The Libero had oil leaking out of its front forks.
The Pulsar looked tempting.
After much deliberation that encompassed a variety of rational and irrational enquiries, Thallu decided it's time to take a stand. Not self assured of his biking prowess, Serial Killer (S.K. here on) waited in patience for Thallu's expert decision.
The Pulsar roared in to life. Thallu drove majestically into M.G. road. Once we reached there, we were basically running back and forth the entire stretch of M.G.Road trying to figure out where Mr. Pai had set up his famed "Pai Dosa" kada. After quite a few tries we finally resigned to the fact that Pai had closed for the day.
Thallu knew where to get food at 12:30 in the night. So it was decided that dinner was going to be non-veg.
We had two decent sized shawarmas. I must also add that much of the chicken tasted like flavored pieces of vulcanized rubber.
It was during this time I brought to our attention that we needed to buy Mr. BulkVoice and Mr. Bengalluru something to drink. Since this street food place was a bit distant from the House it was decided that we will buy the drinks from somewhere on the way. Meanwhile, the shawarma had done the trick. Mr. S.K. decided it was time he tried out the pulsar. After a few initial hiccups with sorting out the gear shift, S.K. was riding like Schumacher possessed by Valentino Rossi.
"Kaiyil license undodey?"
Mr. Thallu's abrupt and oddly timed question swept in to S.K.'s fantastic world of bad boys 4 like a tsunami. And, along with that, it changed the course of the modern world as we know it.
S.K. halted the bike to a stop. Waited for an explanation from Thallu as to why exactly you were not supposed to ride a bike on a Kochi street at 1 am in the morning without a license. Upon receiving proper explanation, Mr. S.K. promptly got down and offered the helmet to Mr. Thallu. Everything was perfect.
What do we know..!
A rickety '80s jeep comes to a stop behind you. The khaki clad Mr. Purushothaman ( Purushu for all purposes) alighted and behind him another sidekick that we do not wish to reveal the name of, basically coz we don't know.
The baritone voice cut through the descending mist like a katana through green bamboo.
"Enthanu paripadi?"
"Onnumila saar.". Thallu replies in words dripped in pseudo respect.
"Ahha..vandi aarudetha? Aaranu oodichathu? License undodey?"
"Enteyaanu saar. njaan aanu saar oodichathu. License undallo saar.". Thallu retorted.
S.K. prefers to keep silent.
"Bookum paperum oke undo? ingu eduthe."
Thallu and S.K. spends 15 minutes searching for the paper of a bike that Thallu had claimed barely 5 minutes back was his. Talk about convincing acts!
After some struggle the documents are wrenched out. Boldly written on the laminated piece of crap is "Owner of Vehicle: Harigopal"
Now, that is some wonder.
Thallu and I make up many many explanations some of which were
a) We have shared ownership saar.
b) it is the company vandi saar. (purushu surprised)
c) company vandi enu vachal, company il orumichu vanapol orumichu eduthu vandi aanu saar. (All thank S.K.)
A string of questions follow after which Purushu deems it necessary for the vandi to be taken to the police station coz afterall, I quote,
"pulsar vandiyaanu etavum moshtikan elupam. orupaadu complaints varunnu."
Thallu does a thallu
"Saar, athinte ..eh ..avashyam undo saar ..eh"
S.K. almost closes his eyes coz he knows the chekitathu adi is coming.
Voila! It is not.
"nee anodey theerumanikunathu enthu cheyanamennu eh?"
"alla saar. paper ellam undu. kuzhapamonumila saar"
But Purushu had made up his mind that there was some Kuzhappam. Purushu the kidilam.
Purushu keeps at the show off. The sidekick interferes to convince him it's alright and to let us go.
At this point, God made Purushu do the worst mistake of his life.
Purushu utters obscenities and dismisses us with the words,
"ini ivide enganum kandu pokaruthu." (Have no idea what he meant by asking us not to ever be near M.G.Road)
Thallu gracefully accepts the papers back from Purushu and does a Mohanlal,
"Sir, enalum angine parayenda avashyamundo? Njangal thetonum cheythilalo!"
Purushu is visibly angry. Orders the sidekick to take the bike to Central Police station.
We are royally escorted in to the back seat of the Jeep.
Have to admit the feeling is awesome. It is almost like something happening that you knew would happen someday but not so (sooooo) soon in life.
Honestly, yours truly was a little worried that the night would be spent in jail. The scariest part was if Purushu would order us to be stripped in classic prison style.(S.K. wishes to admit that if that had happened, S.K. would have been in a pickle due to the non possession of certain vital clothing items.
S.K. was getting impatient. To the next exclamation from Purushu,
"alla..vidaam nu vicharichapol avan nyaayam parayunnu."
S.K. informed that Thallu is frustrated due to some work trouble and does not mean what he says.
The rest of the night went like scripted. Thallu got people from back at the House to produce the required documents to have our release ordered.
After the night's incidents, Thallu bravely proclaimed that he would be giving Purushu one "PANI" and that to that cause he would stop going out after 10 pm anymore.
S.K. says,
"Way to go thallu."
But nevertheless, S.K. wishes to laud Thallu's extreme sense of righteousness and the resolve to be never treated with disrespect. But I do wonder what would have happened if the people back at the House hadn't picked up his call.
I can already smell the wet rust on the jail bars :)
A night spent well, anyway.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Green Hopes
She trudged on, surrounded by the green darkness of wild shrubs and the canopy of giant trees.
She had my songs playing at her lips. I should have long given up pressing my point. But like an annoying friend I kept nudging at her senses.
For every step she took, she knew she had thousands she couldn't trace back. The feeling was growing on her. The knowledge that with every passing moment she was delving deeper into permanence was haunting, and now her sole motivation. To strip herself of alternatives, to see what it would be like to face inevitability and not have the option to choose a different way. She, now, was the woman she always wanted to be.
High hopes played on her pod. It had been playing for hours now and she did not want to change it. In her new found state of bliss, change was an unnecessary tool aimed at tampering with what is absolute. Things were perfect.
The smell of iron had masked every other odor in the air - of the damp earth, the rotting bark and that of the wild hibiscus she had on her hair. Wafting through the air, like an army sent on rescue mission they were all sabotaged by her own element.
As the gloom started creeping in to her beautiful eyes, she knew she had no use of them anymore. With a twist of the blade, she gouged them out and they fell to the ground below with the faintest of thuds one after the other. One. Two. Like a shore deprived of its sea wall, her nerves took in the cold slight breeze. It was like the first showers of a morning rain; I felt it best to tell her I'm here for her.
"You would not understand", she said to me.
I wanted to.
I called out to her again. Loud.
Sweet sounds of agony sieved out of her contorted lips. I took over her senses. It was my excruciating best.
She had cut the hibiscus at its base.
Lying on the damp earth, under the canopy of giant trees, she could tell she was surrounded by green darkness. I could not tell if her convoluted face hid a smile.
I left her to the woman she always wanted to be. To the eventuality, she wanted to confront without having the option to choose another way.
She had my songs playing at her lips. I should have long given up pressing my point. But like an annoying friend I kept nudging at her senses.
For every step she took, she knew she had thousands she couldn't trace back. The feeling was growing on her. The knowledge that with every passing moment she was delving deeper into permanence was haunting, and now her sole motivation. To strip herself of alternatives, to see what it would be like to face inevitability and not have the option to choose a different way. She, now, was the woman she always wanted to be.
High hopes played on her pod. It had been playing for hours now and she did not want to change it. In her new found state of bliss, change was an unnecessary tool aimed at tampering with what is absolute. Things were perfect.
The smell of iron had masked every other odor in the air - of the damp earth, the rotting bark and that of the wild hibiscus she had on her hair. Wafting through the air, like an army sent on rescue mission they were all sabotaged by her own element.
As the gloom started creeping in to her beautiful eyes, she knew she had no use of them anymore. With a twist of the blade, she gouged them out and they fell to the ground below with the faintest of thuds one after the other. One. Two. Like a shore deprived of its sea wall, her nerves took in the cold slight breeze. It was like the first showers of a morning rain; I felt it best to tell her I'm here for her.
"You would not understand", she said to me.
I wanted to.
I called out to her again. Loud.
Sweet sounds of agony sieved out of her contorted lips. I took over her senses. It was my excruciating best.
She had cut the hibiscus at its base.
Lying on the damp earth, under the canopy of giant trees, she could tell she was surrounded by green darkness. I could not tell if her convoluted face hid a smile.
I left her to the woman she always wanted to be. To the eventuality, she wanted to confront without having the option to choose another way.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Bend over bitch ! :D
Quite without any purpose, I dragged her lifeless body over the worn out rocks, some of which still had a cover of green. A while before I was driving down the street listening to "yellow", completely content with the way things were. And now, I'm a little less that content. The problem with life is, you are always told everything is for good, you believe it and when finally things do turn out good you feel they were right; and then, just then, everything flips.
I wonder what she felt. It is not everyday that you bend over to pick your glasses and get run over by a freight truck. She had few expectations in life and so you'd think maybe its not as bad as someone very ambitious getting killed. But the bitch that life sometimes is, getting killed is never justified. Those would be heavy moments; You read about accidents everyday in the paper and you think its horrible. Then one day, you take a walk down the road to the grocer next corner. Your eyes water 'coz there is so much dust in the air. You swear to yourself 'coz you forgot to take tissues with you. Then, luckily, you see the end of your hanky sticking out of your coat pocket. You thank god, take the hanky and try to wipe off the moisture under your eyes. In the process, you twitch the leg of your specs and they fall by your side on to the empty road. You bend over, grab a corner of the hanky and look sideways 'coz you know you heard a sound. You see a vehicle approaching and you know you'll be hit and you know its going to be a lot of blood. You curse your luck and brace yourself for the pain. You want to close your eyes but it's not happening yet. Another second maybe, but not yet still. But now it's too close and you curse yourself for not pulling away before. You give up everything there. There is no angel coming, there is no miracle happening. You hear the screech of the tyres on the road 'coz the driver braked. And in that moment, the final one, you still hope it stops in time. Thud.
You'd have probably lost track of the thread. But this is me, the one you should've wondered who. I'm the one who designed this. To tell you, how simple everything is really. All the fuss is about nothing. I'm the one who's dragging her lifeless body over the moss grown rocks. And beyond that point there, I'll slip. The current is strong and I'll leave with the tiny whirls. And before I be dead, I'll drink the blue water and I'll see the sky above me. And before I give in to the want of screams, I'll know life's been good, simple and uncomplicated.
I wonder what she felt. It is not everyday that you bend over to pick your glasses and get run over by a freight truck. She had few expectations in life and so you'd think maybe its not as bad as someone very ambitious getting killed. But the bitch that life sometimes is, getting killed is never justified. Those would be heavy moments; You read about accidents everyday in the paper and you think its horrible. Then one day, you take a walk down the road to the grocer next corner. Your eyes water 'coz there is so much dust in the air. You swear to yourself 'coz you forgot to take tissues with you. Then, luckily, you see the end of your hanky sticking out of your coat pocket. You thank god, take the hanky and try to wipe off the moisture under your eyes. In the process, you twitch the leg of your specs and they fall by your side on to the empty road. You bend over, grab a corner of the hanky and look sideways 'coz you know you heard a sound. You see a vehicle approaching and you know you'll be hit and you know its going to be a lot of blood. You curse your luck and brace yourself for the pain. You want to close your eyes but it's not happening yet. Another second maybe, but not yet still. But now it's too close and you curse yourself for not pulling away before. You give up everything there. There is no angel coming, there is no miracle happening. You hear the screech of the tyres on the road 'coz the driver braked. And in that moment, the final one, you still hope it stops in time. Thud.
You'd have probably lost track of the thread. But this is me, the one you should've wondered who. I'm the one who designed this. To tell you, how simple everything is really. All the fuss is about nothing. I'm the one who's dragging her lifeless body over the moss grown rocks. And beyond that point there, I'll slip. The current is strong and I'll leave with the tiny whirls. And before I be dead, I'll drink the blue water and I'll see the sky above me. And before I give in to the want of screams, I'll know life's been good, simple and uncomplicated.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Memoirs of a post-high school guy
I'd have loved to tell you that I'm being watched. But I'm not. And right now I'm overwhelmed with joy. I'm listening to "tu hi mera" by Mithoon; new one on the charts. It feels like a long forgotten vapour lamp has set off somewhere inside me. The kind of joy that you get when you sit in the orange light of an incandescent bulb and listen to tracks that remind you of your high school sweethearts; and all those things that have happened between you.
The fight over pencils that led you to touch her precious skin for the first time and the way time froze for a few seconds while your eyes locked and you tried to look alright though you perfectly knew inside that nothing would ever be the same.
The time when your teacher made you sit alongside her in class as punishment for making paper planes under the bench while the class was going on; and the way you wished she doesn't catch you looking at her face.
And the most popular one: the first time she acknowledged your existence and smiled at you. That one tops the list.
The time you first talked; the way you tried to come up with something to say every time it seemed the conversation was getting over, just to keep talking to her.
Me: "Oh, you live there?"
She: "yeaahhh." (about to turn her head towards the girl behind)
Me: "aaha. Um and lets play? Whats your favorite color? You've a pet?"
She: "Okay. let's play."
Me- Proudest guy in the world.
The day when she asked you to comb the hair to the left and you promptly came hair combed to the left next day, she smiled and the whole class went "He's in love with her.". Loser? Like I care. I ruled the day.
How you would get your dad to drop you off at school early every morning afterwards 'coz you could then search under the tables for pieces of paper that read "FLAME: SHARAN, SRUTHI"; and how you would then proudly take in the news that you and she were becoming an "item" in class.
And this last one, my special one: How I resisted a thousand times shagging 'coz just then I had remembered her and it would amount to blasphemy going on with it. If you are a guy you'd know how difficult that is :) particularly proud of that one though I'm not sure why I should be.
Basically I'm just looking to enhance the number of posts here. I don't feel nice about this post. I think it's just colorless overall.
The fight over pencils that led you to touch her precious skin for the first time and the way time froze for a few seconds while your eyes locked and you tried to look alright though you perfectly knew inside that nothing would ever be the same.
The time when your teacher made you sit alongside her in class as punishment for making paper planes under the bench while the class was going on; and the way you wished she doesn't catch you looking at her face.
And the most popular one: the first time she acknowledged your existence and smiled at you. That one tops the list.
The time you first talked; the way you tried to come up with something to say every time it seemed the conversation was getting over, just to keep talking to her.
Me: "Oh, you live there?"
She: "yeaahhh." (about to turn her head towards the girl behind)
Me: "aaha. Um and lets play? Whats your favorite color? You've a pet?"
She: "Okay. let's play."
Me- Proudest guy in the world.
The day when she asked you to comb the hair to the left and you promptly came hair combed to the left next day, she smiled and the whole class went "He's in love with her.". Loser? Like I care. I ruled the day.
How you would get your dad to drop you off at school early every morning afterwards 'coz you could then search under the tables for pieces of paper that read "FLAME: SHARAN, SRUTHI"; and how you would then proudly take in the news that you and she were becoming an "item" in class.
And this last one, my special one: How I resisted a thousand times shagging 'coz just then I had remembered her and it would amount to blasphemy going on with it. If you are a guy you'd know how difficult that is :) particularly proud of that one though I'm not sure why I should be.
Basically I'm just looking to enhance the number of posts here. I don't feel nice about this post. I think it's just colorless overall.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
YO + "chillies" = "Chellis" ?? !!
I got back home half an hour ago. I had gone for this much hyped malayalam movie called "Red Chillies". I'm not so sure now though, 'coz the director apparently reckons it is "Red Chellis". I'm not even gonna guess where he did his schooling from.
The film opened with a lot of noise. All that the hapless guy on screen was doing was making a call. And there was this background score like the universe had just banged in to life. The main protagonist, a 50 year old veteran who looks more like a barrel than human, storms in to the screen and delivers a flurry of dialogues in english and leaves in slow motion as the title of the film comes alive on the screen. "Red Chellis".
What immediately followed could be described as "a lot of snap shots of pot bellies of what seemed like women who were definitely not hot". This seems to be an epidemic all across the Indian film scene. Film makers want to make it spicy 'coz the spicier it is, the better the box office run. But somehow they miss the point that showing an assembly of navels of every female they have on the set is not hot. It is disgusting, it is sick and most of all it suddenly makes me understand how absolutely pathetic these people are. I'm all for watchable skin show. But this was like a W.H.O. documentary on ill-fed aborigines of a famine stricken wasteland somewhere along the coast of tristan-di-cunha.
This director would easily pass for a genuine idiot and he wouldn't even need to pretend for that. The fight scenes are even more astonishing and breath-taking. Honestly, I'd sit and bear it if an average built guy is shown jumping over a car or truck. But seriously, how can you be preposterous enough to actually think the audience would be dumb enough to sit and watch and believe the 50-something actor execute moves Bruce Lee couldn't in his prime.
This post is an impulsive response to Shaji Kailas and his shit movie "Red Chellis". Again man, what were you thinking...."Red Chellis" !!
The film opened with a lot of noise. All that the hapless guy on screen was doing was making a call. And there was this background score like the universe had just banged in to life. The main protagonist, a 50 year old veteran who looks more like a barrel than human, storms in to the screen and delivers a flurry of dialogues in english and leaves in slow motion as the title of the film comes alive on the screen. "Red Chellis".
What immediately followed could be described as "a lot of snap shots of pot bellies of what seemed like women who were definitely not hot". This seems to be an epidemic all across the Indian film scene. Film makers want to make it spicy 'coz the spicier it is, the better the box office run. But somehow they miss the point that showing an assembly of navels of every female they have on the set is not hot. It is disgusting, it is sick and most of all it suddenly makes me understand how absolutely pathetic these people are. I'm all for watchable skin show. But this was like a W.H.O. documentary on ill-fed aborigines of a famine stricken wasteland somewhere along the coast of tristan-di-cunha.
This director would easily pass for a genuine idiot and he wouldn't even need to pretend for that. The fight scenes are even more astonishing and breath-taking. Honestly, I'd sit and bear it if an average built guy is shown jumping over a car or truck. But seriously, how can you be preposterous enough to actually think the audience would be dumb enough to sit and watch and believe the 50-something actor execute moves Bruce Lee couldn't in his prime.
This post is an impulsive response to Shaji Kailas and his shit movie "Red Chellis". Again man, what were you thinking...."Red Chellis" !!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Pavakka Payasam
“And I stand at the gates of her home. She would be walking down that stone pavement anytime now, flashing that smile of hers. The pavement isn’t important. Her smile is. Her smile, the reason for all that is in existence-the reason why the sun shines, the reason why there are roses and violets and the sole reason why there is Christmas. In the bigger picture, I wasn’t so important either. All that ever mattered was her smile, really. She was the beautiful woman. Saying she was the most beautiful woman would be comparing her with others. That would be criminal. Period.
Anna is the woman you love anyway. You don’t find reasons to love her. She walks past you and before you could open your mouth and show how much of a loser you are, half your soul would have gone away with her and you would lose your breath and choke on your heart that would already be half way up your throat. Looks could kill. No seriously, yeah.
Let me now get back to my own loser self. I’m not a loser by choice. I’m a loser by design. Some would argue that it just means I’m a guy. It actually means a lot more. It means I love Anna. It means that I get to see her every day of my loser life. It even means that I get to secretly fantasize making out with her. Just so you know, we’ve done it 17 times. And the last time we were at it, she said I’m cute. If I rolled up my sleeve, you’ll see I still get goose bumps. Losers so rule!”
End of Dream. I get up, and am instantly surprised that I’m alive.
When you are travelling all the way from Pune to Trivandrum in a dingy second class coach of a Jayanthi Janatha trudging along the outskirts of Andhra, feeling lost becomes a routine you follow morning to evening and far into the sleepless nights. But that is also when you remember you had a life before all the stress of higher education had set in. I remember a time when I used to look forward to a three day journey on the Coromandel express to Calcutta with my family. That was the time I had to worry about impressing the new girl in class. Anyway, once you are off the borders of Kerala chances are that you’ll find yourself mostly in places where there is like one palm tree for each acre, lots of rocks and lots of hitherto unnamed hills. And weirdly enough, it turns me in to a romantic.
So this time, as I was sailing across the arid deserts of Andhra that weird romantic possessed me again. Looking around I mostly found bipeds that kept talking “blah blahh blu bli bloua!”. That is hell of a lot of perspective we are talking about. So, disappointed at having no one to take myself out on I resorted to thinking.
Remember that feeling of overwhelming happiness at the sight of your crush in 6th grade? Yeah, that was pretty much the only emotion I had for the rest of the journey. Let me clarify, Hunger is not an emotion. And to spice things up, I was reading Chetan Bhagat’s “The three mistakes of my life”. The first para that said about Vidya cranked me up to the point that I could actually create imaginary girls to fall in love with. Thankfully, someone I met a year back saved me all the trouble. Oh, it is a she. 10 years back I wouldn’t have had to add that info. Thanks to the developing world.
Frooti is like a really big gulab jamun( I’m not trying to be funny. It is not funny. She just happens to feed on frooti a lot). She oozes sweetness. And you will excuse me for actually trying to convince you that a girl can ooze sweetness afterall. She is the girl who actually makes me want to go out at night and check if her blanket is covering her feet. Of course that would also bring into the equation the Gurkha who guards her locality and his 12-inch long knife. If I ever had to buy lollipops for someone, it would be for her. In proper filmy style I could visualize her standing beneath every palm tree that was there, smiling, the dupatta of her yellow-something churidhar trailing in the wind by her side. No it is not Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Ghum. It’s Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander for me. I should also confess the unsettling truth that I did see myself running behind the trees in slow motion singing “Pehla nasha…”. It was bizarre even for my standards.
I still had bipeds behind me talking away in bushmen language like there was no tomorrow. Really, there was nothing better I could have done. I am often accused of being a polygamy man. I don’t know why. It can’t be because I feel attracted to too many women at once. That really isn’t a plausible one. Now her birthday is coming. Last time I gave her a wicked surprise and it was filmy too. Somehow I’ve got in to the habit of taking standards from mushy Hindi films and improving upon them.
At one point of time I had saved up to 2000 bucks just so that I could make a grand proposal. Turned out, she was already chauffeured. And the arse that romanticism makes out of people, instead of spending that money on hoodlums to get the antagonist’s anatomy researched, I spent it on CCD bills. Oh yeah, their bills cost a lot. So one year and 2000 bucks later, I found solace in the age old philosophy,
“If the grape costs a lot, it probably is sour.”
At 3 in the morning, sleep deprivation can do strange things to people. The pleasure’s been mine.
Anna is the woman you love anyway. You don’t find reasons to love her. She walks past you and before you could open your mouth and show how much of a loser you are, half your soul would have gone away with her and you would lose your breath and choke on your heart that would already be half way up your throat. Looks could kill. No seriously, yeah.
Let me now get back to my own loser self. I’m not a loser by choice. I’m a loser by design. Some would argue that it just means I’m a guy. It actually means a lot more. It means I love Anna. It means that I get to see her every day of my loser life. It even means that I get to secretly fantasize making out with her. Just so you know, we’ve done it 17 times. And the last time we were at it, she said I’m cute. If I rolled up my sleeve, you’ll see I still get goose bumps. Losers so rule!”
End of Dream. I get up, and am instantly surprised that I’m alive.
When you are travelling all the way from Pune to Trivandrum in a dingy second class coach of a Jayanthi Janatha trudging along the outskirts of Andhra, feeling lost becomes a routine you follow morning to evening and far into the sleepless nights. But that is also when you remember you had a life before all the stress of higher education had set in. I remember a time when I used to look forward to a three day journey on the Coromandel express to Calcutta with my family. That was the time I had to worry about impressing the new girl in class. Anyway, once you are off the borders of Kerala chances are that you’ll find yourself mostly in places where there is like one palm tree for each acre, lots of rocks and lots of hitherto unnamed hills. And weirdly enough, it turns me in to a romantic.
So this time, as I was sailing across the arid deserts of Andhra that weird romantic possessed me again. Looking around I mostly found bipeds that kept talking “blah blahh blu bli bloua!”. That is hell of a lot of perspective we are talking about. So, disappointed at having no one to take myself out on I resorted to thinking.
Remember that feeling of overwhelming happiness at the sight of your crush in 6th grade? Yeah, that was pretty much the only emotion I had for the rest of the journey. Let me clarify, Hunger is not an emotion. And to spice things up, I was reading Chetan Bhagat’s “The three mistakes of my life”. The first para that said about Vidya cranked me up to the point that I could actually create imaginary girls to fall in love with. Thankfully, someone I met a year back saved me all the trouble. Oh, it is a she. 10 years back I wouldn’t have had to add that info. Thanks to the developing world.
Frooti is like a really big gulab jamun( I’m not trying to be funny. It is not funny. She just happens to feed on frooti a lot). She oozes sweetness. And you will excuse me for actually trying to convince you that a girl can ooze sweetness afterall. She is the girl who actually makes me want to go out at night and check if her blanket is covering her feet. Of course that would also bring into the equation the Gurkha who guards her locality and his 12-inch long knife. If I ever had to buy lollipops for someone, it would be for her. In proper filmy style I could visualize her standing beneath every palm tree that was there, smiling, the dupatta of her yellow-something churidhar trailing in the wind by her side. No it is not Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Ghum. It’s Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander for me. I should also confess the unsettling truth that I did see myself running behind the trees in slow motion singing “Pehla nasha…”. It was bizarre even for my standards.
I still had bipeds behind me talking away in bushmen language like there was no tomorrow. Really, there was nothing better I could have done. I am often accused of being a polygamy man. I don’t know why. It can’t be because I feel attracted to too many women at once. That really isn’t a plausible one. Now her birthday is coming. Last time I gave her a wicked surprise and it was filmy too. Somehow I’ve got in to the habit of taking standards from mushy Hindi films and improving upon them.
At one point of time I had saved up to 2000 bucks just so that I could make a grand proposal. Turned out, she was already chauffeured. And the arse that romanticism makes out of people, instead of spending that money on hoodlums to get the antagonist’s anatomy researched, I spent it on CCD bills. Oh yeah, their bills cost a lot. So one year and 2000 bucks later, I found solace in the age old philosophy,
“If the grape costs a lot, it probably is sour.”
At 3 in the morning, sleep deprivation can do strange things to people. The pleasure’s been mine.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The curious case of Pattabhi Raman
I first heard about the black hole in 9th grade. Then I heard a little more in 10th. And practically nothing in high school. But that is not really important. So let's switch.
I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Am I a manager?"
I got no replies.
"Do I look like one?"
-shhhh-
"Could I act like one?"
-shhhh-
Finding peace thus, I quietly went off to the other room and shagged to my heart's content watching Cytherea squirt like the washer went loose on a Kirloskar pump. Mad woman. Oh and even she's got a husband, who, I hear, is NOT working in the porn industry. Could he be any ball-less.
Oh that makes me think; "lingam" in our vernacular means a guy banana. Niiicee.
Crap. I had a fone call. Now its too late to think up more crap. I'm bored of this anyway.
I'm a giant squid. I'm a blue whale. I'm a shoe lace worm. I'm also a jellyfish.
I can work up a caterpillar's father. I can even sing a song to the flies upon the green cheese. I can hoot and laugh. I can even open my mouth and let out the wilder beast. But I won't. I hate showing off.
I am I am. That is fictitious grammar. Fluid loss can lead to fatigue and even coma. How about a fullstop? A semi colon? No. Fluid loss can't help you with that. For that you'd need a pen; with a refill. Black or blue doesn't matter. Paper also you should have. The green light on my speaker is blinking. I hope it isn't a time bomb about to explode when the song ticker comes round a full circle.
I am sorry that you are inconsequential. It is not your fault. It is your fault. Paradox? Don't get me started on that.
Maggot's don't feed on lions. Nor lionesses. They feed on cheetahs and tigers. Ever wondered why? Because clubs without an "l" is cubs and cubs, my friends, are small small lions.
Good day to you all.
I, Pattabhi Raman, love you all except you Leelavati. You bitch!
I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Am I a manager?"
I got no replies.
"Do I look like one?"
-shhhh-
"Could I act like one?"
-shhhh-
Finding peace thus, I quietly went off to the other room and shagged to my heart's content watching Cytherea squirt like the washer went loose on a Kirloskar pump. Mad woman. Oh and even she's got a husband, who, I hear, is NOT working in the porn industry. Could he be any ball-less.
Oh that makes me think; "lingam" in our vernacular means a guy banana. Niiicee.
Crap. I had a fone call. Now its too late to think up more crap. I'm bored of this anyway.
I'm a giant squid. I'm a blue whale. I'm a shoe lace worm. I'm also a jellyfish.
I can work up a caterpillar's father. I can even sing a song to the flies upon the green cheese. I can hoot and laugh. I can even open my mouth and let out the wilder beast. But I won't. I hate showing off.
I am I am. That is fictitious grammar. Fluid loss can lead to fatigue and even coma. How about a fullstop? A semi colon? No. Fluid loss can't help you with that. For that you'd need a pen; with a refill. Black or blue doesn't matter. Paper also you should have. The green light on my speaker is blinking. I hope it isn't a time bomb about to explode when the song ticker comes round a full circle.
I am sorry that you are inconsequential. It is not your fault. It is your fault. Paradox? Don't get me started on that.
Maggot's don't feed on lions. Nor lionesses. They feed on cheetahs and tigers. Ever wondered why? Because clubs without an "l" is cubs and cubs, my friends, are small small lions.
Good day to you all.
I, Pattabhi Raman, love you all except you Leelavati. You bitch!
Monday, January 19, 2009
The post after Forever
People are going to murder me for writing this. But hey, heck!
So let me start with saying that it’s been like forever since I last posted something. And between then and now a lot of things have happened in my life. Some very significant, some not so and some I don’t know in which class to put.
The first major thing that happened was of course the by-pass surgery that my father had to undergo. There are too many details involved which I don’t want to pour forth again, having done so with a thousand hundred relatives already. But, trust me, it definitely wasn’t happy times. Especially when you are told your father might need a minor check up and in twenty minutes that is revised to a “not-so-minor heart surgery”. Anyways, he’s fine and kicking now. That’s all that matters really.
Oh, but in the process, during the two week camp at Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences, I got to help a baby out and it was just so awesomely overwhelming when the dad called me up on new years’ eve. To the critics, who’ve over the years been desperately trying to convince me of the lacking of a heart; Oh yeah! I do now ..!. Suck on that.
The other major thing that happened was the whole CAT fiasco. Nothing important happened if you could oversee the teeny weeny fact that I completely and totally made a mess of it. I better not elaborate.
Then there was the new year’s. And it was okay. Oh and one nice guy, a numerologist or the sort, told me that I’d been having a bad time for two years now and that 2009, apparently, is MY year. Hurray! Hurray! Now I realize why I screwed up two years of my life, IT WAS SO FRIGGIN’ WRITTEN! Yeah.
Then there was the Ms. Interactomics who made another seasonal appearance and stole my thunder. She’s this Kite I once had and was lost one not-so-fine windy day. And after relentlessly pursuing it for a thousand billion years I finally gave up. And now that I had given up, I’m running in to it almost every time I step out. So now I have it naggingly close, and I push for it again. Unsuccessful I retire. And the vicious cycle continues. How happy times!
Now the good things:-)
My sister and two friends of hers came to stay over at my home for two days. Always fun with girls around:-)
Oh and the single best thing that happened to me: I got my license. It took me four years, three learners’ licenses and almost 7000 bucks. But, who cares. I got rid of my “learners” tag that I really was worried will stick for all eternity. Yahoo..!
Good times …..here I come. Oh, oops. I almost tripped on You. Muhahaha …!
So let me start with saying that it’s been like forever since I last posted something. And between then and now a lot of things have happened in my life. Some very significant, some not so and some I don’t know in which class to put.
The first major thing that happened was of course the by-pass surgery that my father had to undergo. There are too many details involved which I don’t want to pour forth again, having done so with a thousand hundred relatives already. But, trust me, it definitely wasn’t happy times. Especially when you are told your father might need a minor check up and in twenty minutes that is revised to a “not-so-minor heart surgery”. Anyways, he’s fine and kicking now. That’s all that matters really.
Oh, but in the process, during the two week camp at Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences, I got to help a baby out and it was just so awesomely overwhelming when the dad called me up on new years’ eve. To the critics, who’ve over the years been desperately trying to convince me of the lacking of a heart; Oh yeah! I do now ..!. Suck on that.
The other major thing that happened was the whole CAT fiasco. Nothing important happened if you could oversee the teeny weeny fact that I completely and totally made a mess of it. I better not elaborate.
Then there was the new year’s. And it was okay. Oh and one nice guy, a numerologist or the sort, told me that I’d been having a bad time for two years now and that 2009, apparently, is MY year. Hurray! Hurray! Now I realize why I screwed up two years of my life, IT WAS SO FRIGGIN’ WRITTEN! Yeah.
Then there was the Ms. Interactomics who made another seasonal appearance and stole my thunder. She’s this Kite I once had and was lost one not-so-fine windy day. And after relentlessly pursuing it for a thousand billion years I finally gave up. And now that I had given up, I’m running in to it almost every time I step out. So now I have it naggingly close, and I push for it again. Unsuccessful I retire. And the vicious cycle continues. How happy times!
Now the good things:-)
My sister and two friends of hers came to stay over at my home for two days. Always fun with girls around:-)
Oh and the single best thing that happened to me: I got my license. It took me four years, three learners’ licenses and almost 7000 bucks. But, who cares. I got rid of my “learners” tag that I really was worried will stick for all eternity. Yahoo..!
Good times …..here I come. Oh, oops. I almost tripped on You. Muhahaha …!
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