Sunday, December 16, 2012

स्त्रीलिंग Facebook!!!

As a single guy I have a lot of time to spend online especially on Facebook. It is a magical site where you can spy on everyone’s life and make sure you know every aspect of him or her.

Sometimes I imagine that I will find the perfect girl online and we will have a perfect relationship and fall in perfect love. However every single time I log onto Facebook, I see the same bunch of women who make my perfect dream disappear. As a gift to my fellow single men, I present to you a guide on the types of women you will encounter on Facebook.

The Disney

This woman will have absolutely no photos of herself. All her photos will be of Disney princesses or random actors. She may put up an Edward Cullen photo and you realize that she is the spawn of Satan. There will be no photos of her. Most of her albums consist of photos of friends or random photos in which 45 million people have been tagged. You will never see her face. If you chat up with her she will speak with you but behind this shrouded veil that other humans refer to as a photo of Selena Gomez. You really wish she puts up more photos so you can catch a glimpse of her but it seems like her face does not exist at all. No matter how hard you try you will never ever see how she looks in real life, but the mere fact that she likes Selena Gomez gives you enough reason to at least purchase a few Cyanide capsules before you meet her.

The Hipster

The Hipster will only use Instagram and put up random photos of dead animals or quotes from authors who you’re pretty sure don’t exist. She will reblog posts and share images that are as abstract and fake as her.

Most of her photos will have her roaming around in random nature based surroundings. Every photo will have been methodically edited and will also come along with an accompanying lyric tag from a band nobody has ever heard of it. In fact most of the times the band will be formed after the lyrics have been read. She will post quotes and philosophy. Kafka, Nietzsche, Freud, she knows them all but the moment you ask her about common things like Hindi music or terrible movies, she will change the subject to more ‘intellectual things’.

The Hot One

OMG. She is so hot. There is no way she will ever be with you. Never. She is way out of your league. She makes your league look like the Sri Lankan Premier League. There is only one thing that you can do… Right Click and Save Image for later use.

The Pretty One

The pretty one will have some of the most beautiful profile photos. Photos that make you stare and fall in love. Everything is perfect except her grammar. Every photo has a terribly spelled caption which ends in a heart (<3) . Half of the times she manages to spell that wrong also.

She will spell great as gr8 and nice as nyc. She will refuse to spell any word correctly or even show some inclination to read the dictionary. Even a decomposing pigeon will type out a better sentence then her. Now you have to make a decision. Does your penis like her or does your brain like her?

The Hogger

The Hogger will take as many photos as she can to prove to the world that she exists. She will take 45 million photos in 1 second and upload them all simultaneously. She will constantly update her Facebook status telling people about how she is eating food and how she is crapping it minutes later. She will then takes photos of her posing near her poop and upload them to an album called ‘Summer Poop ’. She will post every 10 seconds on your wall making you believe that she has no friends or family. As much as you ignore her, you cannot ignore her digital presence. She will like your every photo and share your ever post. She will be the sole reason for deactivating your profile.

The Limited Recluse

She will never come online. She will have only 3 photos that have been uploaded, out of which 2 have been put up by her friends and one by an application that she accidently accessed. She will not post on your wall or reply to any posts. She will not update her status. She will have somewhat of a limited profile and refuse to be friends with anyone. Technically speaking her profile is in a vegetative state. Sooner or later, the good folks at Facebook will euthanize it.

The Ugly One

She is ugly as hell. Heck even Hell is prettier and hotter than her. Yet she is always hanging around pretty women and hence you have her as a friend with the secret hope in mind that one day when you comment, one of her pretty friends will find you humorous and add you as a friend.

The Perfect One

The perfect one will be the one you desire. She will be pretty, smart and she's your best friend. She will talk to you whenever you want. Never disappoint you with her replies and will be the perfect one for you. She is the girl of your dreams and is the perfect person to talk to whenever you’re bored. However each one of them comes with an extra appendage called a boyfriend. Secretly you wait for her to break up with him but you know it will never happen. You however go on with the rest of the crowd liking her photos hoping she sees the love in the multiple likes that you give her posts and comments. She never does.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Random At 4AM

Mumbai 'not just a metropolitan' city.. Its Moree... You see variety of specimen starting their stories early morning.. For some, its starts at late night already

Mumbai is a strange village. Sweating goes hand in hand with breathing. Its either Hot, Hotter or Hottest in this part of the Planet. So in a way, its always hot, its just the degree you need to measure for.

For the record, about 70% of Mumbai’s population lives in slum and the remaining 30% complain about harsh living conditions. Interestingly, poverty adds to the equation. It is like the most glaring cosmopolitan feature but somehow gets camouflaged by people’s never-say-die attitude..

Its 3 Paragraphs already.. Thats it. I have nothing more to speak of Mumbai, More than what pops up in my insomniaced disturbed mind at 3AM, that is wondering why isn't it cold already. Its December, For Gods Sake.

Half my blogs are about Mumbai.. It makes feel like Hank Moody, who blogs about California.
The only 2 differences being, Hank Moody is paid.. Me? Nada.
AND Hank Moody is fictional from Californiction.
Im Real... Like a Real Number.

Neway, This Post... aint about Mumbai though..
This post is merely an attempt to get rid of the sleep deprived insect in me.. and get me some sleep.. So its basically going to be a One Sided Conversation.

I'v been watching a lot of Sitcoms off late, during my exam preparation leave..

Cliche.. i know.

Does that make me a Loner??, because that would break the whole Socially Extrovert image of mine, that I wish to have for myself, just because i wish to fit in the society.
The Society comprising of, Cripples, Bastards, and other broken things. The Society i.e. Mumbai..

Maybe its all just a Camouflage, A Cover, A Lotta Shades above the Human Skin and Soul.. That I 'Think' completes me.
For Instance, if I were to classify my Shades... There would be many..
1) Obedient Son to my Father
2) Family Guy
3) Intellectual
4) Sir Knowsalot
5) Goody-two-Shoes
6) Charmer
7) Raconteurist
8) Metrosexual
9) RetroSexual

Exclude all 10 Shades,
Im Alan Harper, without the Unintended Humour..

So IF ONLY.. By putting up these layers of Pretence, Im best suited for THE SOCIETY..! I do not see a problem with that then..

NOW!! Accepting it on one hand, is Fine. It gives me Closure..

But questioning myself, for everyting thats ' + ' bout me, Something that till date, I thought were my 'Traits'. The Benefit of Doubt towards Self, is beyond Appaling, Despicable, Reprehensible and Mundane

So Im just gonna follow a common drill that calls for default solution when a conundrum like this, smacks you left and right.
When You dont wish to get rid of anything, You need to convince yourself that its presence is necessary..
I believe that all 10 shades are the reason why everyone glows around me. The reason why everyone feels secure and warm around me.. The reason why the daisies bossom, The reason why the skies are clear, The reason why the winters near. The reasom why the moon is up so high.. Like a Diamond in the sky.

P.S. - Reality Check can get Ugly.

Gunnite Folks..! Sleepwell

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Unambitious Martyr A.K.A Indian Women

27 november, 2012

*new girl walks in.*
*drinks water*
*starts running on the treadmill besides mine*
New girl: Hey.
Me: Hi.
Brain : Please just let me run.
NG: So how long have you been gymming?
Me: Two years in total. But this gym an year.
NG: Oh. I just joined.
NG: So what do you do?
Me: Mechanical Engineering.
Brain: I am not asking you any counter questions. Doesn't that make you realize I am more interested in running than talking?
NG: Great!
Brain : I don't think you are getting the clue. *stops running* Okay now let's talk.
Me: So what do you do?
NG: I "used" to run a boutique.
Me: "Used to" is a very sad phrase. Are you married?
NG: Yeah.
Brain: I don't think I can talk to you anymore.
Me: Why did you quit?
NG: I figured my family needed me more.
Me: Oh.
Brain: Right. Brb puking.
*leaves treadmill abruptly and starts doing the spinner.*

I refuse to have conversations or even stand in the vicinity of such a woman. Seriously? Stop making yourself believe that you stopped working or you stopped dreaming because your family needs you. Family needs especially your husband's can be very well met at night after work. "My in-laws don't let me work" is even a stupid-er statement. If only you had the zeal to work and be independent you would have inquired enough before marriage to make such a mistake.

One day when you'll be 40 and lonely with a 20 year old son who has already moved out and your are alone at home waiting for your husband to come home you'll know what I mean. He'll come, order around like he is the only one who works all day long because he can and you allowed him to.
Respect is earned.

And it sure as hell isn't earned by being dependent on somebody.

You did your share when you carried the baby for 9 months in your womb. You don't have to (or make yourself believe) spend your entire life at home looking after him/her like you are the only parent.

Dependency doesn't earn you respect. Maybe sometimes only rebellion does.

Monday, November 26, 2012


Because downloading paid apps is on the top of my list.
Because online shopping is suddenly cool.
Because after 17years of hating it I am suddenly a shopaholic.
Because my Phone is suddenly something I can't live without.
Because I have to fish for torrents every hour of the day.
Because Fifty Shades Of Grey/Indian TV has all of a sudden become bearable.
Because even with the anti-feminist angle Anastasia Steele is my role model.
Because watching every new show a minute after it's released is now my aim in life.
Because my love for books has been rekindled.
Because I have my birthday in 50 days and my next exam in 4.
And now you know.

You have been missed! Not.

P.S: In other news it was Justin's birthday today. And apart from the fact that it comes along with my Aunt(The Bitch). The fact that I gifted him nothing, made my really proud. :')

And because cakes aren't cool anymore (read: I am broke and calorie conscious at the same time). I still called him at 12:00 AM,
If they still count that as a good gesture.

P.P.S(If thats even an abbreviation): No More Posts till Exams. Maybee... then again... Maybe not.!!!


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Deepaw-Lee \m/

So Diwali's here. I know this because the photo-tagging frenzy on Facebook has begun, with me being in tagged in a million pictures of things that symbolise Diwali, such as diyas, crackers, light-bulbs, burn victims, the superiority of the Aryan race and so on.

As you can tell, I’m totally looking forward to this festival of lights, prosperity and violently choking to death on suspended particulate matter the size of cockroaches. Every time I breathe during Diwali, it feels like my lungs are being french-kissed by a dementor. This, of course, is a throwback to ancient times when Lord Ram returned victorious from Lanka and was welcomed with a traditional feast of anti-histamines.

And smog is a really bad idea if you want the goddess of wealth to visit your home. It must really mess with navigation. I can just imagine her circling over Mumbai for hours, before giving up and dumping all the cash at Antilla, because that giant space vibrator is the only visible thing around.

But that’s just grumpy ol’ me. Everybody else seems to be happy, and by everybody else, I mean the people who are not doing Engineering, who apparently have no exams in the coming week.. and the people in the “festive season” ads that come attached to your daily newspaper. You know the ones I mean – idiots gathered around toasters and juicers, sporting grins that scream straitjackets and padded walls. Seriously, nobody should look that happy about a toaster, not unless it can cure cancer and has the ability to spontaneously generate threesomes.

It’s not all bad though. Diwali is that once-a-year chance to catch up with neighbours and relatives, so that you can remind yourself why you only meet these people once a year. Some of these people will invariably be the ones setting off firecrackers at 6 in the morning. There’s an important cultural reason which allows them to do this, i.e. murder is illegal. If you can’t think of any such person in your building, then it’s probably you, in which case I implore you, on behalf of all mankind, to firmly sit on the tip end of an exploding rocket.

Speaking of homicidal urges and vapid consumerism, there’s Bollywood, with its annual Diwali Box Office Showdown, which, in this case, is ‘Son of Sardaar’ vs. ‘Jab Tak Hai Jaan’. JTHJ is the story of SRK falling in love with Katrina and Anushka, because all the other ladies he used to romance are, in Bollywood terms, deceased. Meanwhile, Son of Sardaar stars Ajay Devgn, a man best known for brushing his teeth with dirt. If you’re wondering which one to watch, flip a coin and before it lands, go jump in Traffic.

In other Diwali news, eminent lawyer and BJP MP Ram Jethmalani recently said that Lord Ram was a bad husband because he didn’t trust his wife – a statement that outraged nobody with more than two functional brain cells. However, it did cause a flutter amongst the BJP, and understandably so, because you can’t just say something like that when you belong to the BJP. That’s like being a part of the Corleone family and announcing that the Don loved to wear pink ballerina tights. It may be true, but nobody wants it said out loud.

And I don’t know about you, but if some random man took hostage of my Wife, for soo long, He defintly was not hunting someone to play UNO with him. I think it’d be perfectly reasonable to ask her to walk through fire. Yup. Totally. In fact, that agnipariksha was the world’s first recorded instance of Truth or Dare.

Having said all that, it is important that we hold on to Diwali traditions and celebrations, because somebody needs to keep buying Chinese stuff. I wish you all a very happy Diwali, and no matter what caste, creed or community you belong to, I want you to know that if you tag me in a stupid FB picture, I will eat your children. Cheers!

Indian TV

Traditionally, killing an average sized bison(or knocking out half a Dolly Bindra) Is best achieved by drinking enough alcohol, but since one rum and cola at a bar now costs an apartment in South Mumbai, this is difficult to do. The other option is to do hard drugs. But for one, that’s illegal, and more importantly, nobody wants to be the guy that has something in common with Fardeen Khan. Luckily I’ve discovered a third, relatively inexpensive way to get the job done; put on your TV.

Indian television is the stupidest thing on the planet right now. If George W Bush, Digvijay Singh, Rakhi Sawant and Masterchef came together to form a giant super-robot of stupidity, it’d meet its match if it tried to out-stupid Indian television. Stupidity isn’t a crime though; not making even a basic effort to be anything else is a straight-up felony. And Indian television makes roughly as much effort as an Indian man on his 25th wedding anniversary.

Idiot box: In spite of several channels, there is nothing worthwhile to watch on television

In an era where television around the world is growing in scope and ambition, often surpassing cinema in its drive to be art, Indian TV is the guy in the back of the classroom with his finger in his nose. Everyone else has moved on to bath-salts and shower-gel. We’re still dealing in soaps.

This week, During my 'Exam preparation time' Midst(LOL) .. I took some time off to relax, what i saw was not only disturbing to mind, but also im not gonna hav my next boner in a decade ATLEAST..
I caught an episode of one of those shows that comes on at 10 pm and looks like all the others that come on at 10 pm. And 9 pm. And 7 am. The sort of show in which men show up once every six days, and all the women dress like they’ve just come back from Bappi Lahiri’s coming-out party. I think the name of the show was Kya Aapki Badi Acchi Kasauti Ke Baarein Mein Log Kahenge Vadhu Smriti Irani or something. And I am not making this up.
In the show, the bahu (Hindi for “person who is about to have a relentless stream of miserable things happening to her”) discovered a bomb while the family was praying. Except the bomb was stitched into the bandhgala of a child in the family. So she took him outside, bit the wires off with her teeth and then flung the jacket over the side of a cliff. As if Indian girls didn’t have enough pressure on them, now they’re going to have to add “defuse detonator attached to C4” to their list of “Things to learn for marriage” list.

If a writer anywhere else in the world came up with that, you would have only one course of action; call Warner Bros and tell them that their Looney Tunes stinking skunk has escaped and has come to your office again. But we put this on TV. You’re thinking “Why not just change the channel?” Because it just gets worse. Changing the channel takes you to “youth channels” that used to be music channels that now run reality programming where half the cast looks like it’s on heroin, and the other half look like they deal it. Another change takes you to sports channels, whose idea of post-match analysis is Sidhu dancing with three cheerleaders to Halkat Jawaani. A third change takes you to English channels, which you can’t watch because they’re like the Fill In The Blanks section of every school exam ever come to life. “She said _____________ to that _________, that _______ ____ ______” is what most shows sound like, because apparently, if we heard somebody say the word “gay” or “nipple”, god would drop the entire west coast into the ocean.

In pandering to what we condescendingly call “the lowest common denominator”, our own content diminishes us. It reduces us to a collection of our worst tics and stereotypes. It blows my mind that we currently have more TV channels on air than we ever did in the past, but somehow, at the same time, fewer unique ideas than we did back then. We need better TV. We deserve less stupidity. Though at this point, it’d probably be easier, less painful, and more fun, to just legalise drugs.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Traffic Jam- The common deity to all.

We have a lot of festivals in India, all of which celebrate our myriad gods and goddesses.
Except Halloween, which celebrates the fact that you went to an IB school and then went abroad to study, only to return more annoying than ever before.
We have Navratri (or as they call it in Bengal, ‘Kahaani’) which celebrates the goddess Durga. 

We have Dussera, which celebrates the end of Raavana, and we have Diwali, which marks the time that Lord Rama ended his exile and returned to Vijay Sales for BEST EVER OFFER ON LCD TV (PLUS FREE DVD PLAYER THAT WILL EXPLODE WHEN YOU TURN IT ON FREE).

But in the end, all these festivals celebrate deities that lead back to one true god. Which got me wondering, who is this one true god? Surely, it would have to be an entity that represents something that all these festivals have in common. This has, in logical fashion, led me to believe that India’s one true god is the Traffic Jam.

It’s pretty charitable to call what we have “traffic”. Because the term Traffic implies that you have an orderly, but slightly large collection of cars that make travel slower than it should be. Ours is a bit more… apocalyptic. What we have is an unending sea of metal, gasoline fumes and lifestyle diseases. I can’t even describe our traffic as Brownian motion, because that would imply movement. The reason we don’t have an Indian version of 24 is because season one would just be hours of footage of Jack Bauer honking at people at Milan Subway.

Traffic Therapy: We spend so much time in traffic that it’s facilitated an entire retail industry of people who walk past selling you things, because they know you have the time

When I was a kid, nothing gave me greater joy than the evenings on which my parents said the five magic words “let’s go for a drive”. Drives meant ice-cream, cold-drinks, and cruising down Juhu ad Marine Drive with the windows down at the death-defying top-speed of 50 kmph that our Santro (and my mother’s blood-pressure) could handle. But that was then. Today, by the time traffic clears out enough to make driving a pleasure, (in South Mumbai, that’s 11 pm, in Marol, it’s 3987 A.D, when the sun goes nova and destroys Earth) it’s way past most children’s bed-time. If a child asked me to take him for a drive in 2012, I’d just knock him out and sell him on eBay. The only difference between peak and non-peak hours is that one has the word “non” in it.

Mumbai has an even odder problem. Do we have too many cars? Yes. Do people drive badly? Yes. But our roads make things worse. Mumbai’s roads look like somebody had an epileptic fit while playing with LEGO. Everybody in this city has at least once in their life crawled through traffic for hours, only to find that it’s been caused by nothing but a giant scar in the road that everyone had to slow down to cross. We spend so much time in traffic that it’s facilitated an entire retail industry of people who walk past selling you things, because they know you have the time to buy them. There’s a reason they sell you books, peanuts and cellphone chargers at signals; the three things form a survival kit. You know why Hindus invented re-incarnation? It’s because they know you’ll need two of your nine lives just to make it past Saki Naka.

If we had better roads, we’d spend less time in traffic. Not more roads, not new roads, just better-laid existing roads. Except we won’t get better roads, because these things are decided by politicians, people who don’t actually ever spend any time in traffic. This is why corruption annoys me; as a politician, you already get to travel in zero-traffic. You’re not allowed any more perks. You should have to worship at the altar of traffic, for it is our one true god. It exhibits all the properties of a good god; it is unmerciful, ever-lasting, and the number one cause of pointless violence. I want to move to the mountains and be an atheist now. I’m going to stop now. Because I think we may finally be moving. If I play my cards right, I may even get home today.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012


Boredom is the most happening thing on this planet... And I'm sure it is not restricted to humankind alone. Seen birds and animals doing nothing but trying to be still? Exactly! That's what I'm talking about.

As far as I know there are 24 hours in a day and out of these 24 hours, about one-third is spent on sleeping in its various forms. And that leaves less than 16 hours to "live".

So the real question is how much time is actually "lived" and not "bored". Now don't get into etiological pogrom and insist that even being bored is part of the grand scheme called living process.

Trust me, it's not.

Living is to be alive, not zombified. In fact, we shouldn't worry much about nuclear proliferation when boredom proliferation is a bigger and more immediate threat to our existence. That sounds like exaggeration, isn't it? No, not really.

Roughly put, boredom is like being in a quicksand; the only difference is you don't sink.
You are not aware when it strikes you but once you feel it, you want to escape it. Unless of course if you are working in an environment (read: Engineering) where there is no such thing as an Escape button.

And worse, if you are staying up completing your assignments during graveyard shifts where your eyelids are put to test almost every single night and very thin line is left between being bored and being asleep.
And then when you're caught napping on the desk, you exploit philosophy by saying "Eyelids are not meant to carry such burden of boredom!" and then you're promptly made to leave your classroom. Happens.

I love talking about my college, and all the vagaries attached that pass of as occupational shite.
But still, if given a choice, boredom is anytime a favourite against workdom. Not many come to college to study,
Most of them are here for Gals, Smoke, Booze, Beg, Steal, Break Stuff.. and if givenl an opportunity, they'll do All Of It, but Study. Any given day.
You don't have to be a communist to know this. There are millions of us who would rather be bored to death than studied to death. So you see, now people are ready to get bored given they don't have to be productive at the same time.

There are students(Like Moi) who hardly grind but stream videos online and spent time on social networking and Porno sites as if it will make our Score graph kiss the face of sky.

You should be studyin in my college(Lokmanya Tilak College Of Engineering) to know what different levels of boredom can do to your brain (or lack of it). Very few things may pique your interest when you're at the top of Mount Boredom.

But it's a good thing. Sometimes. Like you come up with stupid lines that you decide to tweet thinking, "Lo! There I break the code of this universe!" and then get back to fighting deadline. Under its spell, your mind is not completely dead and is gifted with the power of imagination. You think of better things in life than toiling for bread and butter – both of which you don't eat ANYMORE! But that's how it is. Everything gets boring after a while.

Pessimism seeps into your soul and wait for the day your stupid heart will get bored of creating its beautiful beat music.

People have this very pathetic habit of taking credit for things they have nothing to do with. They all go ballistic when they are bored as if they invented boredom. Take a break. Breathe. It was always here. We are just passing through.

P.S. Since you are reading this crap, I owe you something. The tripe above doesn't make sense. I know. I wrote it as I was bored and so thought of boring you too. Anyway, do you hear that? That's boredom talking in a deeper voice.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Digi Ramayan


Ram - Calm, composed guy. Teetotaler(Except when he tasted Vodka once out of peer pressure). One woman man.

Laxman - Hyper enthu guy. Too much respect for his brother. Wannabe hip-hop guy. His Facebook account reads his first name as “Laky” and last name as “Back with a bang”. However “Back with a bang” is definitely not his father’s name.

—————Forest cottage in Ayodhya , evening time

A livid Ram walks about the corridor of his forest cottage.

Ram: Man, How did this even happen? You said you had installed a firewall. What happened, did some windows update screw up something?

Laky : I’m not sure. Let me check the log. Well, she seems to have clicked some kind of malicious link.

Ram: What kind of link?

Laky : 3D deer screensavers. The firewall got broken and the door got opened. Somebody must have abducted her then.

Ram: 3d deer…I mean, how old is she, 8? Who clicks on spam these days?

Laky: Hey, thats the bhabhi you are talking about. Keep it chill bro.

Ram: Any leads on who could have done this?

Laky : I’m not sure bro.

Ram keeps thinking and walking about. He sits back and looks at his MAC running AyodhyaOS. He browses through Sita’s Facebook profile. Somebody had recently tagged her on their Friendship calendar. She had also liked a page “I hate those who don’t hate the I hate Ram” page.

No significant progress seemed to happen as hours seemed to progress. Laky was reinstalling windows on his other laptop as there was an issue with the boot sector. Suddenly the beep of an SMS emanated from Ram’s blackberry. It was from ICICAyodhya bank. It read “A credit card purchase of 24,276 has been made from your card. Offer, now housing loan limit increased for salary account holders”.

Ram: Hey, Looks like my credit card is with Sita and there has been a transaction made.

Laky : Let me check the statement. Hold on. It says the debit was made from Lanka jewelers.

Ram: where is that? Must be at Ranganathan street.

Laky : No. Its in Sri Lanka actually.

Ram: Oh. Must be the notorious Raavan who abducted her. Google Raavan right-away.

Laky: Yes.

*Lakshman googles Raavan

Laky: This is his twitter profile.


Sri LankaRuler|Veena player|Veda reader|Blogger|DSLR Photographer|Private jet owner|I steal hearts and other people’s wives


@juniorbachchan Daiiiiiiiiiiiii.

Load more tweets…


Ram: Hmmm. This must be the guy. The unscrupulous rat. Let’s kick-off some action from our end. Where is the monkey? Why don’t we send the monkey across to Lanka for negotation?

Laky: hey bro. That’s racist.

Ram: What’s racist?

Laky: Calling anybody a monkey is racist. I have seen it bro. They might ban you for like 4 test matches bro. (makes weird hand gesture showing the number 4)

Ram: That is racist?

Laky: Totally bro. Yeah. You can’t call anybody a donkey too. Thats racist too.

Ram: Can I call a donkey a donkey?

Laky: No no. That’s racist too.

Ram: Anyway, let us head-off to Lanka. Quick. Get the travel arrangements done.

Laky: How about we go down the road to the southern tip and construct a bridge from there? Huh, wont that be cool? Like an awesome roadtrip.

Ram(in a growling tone) : What is wrong with you? Just go to makemytrip.

Laky: Yeah. sure sure. Calm down(mumbles “Nobody wants to do the cool stuff”)

Ram: By the way, have you seen my adidas sneakers?

Laky: Yeah. forgot to tell you about that. Bharath wanted it as a souvenir in remembrance of you. But I just guess he was just stingy to buy his own gym shoes.

****At the International terminal

Laky: I wonder what his full name is. Must be something like UDRS.Raavan or DPDMP.Raavan.

Ram(gestures Laky to stop talking): I see something.

At a distance Ram sees a ten headed man wearing ten caps of the cricket teams walking down the terminal. Ram goes delirious with excitement. Laky stands up frantically. Both Ram and Laxman run towards the ten headed man.

Raavan: Before you hit me or something, I am really sorry. You don’t want to trouble a bankrupt man further.

Ram(in a threatening Hollywood hero tone, fists clenched) : What do you mean? Where is my wife?

Raavan: I mean your wife just drove me crazy man. I gave her my credit card and she just blew it up. She purchased so much jewellery that the card statement is the size of a 9 yards silk saree. Now I am so screwed and bankrupt.

Ram does not respond. He just stands calm, fists clenched.

Raavan: I mean my palace is still on EMI man. And I’m just a king. No onsite and stuff for me. I have already gone through so much in life. People have been making fun of my ten heads for long. Kids used to call me base 10 in college. Do you know how much I spend on shampoo and hair-dye? Insane man. And I get ripped off with flight tickets with their ‘per head cost’ rule. Abducting your wife was a mistake. Please forget and forgive this as if it were a bad windows bug where you click ‘dont send error report’. Your wife is waiting in the visitors room. Now if you will excuse me, I will depart.

Ram pats Raavan on his shoulder. Raavan shakes hand with Ram. Laky does a rap star like hi-five with Ram and Raavan walks off from the place.

---The End---

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Black And White.

There is no point in teaching darkness a lesson or two in racism. It won't understand.
In any case, almost every little thing under the sun has a grey shade, UNLESS you are in Antartica. Moreover, only penguins have the right to see things in black and white. That's also why they choose not to fly and play chess all day. No kidding.

But what's currently going on in Assam as well as Myanmar tells us that we are NOT living in a colorful age. Those on social media might beg to differ thanks to their over-dependence on Photoshop but lame jokes apart, racism is a grievous human shortcoming. Taking into account the way our stupidity appears now, our species may never rise above this narrow mindset.
Of course, there are moments when we get hope. For instance, when Usain Bolt stretches mankind's limits on the track and is loved by everyone, irrespective of their skin tone. No wonder he is the greatest racist of all time. Errrrr, I mean he wins race and all? OK, chuck it. On a serious note, how about Mario Balotelli hugging his foster Italian mother after winning the match? And there are many more examples—especially from the world of football because UEFA may have discarded the B&W patched footballs but Europeans are still mired in racism—where tears jerk and colors turn into celebration. Wish I was talking about Holi here but I'm not!
Iam a football loving adult, Even as a child, i was never a cricket-loving kid, But I was ignorant as well as racist (lethal combination), whenever my dad would watch cricket matches, as I felt all black people lived in a faraway nation called West Indies. But to compensate this notion, I used to discriminate against red ants and adored black ones. My Mom played a small but significant role in developing this psyche. She told me that black ants are good omen. I guess that's why I keep seeing these tiny creatures today even when they are not around.
Being from a country which literally gave birth to racism, I don't know what is politically correct. Because a majority of my country(wo)men wish to be fair. What they don't acknowledge is the fact that despite all their lightening products, they'll still be black folks with brown skin and whiter-than-Anushka Sharma's armpit. This is also the reason why irony dies a painful death when Indians accuse others of racism. But let's get real for a minute. Humankind is inherently racist. A few words, said or unsaid, won't change that.
On a more serious note, black isn’t the color of hopelessness. Hopelessness is too hopeless to have a color of its own, Nor is the term 'blackmail' Black.. it isn't. Fortuitously, unlike racism, racial jokes are always colorful.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

No News is Good News!

Disclaimer : No journalist or media-person was harmed during the making of this blog post.

You wake up everyday. I’m sure you woke up today, too. Once you are done with that, you get started with your routine. And one of the commonest human rituals is to read newspaper or to switch on the TV for news. (Unless you are one of those lucky people who are illiterate but content with their mundane ignorance!) Now, if your day begins with news, what does it say about you as a person? You are curious? Yup, always been. Want to stay abreast of current affairs? Great!

But what exactly do you do with all that you read and learn and watch presented under the garb of news? Nothing, in most cases. Following news is just another evolutionary practice inculcated into our daily life for knowledge’s sake. There is not much one can do about a majority of stuff out there on the paper or screen. So why are we so fond of news, be it good or bad? Because we are an entertainment-loving species and news is gossip presented in a very refined manner. As elementary as that.

On a personal scale, I relish half-baked truths. I have them for breakfast daily. The French in me calls it biscuit. They call it news. To add to the misery, I read something or the other every morning which tells me I should quit reading them. But I never do. In fact, the recent events revolving around Barkha Dutt, and the 2G scam... made me realize that even some of the oldest media giant might go down for news. Meanwhile, I’ve got no doubt that the world would miraculously change for the better the day we stopped reading newspapers. But then, even if I switched to TV, I’d still be hopeless. After all, in India, the thin line separating TV news from TV soaps is almost invisible now. And this has been the case long before India TV decided to put the media in comedian.

You see, there might be absolutely nothing out there to report but our media will beautifully turn it into news for gab-hungry masses. Anyone can create news out of thin air. If nothing else works, the media can report on the thinness of the air. [No, wait, the weather bureau is already doing that, aren’t they?] Moreover, watching news destroys a few of those newsworthy moments that could have been ours. Being the minions that we are, we’ll never know what is true and what is being reported as true. Unfortunately, rumours won't give up on news at any cost and vice versa. Fortunately, the spread of fire will never catch up with the spread of its news.

One lesson newspaper teaches us every single day – better not believe every crap you read. Times changes, perceptions changes and of course, news changes. Remember when they got Osama (at last) and how he got killed by breaking news? No one was allowed to see his face nor his dead body but we somehow managed to gulp the shoddy information of his demise. At that moment, the less you looked out for news, the more you’re convinced of the sheer wastage of time and energy.

And the hard part is when they collect too many viewpoints at once and make you look confused than a newborn dinosaur. Goes without saying, the plural of news is nuisance. As a part of social experiment, we should read last week's newspapers and ascertain its relevance in present day, if at all. Or not check news, at all.

You’ll never come across a channel which will go “We’ve got breaking news for you! Damn. We just broke it!” That’s the whole point. There’s hardly anything sacred about truth or news or journalism at large. I don’t mean to sound cynical but everything is commerce now-a-minutes. And the day each one of us is happy is the day news dies.

The Mumbai 'Local' Mob..

Mumbai is one of those cities where life moves faster than excuses. 

Every one is in a hurry. Here, we don’t have time for rationality about speed and deadline. 

We just work. We just do our jobs and move on to our houses for a good night sleep. 

That’s pretty much the case in almost every other metropolitan city, which is fueled by dreams and ambitions of gigantic proportion.

Mumbai is fast thanks to two reasons:

One. Coz of it’s local trains and other is the people traveling in it. They both compliment each other, pretty perfectly. 

The crowd and hustle-bustle that comes with these trains in Mumbai is a legend of sorts that can’t be ignored. People literally breathe into each other’s lungs with hardly the space to share fresh air. 

According to Wikipedia, more than 5,000 passengers are packed into a 9-car rake during peak hours, as against the rated carrying capacity of 1,700. Literally, that means, 14 to 16 passengers are standing on each square meter of floor space.

Now, imagine you are one of those 14 to 16 passengers stacked in that bogey and the train stops in middle of track. How do you feel? The answer is simple.
You are utterly frustrated, distressed and would want to break free. 

There could be hundreds of reasons for that train to stop there. It could be failure of signal or could be overlapping of time schedule thus creating a case of traffic. It could be anything but we forget a more occurring possibility there.

It could be due to a passenger who was hanging on the foot-board a while ago, but accidentally bumped into the passing steel structures or it could be someone who just slipped off the least of support he had.

It’s a mere coincidence that in a city of 14 million people, around 4000 people die due to accidents related to trains every single year.

I came across such incident just a week ago... when the train stopped abruptly on the 8-km distance track (which is the longest distance between two stations in whole of Mumbai) creating a flutter of anxiety. 

As I was hanging on the foot-board like ‘Tarzans of Bombay’ do, I could see it quiet clearly why the train pulled the brake. It was a bloodied man lying on the side of the track. The man was in severe pain and was lifted by 3 men from Railways into the furthest bogey that the motorman occupies.

I’m glad I witnessed this,
but I just wonder, that it could be me or you the next time we hang onto the overcrowded train on a one footed support, to fight time and deadline!...

To Fight Time and Deadline... Seriously? :/ 

Friday, August 10, 2012

The "Once Upon A Time" sorta Thing ..

In a faraway land (No, Not the places Dora, The Explorer shows us), there once dwelled a vain Princess, who had nothing to do, except look forward to her Prince Charming

She was hypnotized to do so by some creepy writer who thought it was soo literary-like to dictate a lady whose only claim to distinction was her fair smooth skin and long golden locks.

As scripted, she patiently waited by the window, Day in and Day out...
She hoped PC would arrive someday on a White Horse (Which aptly makes her a bit racist!) and help escape her moribund existence.

Of course, she wasn’t sure what kind of life PC might provide her once she hops on to sidesaddle him. But the fact that she didn’t know how to clean or cook kept her confidence high and expectations low.

More or less, the future was bound to be better out there on the wrong side of window.

Holding all these reasons in her empty head safe, she persisted.

In the meantime, PC took a lengthy detour and got killed in the ensuing freak accident which involved his horse and a mare.

End result: He didn’t show up.

The poor Princess, unaware of this bone-breaking news, kept her faith.
While she was at it, she lost some weight too. No one bothered though as she wasn’t suffering from anorexia.

Besides, the worst that could happen was some modeling agency landing up at her doorstep and window-shopping her. It didn’t matter who rescued her as long as she was loved by the idea of freedom. Whatever that means.

Meanwhile, weeks grew into months and months got substituted by years and eventually time lost track of itself.

Neverthemore, the frail Princess was still lonely with no Twitter timeline to pour her frustration on nor Facebook friends to photoshop her emotions with.

It was advisable to learn something new like cooking, gardening or knitting but she simply wasn’t interested. 

Her thoughts were with PC (who should have been alive had he respected equine privacy) and prayed the feeling was mutual.

One afternoon, a frog enters the story timeline and startled her. 

He croaked,Sweetheart, this is me – the one you’ve been waiting for all these years.”

On witnessing a frog that spoke fluent English, the Princess turned pale and was about to faint before she blurted out,Are you my PC?

This abbreviated question knotted frog’s long tongue and infuriated him,Now who the fcuk is PC?

Having a pair of ears that weren’t subject to harsh words, she got scared and instantly replied,Prince Charming!

The frog smiled like they aren’t supposed to on Animal Planet and was relieved to say, “Yeah! That dude’s me.

There was a long awkward silence and a longer staring contest between the two before the restless frog interrupted: Well, this is the part where you kiss me and we live happily ever after.”

Taking the cue, she lifted him up on her soft palm and closed her to eyes to oblige. At this very instance, the inevitable happened. 

She turned into a frogess and there was no way to go back other than live croakily ever after.

Sunday, July 8, 2012


Woke up at 10 ... with a Hangover from the previous day ..

A headache soo bad that I was sooo close entitling myself as Psyduck.

I do not complain though, it was worth the booze the day before

Also with a bane ache, I woke up with the craving Urge to booze again

So By 12pm, when I felt a lil better.

I called up 3 of those same peeps, from the previous day, to meet up and Jam again

And it turns out I was not the only one with the Urge.

Soo By AFTERNOON.. we all plan to meet up and get insober again ..

By 1 , I leave my place... with an inebriate plan 

On My way to it  .. I started to think about a few random thingies

Like how I NEVER used to Booze... and How I thought I never will.. and then, what got me started with it.

Then Songs from Sharabi, Karam(Subhash Ghai flick, Some Awesome drunken songs its got)..
Songs By Wiz Khalifa, FUN, Kid Rock etcetra
All of their Daaru Classics i would murmer..

ALSO, what would race through my mind are some extracts from Madhushaala, A treat for a Poem lover.. A Ball for a Drinker Poem Lover

Extracts like This one.

My grandpaa's favourite..

मदिरालय जाने को घर से चलता है पीने वाला ।
किस पथ से जाऊं? असमंजस में वो भोला भाला ।।
अलग अलग पथ बतलाते सब .. पर मई यह बतलाता हूँ ।
राह पकड़ तू एक चलाचल .. पा जायेगा मधुशाला ।।

Anyway.. So Plan's all set for Jugheads, Powai.

Jugheads, The Unrestaurant based on the Character of the Archies Comic books.(Actually It just tries and Imitates Pop Tates)

Jugheads, The place that once was our Casa..

Jugheads, The Place where we once sneaked out of, without paying the Bill. and THEN never came back..(Some Story it is. A different post about that, some other Day)

When it came to our knowledge that the whole management had changed.. a long time back.

we went back there again. Thinking that it would be safer now.

And I donno why am i speaking so much bout the place.

coz Jugheads has nothing do with with the Post..

Only that Jugheads was the place, where the moment we placed our Derriere on the chair..

We read the Notice and learned from the manager.. That it was Dry-day, meaning No Alcohol availability, anywhere in Mumbai TODAY

We looked at each others Faces .. Commiserate, Pitiful Faces .. that had a Doggy like Look.
The look that the Dog throws at you, when he's promised a bone.. and does not get one.

But We were Maddogs.. The mercenary kind.
In laymen terms.. We were Tom and Jerry's Spike.. and Not Richie Rich's Dollar.
Folks born in 90's and who spent their life facing The TV in the previous decade know what I'm talking about.



If I had to persuade the two girls, who had come with us to go show their Titties, to get us some booze, I would've done it!!
Uhh.. I just chose not to .. *ducks*

We could'nt just give up though..
Coz There's this thing about getting drunk..
If you leave ur place with a mind that you wanna get Tipsy today ..
Then, NOTHING ELSE can content you .. throughout the day..
Not even Philadelphia Cheesecake ..

Anyway, So while we were browsing our options viable for today..
We thought .. What is Cheap, Easy Available, and Can get us Nice and Tipsy..?
THEN, we all came to a common decision, BHANG ..
We then said it in Chorus "BHANGG!!!" ...

Now none of us knew how to get hold of it...(Just Tagged it 'Easily Available' for the heck of it)

If we've ever had Bhang before .. It was on Holi.

and at different different places..

So for starters we went down and asked the Panwala, just outside Jugheads.. If he had any Bhang on him...
The Panwala, looked more like JAY BARUCHEL, Remember Jay Baruchel?
That Guy from The sorceror's apprentice? No? 
Ok ..Danger from the 'Million Dollar Baby' ? Niente?
Okay! That Loser from 'She's Outta My League' ?
Just see The Pic ---->

So The Panwala HAS Bhang.. which he sells in a Gutkaa like small packet, The packets have it in powdered form.. which you mix in a fluid and swallow it.. 
I took 2 of those.. Rs.3 per packet.

When in suspicion I asked, Is this thing Real?

He said NO to that..
He said "NAKLI BHANG hai.. Lekin aapka Pet Saaf Ho Jayega"
"Abey, Jamalgota maanga terese?.. Bhang dey" I gently reverted.

He said he had nothing else...

I looked at the Pirated Bhang in my hand ..

Considering No other option at that point.. We gave this a GO!

Antique quote 'Beggars are not Choosers'.. Know what i mean?

So now..
❒ Liquid to put the Bhang in
❒ The Place

So we again, we took a vote( I called all the Shots) to have it in Chaas.. AMUL MASTI CHAAS precisely, and Outside the Joggers Park, Hiranandani

We got the packet out .. mixed it in the Chaas.. Swaad Anusar.

Followed the ancient tradition of CHEERS'ing  by smashing the Chaas cartons with one another .. and exuberantly took a sip.

After having it..!
There was'nt a minute change in the taste..

If anything.. It started tasting like the Chaas from my natives, We term it 'Maathaa'..


I took the bhang powder out n licked it a lil bit

It tasted like Chaat Masala.

It was such a Piss off ..

I felt sooo Trolled.. that Mussadi Lal would LOL me out..

"PET SAAF HO JAYEGA?"... Is that what Bhang is ..some sort of Hajma?

He turned the heavy abuser switch On in me!

Nor did my friends vaguely feel any kind of a Kick or remotely something like that...

Soo We just mixed the whole thing in our Chaas... and Gulped it down the throat...

AND THEN, There... I felt a slight something, I'd say like a Fart in a Windstorm..

and I recalled, How unlike everything else, Bhang takes time to get to you.

Still Sitting on the curb, outside the Joggers park..


Not Talking to each other.. JUSSST Sitting there..

Past cursing the Panwala..

A lotta stuff started running through our minds.. All the relevant and more than that the Irrelevant, Misclassifed, mismatched stuff

From Euro Cup Final.. to Pranab Mukherjee's nominaton for the Prez of India

From Kunnal Nayyar, Koothrapali from #TBBT marrying a Supa Hot Chick .. to Higg's Boson Particle..

From Bhola Zarda/Gutka .. to The Panwala who trolled Us..

Well ..Did he??

I did not feel intoxicated/high .. nor did anyone.. But a different form of sluggishness entered in..

Locking all my joints.. I sure felt like ...Stephen Hawking.

Ok Overrated?.. 
maybe Hritik Roshan from Guzarish.

It actually felt kinda good..

Sitting there, I started to recollect a TV series that used to come, when I was a kid.. where to finish a certain mission, the girl would stop Time, using some cards. Cardcaptors I think..

Fictional or Real.. I just wanted the time to stop.

I had not felt soo quite and calm for a very long time..!

Serenity and Nature had wedded that very moment ..

Why is the Dog staring at me? The Dog has a Mark on his lower left side of the Face. I've seen that kind of Mark ..
It was on My friend Kevin's face..
But Kevin died 4 yrs back!!
Is it my Friend Kevin?? Reincarnated..!
He's the only one I know who had a mark like that..and He loved dogs..
The Dogs Eyes look a lot like Kevin's .. i.e. Invisible from a Distance.

Or is it just some mad dog ... whose come for my vintage one rupee Coin from 1947. He sure is staring at my Bag .. that has the wallet .. that has the coin.. But how does he know I have a coin in there..! 

Crap..! They are dogs .. They can see and hear evrything in an out, stuff that even humans cant
Half of CID cases they show on TV are solved by Dogs ..

<the dog goes away>

*looks around*

Oh Fuck a Huge Dick in The Sky ..! (In The shape of the clouds)
Now it Diminishes ...
Is there some kinda divine message for me in there?
Oh Yes..! I played a Prank with the Chicken Butcher's Kid, from the slums the other day..
The Butchers gonna fucking Castrate me.. for it
Can we get the Insurance done for Testicles?
People have gotten it done for different different parts of their body.
I saw it on the newspaper the other day.
With or without insurance.. How do u join a Cut Penis or a Testicle man??
Crap! I don wanna be a eunuch

<looks around to divert himself from the thought>
Why is every Building in hiranandani of same colour..? Muddy Colour.
Its like everyone's come to school with the common uniform ...

<Looks At THE BUSINESS TOWER >(A glass tower,which is not of the same brown mud colour)
Iska Birthday hai aaj..!

The One friend amongst us .. who has a liver of a Pirate, and had real good control over alcohol and other broken things... somehow managed to drag the other 3 of us inside the Park.

<watching people jog>
Look at that Fat guy .. Fat as Fuck .. Fatter than the nutty professor himself .. He's gnna start panting, when he's just half crossed the Ground
A Lady skinier than Kate Moss also comes to Jog.. Why? she definetly works in a circus, and is made to pass through hoops as small as the ring.

<After a few other visual encounters>

*tears out the grass*

The Mud beneath the Grass came out ..
Spoiled my shirt, n Jeans. Filthified it..

The friend sitting beside tells me "Uthke Saaf Karle nah?"


If i could get up and tidy my attire.
then I could get everyone up and run 'em to their Chores, Their Homes, Dinner Together or whteva ..

'Cleanliness' Nerve and 'On The Move' Nerve .. I had neither of 'em .!

We just stayed there... Staring at whatever was served in front of the Eye.

Stayed there till 8:30.. doing what we were doing..

Imagine SITTING AT A PLACE FOR HOURS.. Not even moving a Leaf.. The Ass wasnt complaining either.

Just then, my Father rings me.. and tells me I have to cum home soon.

The fear of getting screwd rushed my adrenaline.. but only to an extent, the Bhang allowed it.

I still felt very Sluggish..

It took me 10 minutes to get on my feet .. n bout 30 minutes 2 get everyone on their Hoofs

The way we walked out of the Park, We resembled Penguins.

Now.. The Facedown... 

Facing my father..

After you watch al the Teen movies.. 
You start to expect.. YOU START TO WISH, that your life TOO, was soo cliched
You enter your place Drunk..

Your father "Son..Wait, why are you so late? Are you drunk again?"
You're Like "Why dont you stop bothering me? Gimme my space.. Dad"
Father does not say another word... Keeps Mum.. 
The following morning.. Bygones are Bygones.. 

But My Papa is nuin like it ... He's an orthodox belligerent man..

Would kill me.. if I cross a line.. Which apparently I HAVE.. on whatsoever basis you classify..!

I ring the Bell.. 

The song playing in my mind... #S&M 

"I Maybe Bad... But I'm perfectly God At it" - Rihanna & My Father.

He opens the door..

-"Where the Hell have you been?"
-"I was at Hiranandani, Paa"
-"Why? I have warned you ... Buff-Buff-Buff-Buff-Puff-Puff-Blah-Puff-Blah-Puff-Blah-Puff-Buff-Buff-Boobs-Buff-Puff-Puff-Puff Phuss Have I Not?"
-"Uhhhhhgg.. Yeaa Paa"
-"Then why is it that everytime .. Blupprr-bluff-buff-buff-puff-buffle .. Huh?"
-"Haan Papa"
-"Kya 'Haan Papa'?? Wht did i ask you? __________________________________________
He's got hair on his ears...!
OMG!! how come I never noticed this all these years.
Look at them.. Erect Hair on the Auditory Area..
Does it serve the same function as Nasal Hair? Saving the Nose with with all the Crap.
So hair on the ears saves him frm hearing to all the Bullshit he does nt want to hear.. Whooaa!! Cool.
BUT Can he not even hear the CRAP tat he talks at times..
Or does it just Mute when he blabbers crap.

-"Anoop. answer me"
I don remember if I'v seen this on anyone else ..
Last one must be Dumbledore. i suppose..
With hair on every friggin inch of the body and and Sardar Tara singh, mulund nagar sevak.

"Get him outta my sight"- My Father Roared
-"Why? You think I'm Drunk? ....Here

<makes him smell his breathe>
.... BURRPP!! "
<A milkish burp on his face

I was made to go in my room after that
where the moment I hit the Bed. I was Dead

Saturday, June 16, 2012

लोपदगामिनी द्वार

Do this, atleast once in ur lifetime ...

Get on a Fast Mumbai Local Train .. which will not halt for atleast 4 stations.

Stand at the Door..!

Face Towards the direction the Train is moving ..

Now, because The Train is not going to halt for next 4 stations.. it picks up extreme speed.

Your Hair is carressed backwards..

Your clothing shivers like its caught Pneumonia

You can barely open your eyes ..(Make sure.. you still have to look Forward.. The direction in which the train was moving)

The Train travels so fast.. Its like you're in one of those Time Travelling Machines..

Like, When the train stops.. It'll be 2030..
Speaking of.. 
Ever thought what would it be like..!

If I were to picture it ... I'd imagine 2030 would be a Conclusive Year .. Conclusion to the Big Shot Conundrums, this year... will be a Done Deal by 2030

For example ...
*=*The Biggest Mystery On TV .. and amongst everyone, who live on Sitcoms ...
How did Ted Fucking meet his children's Mother...

Soo this is how I see it.. 
In 2030,
Ted's daughter is Strangling Ted to death, coz after all the blabbering.. all the Irrelevant crap bout his Lame group.. All the Bro Code.. PlayBook.. Broath.. Lemon Law.. More laws and amendments than there are in the Constitution..
Their Hook ups.. Break Ups .. Patch Ups.. that had remotely nothing to do with her mother..
Now, Ted tells her..
He does not know her mother .. It was just another random girl he banged during Barney's just another Masquerade party .. after they were drunk
To make the sex, more kinky.. They never removed their masks.
And at some random day ..
After a year ...
A Baby is dropped at his door .. 
Like Mail..

*=* THE WINTER FINALLY CAME ...! #GameOfThrones

*=* Two and a half Men .. are Finally THREE COMPLETE MEN

*=* Manmohan Singh died long back ..
Cause of Death:- Viral Throat Infection
Nobody knew he was suffering from it .. Not even his Family.. coz apparently the symptoms include 'Inconvenience in talking .. Hoarseness of Voice .. Unclear Vocals'..!

The Present Prime Minister is Chamaar Abdullah ..
Omar Abdullah's Evil Cousin.
Rahul Gandhi still having a blast at the Dalits.. Free Food, Free stay, Free Dalit Sex

*=* Apple CEO Tim Cook also Dead ..
Cause of Death:- Piles ..
That cursed CEO Chair .. eats people ..
Apple still releases iOS 99

*=* Aishwarya Rai never got slimmer after childbirth..
Abhishek Bachchan convincing her daughter.. that LIC Agent was'nt his primary career from the beginning .. 
He was an actor for real in the past ..!

*=* Sachin Tendulkar Retired long back ...!
After Rajya sabha membership .. He is now the 'Nagar Sevak' of Kaju Pada, Kurla.
Not really..!  No..! Just Kiddin ^_- 
Its Indira Nagar..!
I know .. Posh..

and yeaa Kambli still bitches over it ..!

*=* People still eating each other up over Manchester United and Chelsea FC ...
and India still did not make it to Football.
Their FIFA ranking goes parallel with the ageing of the Salvatore Brothers ..! #VampireDiaries
Last Time i checked in 2011 .. Salvatore Brothers were 162 yrs old .. So was India's FIFA ranking.. and its been 18 years since then.
Do the Math

The Fictional way of doing this, Imagining things, while standing at the Coach Door.. is Fun ..
Big Time.

and I've had my part of fun doing this a lodda times ..
At times .. Its Time travel ..
At times .. I convince myself.. I'm Flying.. like BuzzLightyear

2 ∞ & →

by just bending a lil 90 deg. towards the door.
It also gives it that metaphoric feel, of 'Azzad Parinde' ... #FreeBird #Udaan #Pankh #YourMom #NasalHair #IDonnoWhatAmITypingAnymore 


At times .. Just Singing
Sing out loud ..
Ofcourse when there are a few/no people around..
When you sing it, facing in the direction The Train is going ..
The wind kinda reverberates back the sound .. and it gives an acoustic feel to it ..
That makes you both ... The वक्ता/गायक and The श्रोता ..! which is like sooo Khool.. :D

Moreover.. I sing songs that have had a [Travelling sequence/ Lyrics Pertaining to a Travel] in the Movie ..

Hum jo chalne lagey.. chalne lagey hai yeh raaste

Raahi ka toh Kaam hai Chalta hi jaye

Yeh Hawayein.. Gun Gunaein, Pooche Tu Hai Kahan?

Do Pal Ruka.. Khabon ka Carvan..

Above All ..

Gaadi Bula Rahi Hai .. Seeti Bajaa Rahi hai .. Chalna hi zindgi hai ..chalti hi jaa rahi hai
(No! Actually.. Not Above All.. Infact have heard just once... )

This Verbal Playlist .. at times is a Ball for me .. during my 30 minute Train Travel ..

Childlike? Amateur? Lame?

One can term it whatever they wish like ..
but I admit .. I'm a 'Fancy Day Dreamer' ..!


There was just this One time .. when things went quite differently..!

In a pretty upset mood ..
I Get in The Train at 11:30..

Standing at the door of the coach ..
Facing the Same direction .. As always...
Dealing with the Same Speed.. As always...

Song Playing in my Earpiece

Abhi Na Jao, Chodd kar.. Ke dil Abhi Bharaa Nahi

in a very dim volume ..

Was not really listening to the song .. but, it was still keepin me in peace ..

I started to look around. .
*=*A Man walking on the Railway Track... lost in his space .. (Weird Man Cave)

*=* Men fixing tracks .. in this poor heat .. what will they get by the end of the day? About 300-500 bucks .. Enough to feed a family ??

*=* People Pooping on side tracks

*=* An Old Man eating stuff out of the Garbage

A station passes by..

*=* A Group of Folks .. are chilling while they wait for their train to come ..
*=* A Shop with a young kid .. who must be 8 or 9 by age
*=* A Lady Police officer crying by the Pillar at the end of the platform


Inside The Train

*=* Women begging with their babies
*=* A 5 yr Old begging with 3yr old AND approx a 6 mnth baby ..!
*=* A Wannabe, in Monkey-Wash jeans .. Duplicate Rayban Glares
A Lame Ed Hardy T shirt.. with EdHardy Stiched on it.. making every deliberate attempt to get a girl.. but wont ever get one..!
*=* A Guy on the phone, calling out his galfrnd with weird nicknames .. possibly having his 1st relationship.. which he's pretty much gonna Fuck up..!
(Marshall and Lily are Fictional)
*=* An man in his 30's ... keepin to himself.. who was tormented by his wife again for Money( 'Expenses' - in their Currency )

EveryOne of us .. carry a story on our backlog ..
While Looking around.. when you come across just one story, that makes yours look petty
in Comparison ..

You wanna turn back and take another good look at it.

But its too late.. 
There's always this limited window to everything ..
Explaining this metaphorically by The Train example..!
In that Speed of that Train ... I could only catch a Glimpse of everything that I mentioned above ..
For barely 3-5 seconds ..
Ofcourse except the one's that were in the Train..
A Small Limited window of Time, and Opportunity
You could either Grab it .. or You could just Stand by .. and mourn about it..

Whatever you do .. Keeps you to the Hang of it for the rest of your life ..

Soo You either stand at the Coach door ..


Just Pull the Chain ... Stop the Train