE CONTINUES”.), I found a “Uromastyx hardwickii”, aka lizard or gecko, or our very own chhipkali (remember those stupid childhood riddles, “ek kali jo kabhi nahi khilti”) enjoying her (I’m as such not sure about her sex but I spent around half an hour analysing him/her from different angles and positions, switched on my lights, then switched them off, tried blocking the sunlight, which nature has so bountifully bestowed on my room, but to no avail. (Actually sunlight is one of the main reasons why I go everyday to attend the lectures, as I can no longer sleep in my room after 7.) But when it comes to perseverance and dedication, I am never found wanting. So I tried reading all lizard encyclopedias on Internet, but may be because of the recent feminist movement in lizard community, no discrimination was made between males and females. Still, me being me, I called up one of my friends in AIIMS and asked his views on this matter of national importance. Following his advice, I hunched down and tried to see her lower body, I mean the underside to check, what my learned friend chose to call, her/his contours. But maybe he had forgotten that I am in IIT and if contours were the sure-shot method of distinguishing between the wiser and the fairer sex, then you bet IIT has 100% reservation for boys. Anyways, I finally called up my driver (He has often told me anecdotes of how he used to pick the rats and lizards by their tails and enjoy himself (such a sadist, or was he being a masochist)) and asked him the same perplexing question which the brightest minds in IIT and AIIMS had failed to answer. He gave me a suggestion to take a pen and roll her/him over. Well, i am not exactly lizardo-phobic but playing rock and roll with a lizard is not exactly my idea of fun. So being a feminist (actually I m not. Who the hell ever thinks over such topics. just that it sounds kewl saying so to girls….), I decided that he/it was a she.))(I hope the parenthesis are balanced. May be I should first compile this article before posting) siesta on my bed.(I hope this qualifies as one of the longest sentence ever, or else the shortest paragraph).

I don’t remember I had ever put up a notice inviting room-mates to share my loneliness. But here she was, lying on my bed, her slender tail curled around in a seductive manner and I decided may be a little company would do me no harm. Hold on guys, before your imagination runs wild, let me clarify that I tried stomping my feet as loudly as I could, but when even Metallica blastin’ at full volume from my modest speakers could not disturb her, I decided to accept her as a roomie just to keep my ego satiated. Having accepted her as my new room-mate I decided to christen her Miss J (yes dear, it’s MISS not MRS). Though I had made all my efforts to get her up had fallen on deaf ears, still now as she was my room-mate, I decided to let her enjoy her sleep, put off the music and went to have a bath (Yeah, sometimes I do. Just for a change. I hope it doesn’t develop into a hobby or addiction). Bathrooms are an integral part of hostel life, though generally they are used for other purposes (minimum twice a day) than bathing (which is kind of a religious ritual performed once a week). With the onmi-un-present shower cap missing in all the three bathrooms, I decided to borrow a bucket from GMAT. As I approached his room, I saw a distant cousin of Miss J dozing off in his room as well but mercifully on his computer table. Anyways, I didn’t get the bucket, instead GMAT gave me a shocked look (as if I had accused him of shaking hands with Sanjay Dutt) saying “saale ********* abhi parso hi to nahaya tha, tabiyat to theek hai. Aur tune mujhe samajh kya rakha hai, main khud auron se maang kar nahata hoon”. The day before….just two days…and again I was thinking of bathing…..well not willing to become the laughing stock of the hostel, I gave up my bathing plans and went to the bathroom. After half an hour, when I got back to my room, Miss J had perched on my window enjoying the scintillating panorama (scintillating……yeah, the garbage dump below my room does look scintillating when compared to the condition of my room). With Minors just round the corner, I decided to ignore her for the time being and started studying one of the five sucking mathematics courses I am doing this year (see how innocently i have tried to pass on the information that I am doing five MAL courses this semester, in order to gain those respectful awes from you….i tell you, we IITians are the biggest sucking egoists…..), but she had different intentions. Seeing her darting around the room chasing mosquitoes (which again the nature has so bountifully bestowed upon this humble being’s room), her sleek artistically carved body clinging to the walls, as she effortlessly glided as in free space, I couldn’t concentrate on why a compact set in a Hausdroff space needs to be closed. Who the hell can?? So with due respect to Hausdroff and Kundu, I decided to close the book and rather concentrate on miss J only.

During weekends, when I invariably find myself at my home watching BABA RAMDEV’s stomach-churning-ballet-dance (what Baba does with his stomach, shakira does more elegantly with her hips…someone go show him the video….) with my dad, I always think who the hell actually follows what he preaches. But in my new room-mate, I found a true bhakt of baba ramdev (just to digress, Ramdev always reminds me of Mahesh Bhatt….both can’t keep off their asses from any matter, be it Indian cricket team or Emraan’s kissing spree…). With her hind legs (I don’t want to offend my lizard readers, but I wasn’t sure whether the front two limbs are called hands or legs…..) holding her firm, she was precariously (for me) attempting a “sheesh-otthan aasana” with her body and front legs hanging in free space defying all laws of gravity. Being a firm believer in Newton and Murphy’s laws, I quickly got off my bed, and positioned myself to be in a position of minimum risk in case….with my eyes focussed on her every movement. Her two black eyes, her “V-shaped” mouth,……awwww……it gives me a creepy feeling even wriiting this…..anyways the day passed off almost uneventfully, what with me always on the guard, with my door open, and stupidly sleeping on my chair rather than my bed (I was just being a little accomodating, in case she again felt like having a little nap). One of the main reasons why by the time I finally decided to go to bed around 2 in the morning with an aching back, I held her in high esteem is that she almost single-handedly ate all the mosquitoes in my room ( almost single-handedly…..cuz by now, the mosquitoes have got so accustomed to ALL-OUT that they rather like its fragrance). Given her kind act, I felt maybe we could enjoy a symbiotic relationship, so I decided to open the window to replenish the supply of mosquitoes in my room, but seeing another gecko on the outer window, I felt maybe over-eating would ruin her health. Anyways, I hadn’t been asleep for more than half an hour when a crawling sound awoke me. Miss J was now slowly moving on the window grill. For a moment, I thought that she is hot on pursuit of another mosquito (all so that her room-mate could sleep peacefully) and suddenly felt proud of her. I can tolerate mosquitoes but the constant “khash-khash” sound, ahhhh…gawd…..so I again got up and started watching her acrobatic genius (may be she can get us a gold medal in the next olympics. Ever since Chak De, everyone believes that only girls can do it).

(as always, to be contd………God knows when…..)