Lucifer called, lucky devil! That guy played it smart. He decided to cater to very a niche audience and by Me, he has it really good. Select but very loyal followers, enjoys every sin imaginable, scares the hell out of my followers and has plenty of time leftover to party with those slutty chicks! Admittedly he scores low on the popularity charts, but his services have real demand.
Even Godie Jr prefers him. Now I don’t waana sound like a broken harp, but these that God is a handful. He thinks Lucifer is real cool. Cool? The devil resides in burning hell! But then he does have style. Black and red Vs sissy white? Bah!
If I hadn’t been busy listening to my clients, I would have given that designer a piece of my mind. White with halo and wings? Who wears that? And then he goes and gives Lucifer that horny look. What right-minded soul would prefer my look. GAh!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Goddamn it - Chapter 1
Mr God was severely depressed. Mrs God was complaining about how he never spent time with her nowadays. Godie Jr was caught partying in hell again and to top it all, his customers were complaining about his deteriorating servicing skills.
What can a God do? You create 24 hours in a day thinking it’s more than enough to cater to a thousand odd people and have enough time left over to be with the wife and kids. Next thing you know, people decide to procreate! There are now billions of people demanding your time and effort. The wife’s unhappy and the kids? Don’t even ask! “Virtue is boring”, he says. Who wants to sing songs with those pious angels when you have sexy devils to hang around with – painting the netherworlds red?
One must admit, the boy has a point.
One must say, on these days, I can’t help but swear. But then it’s written that “thou shalt not swear”. I know, I wrote that goddamn rule!
What can a God do? You create 24 hours in a day thinking it’s more than enough to cater to a thousand odd people and have enough time left over to be with the wife and kids. Next thing you know, people decide to procreate! There are now billions of people demanding your time and effort. The wife’s unhappy and the kids? Don’t even ask! “Virtue is boring”, he says. Who wants to sing songs with those pious angels when you have sexy devils to hang around with – painting the netherworlds red?
One must admit, the boy has a point.
One must say, on these days, I can’t help but swear. But then it’s written that “thou shalt not swear”. I know, I wrote that goddamn rule!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Adulations of a New Driver
Oh what a joy it is to drive on these pristine Delhi roads.
Every road is filled with bumps and cracks that jiggle you from head to toe. Even an hour in the gym can’t work out your muscles as well as riding over a hole in the ground does. It’s true exercise, from head to toe, not to mention the mind numbing effect it has on your nerves.
Mental exercise is another brilliant side effect of fiving here. Ever day you search your vocabulary to find new abuses that you can level at your fellow drivers. Who by the way, are the salt of the earth. Cutting lanes, incessant honking and exhibition of road rage are just some of the qualities that make them a joy to have around. What can I say, they fill my life with such adventure.
And how can I forget the sheer brilliance of the municipalities that actually construct our roads. Flyovers that stop the flow of traffic rather than ease it, incomplete construction sites that never fail to live up to their promise of jamming the roads… ah! What saints!
As a new driver, I can safely say that my days and dreams are filled with my driving adventures. This tribute was indeed well deserved.
What do you think?
Next week: The joys of parking.
Every road is filled with bumps and cracks that jiggle you from head to toe. Even an hour in the gym can’t work out your muscles as well as riding over a hole in the ground does. It’s true exercise, from head to toe, not to mention the mind numbing effect it has on your nerves.
Mental exercise is another brilliant side effect of fiving here. Ever day you search your vocabulary to find new abuses that you can level at your fellow drivers. Who by the way, are the salt of the earth. Cutting lanes, incessant honking and exhibition of road rage are just some of the qualities that make them a joy to have around. What can I say, they fill my life with such adventure.
And how can I forget the sheer brilliance of the municipalities that actually construct our roads. Flyovers that stop the flow of traffic rather than ease it, incomplete construction sites that never fail to live up to their promise of jamming the roads… ah! What saints!
As a new driver, I can safely say that my days and dreams are filled with my driving adventures. This tribute was indeed well deserved.
What do you think?
Next week: The joys of parking.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
One for the Road Debjit Da!
I remember you as the first guy to treat me like an adult when I was still the ‘little sister’ for everyone around. A brilliant conversationalist. The man who introduced me to the intruging world of photography. The friend I could discuss sidey films and great books with. You were all this and much more.
You have not been a part of my life for a few years now. And while distance did not really make the heart fonder, your death makes me recall the fond memories I have of you. A hunt for ice-cream at 2 in the morning, a debate on Secret Seven VS Famous Five, a lesson on photography and the one on how to smoke properly.
Thank you for all those times. Thank you for being the person you were. I hope you find peace wherever you are going now. You will be missed.
You have not been a part of my life for a few years now. And while distance did not really make the heart fonder, your death makes me recall the fond memories I have of you. A hunt for ice-cream at 2 in the morning, a debate on Secret Seven VS Famous Five, a lesson on photography and the one on how to smoke properly.
Thank you for all those times. Thank you for being the person you were. I hope you find peace wherever you are going now. You will be missed.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
nothingsane: The Media Circus
nothingsane: The Media Circus: "Media-bashing seems to be the latest trend in town. Tune in to a news channel in a crowded pub and every table will offer an opinion about h..."
The Media Circus
Media-bashing seems to be the latest trend in town. Tune in to a news channel in a crowded pub and every table will offer an opinion about how the media is just a cooking pot of sensation today. Movies like Peepli Live throw the frivolous nature of television reporting at our faces while campaigns like HT preach about how it’s time to change the way news is presented.
The overall verdict seems to be that the mighty days of the pen are a thing of the past. Today, the pen and its wielders are mere rats in the race for higher TRPs. News is packaged in a manner more appropriate for an Ekta Kapoor serial than a source of reliable information.
Granted. But here’s the crux – Do we really want True Journalism?
Remember the DD days when the reporters merely stated facts? Would any of us actually watch that?
Who watches these so called entertaining news channels? We do.
Who prefers the cartoon strips to a well written editorial? We do.
Who laps up a spicy special on the hump(ty)-dump(ty) lifestyles of the rich and famous? We do.
And that’s what my point is. It’s always easy to blame the government, the politicians, the company, the people for anything and everything in life. The media is the latest victim of the “It’s always his/her/its fault” philosophy we have. Taking responsibility to change something is simply not our thing.
Speaking of change, the media has changed perspectives in recent years. The Jessica Lal case, the demand for gay rights, the Ruchika Girhotra Case (at least the initial buzz) were all brought to the forefront by the today ostracized media.
I am no fan of the media clan, but I do believe that the anti-media stance that the country seems to have taken is a tad bit unfair. If the media is a circus, we are the ringmasters – question is will we ask them to stay or jump?
The overall verdict seems to be that the mighty days of the pen are a thing of the past. Today, the pen and its wielders are mere rats in the race for higher TRPs. News is packaged in a manner more appropriate for an Ekta Kapoor serial than a source of reliable information.
Granted. But here’s the crux – Do we really want True Journalism?
Remember the DD days when the reporters merely stated facts? Would any of us actually watch that?
Who watches these so called entertaining news channels? We do.
Who prefers the cartoon strips to a well written editorial? We do.
Who laps up a spicy special on the hump(ty)-dump(ty) lifestyles of the rich and famous? We do.
And that’s what my point is. It’s always easy to blame the government, the politicians, the company, the people for anything and everything in life. The media is the latest victim of the “It’s always his/her/its fault” philosophy we have. Taking responsibility to change something is simply not our thing.
Speaking of change, the media has changed perspectives in recent years. The Jessica Lal case, the demand for gay rights, the Ruchika Girhotra Case (at least the initial buzz) were all brought to the forefront by the today ostracized media.
I am no fan of the media clan, but I do believe that the anti-media stance that the country seems to have taken is a tad bit unfair. If the media is a circus, we are the ringmasters – question is will we ask them to stay or jump?
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Meet The Therapists
I finally figured out why soap operas, both English and desi, are so popular. Those characters have it so tough, your life seems blissful in comparison.
You had a bad day. Bad boss, traffic jams, blah blah blah.
The lady on screen: has a boss that’s sexually harassing her, her husband is having an affair with her best friend, whose husband she had a one night stand with and is still attracted to and the aforementioned boss just found out about it.
Think about it. Doesn’t that make you feel a little bit better? I call it soap therapy. And what’s more every channel has a similar story running almost 24/7 so you never need to stick to a timeline. It’s bloody brilliant.
Take it from me the ‘I-might-be-unemployed-soon-and-growing-to-be-a-fat-cow-thanks-to my-chocolates-keep-depression-away-theory’ woman – soap therapy actually works.
In fact, I am considering marketing my soap therapy idea as anti-depression packages customized to meet your need and problem. Any customers out there?
You had a bad day. Bad boss, traffic jams, blah blah blah.
The lady on screen: has a boss that’s sexually harassing her, her husband is having an affair with her best friend, whose husband she had a one night stand with and is still attracted to and the aforementioned boss just found out about it.
Think about it. Doesn’t that make you feel a little bit better? I call it soap therapy. And what’s more every channel has a similar story running almost 24/7 so you never need to stick to a timeline. It’s bloody brilliant.
Take it from me the ‘I-might-be-unemployed-soon-and-growing-to-be-a-fat-cow-thanks-to my-chocolates-keep-depression-away-theory’ woman – soap therapy actually works.
In fact, I am considering marketing my soap therapy idea as anti-depression packages customized to meet your need and problem. Any customers out there?
Monday, October 12, 2009
Ganging Up
A Kungfu Panda look alike.
A princess outside her tower.
A tall, clean shaven hitler.
A could-have- been bong porn star.
That’s my gang.
As individuals, they all manage to pass off as normal sane individuals. Great professionals even, but when they come together, it’s a Frankenstein meets loony toons scenario.
That’s my gang.
What prompted this post was a farewell part that made me wake up with a smile on a Monday morning. A farewell party that was sans tears, short of any nostalgic crap, shorn of any kind of sentimental mumbo – jumbo. A party that was fun. A party that was thrown to make me feel special, without anyone saying that I am.
That’s my gang.
In a rare introspective moment, in a nearly out-of-body experience, I stepped out to look at my friends and all I saw was a bunch of normal, okie slightly abnormal, set of people hanging out and having some fun. But there was something more. An indefinable bond that made them special.
That’s my gang.
A gang that’s rare because we are all so different yet similar.
A group where untouched virginity meets sex gurus.
A group where optimism personified meets cynicism trebled.
A group where every individual is a loner at heart.
Freud would have found this gang’s psych perplexing.
Einstein would have been at a loss to understand the equations involved.
Hitler would have learnt a lesson in tyranny.
Kunfu panda would have learnt a few new moves.
Porn directors would get orgasmic with our star power.
That’s my gang.
And that’s me right in the middle.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Everyone is a writer, but me!
I am convinced, anyone can be a writer. My clients are, my servicing team is, my dhobi, my bai, my cabwalla…. Everyone is a writer. Apart from me that is. If Shakespeare lived today, the Comedy of Errors would not be accepted- “how can errors be comical?”. Jeeves would have died a literary death at the concept stage – “Bertie is our TG, he can’t be dumber than a butler”. For that matter, any author I have read or even heard about would have given up writing in order to keep his sanity intact.
While I lay no claim to being a great writer, I did think I had a perfunctory knowledge of the English language. But it seems I was completely wrong. Even my severely linguistically challenged peers, appear to be better writers.
I have been told “that’s what advertising is”. I disagree. I know plenty of copywriters who have written brilliant ads. I don’t know how they managed it though. Maybe they managed to find clients who write worse than them. Or maybe they are genuinely good writers.
A suggestion however, if anyone reading this post, is a writer stay away from advertising. If you can’t write and yet want to be a writer, send me your CV, your writing skills will be much appreciated.
While I lay no claim to being a great writer, I did think I had a perfunctory knowledge of the English language. But it seems I was completely wrong. Even my severely linguistically challenged peers, appear to be better writers.
I have been told “that’s what advertising is”. I disagree. I know plenty of copywriters who have written brilliant ads. I don’t know how they managed it though. Maybe they managed to find clients who write worse than them. Or maybe they are genuinely good writers.
A suggestion however, if anyone reading this post, is a writer stay away from advertising. If you can’t write and yet want to be a writer, send me your CV, your writing skills will be much appreciated.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Cloth-Shedding!
The world has definitely gone down to its basics nowadays. A few days back, we were asked to send pink chaddis to protest against a Mangalore incident. Today, PETA activists protested against the zoo at Milan in black bikinis.
Now I really don’t get the connect. Why is it necessary to shed clothes to protest against cruelty to animals? Unless, it’s to show solidarity with the beasts that reside in perpetual nudity. I gotta admit, that’s one hell of an interesting connect.
Now I have nothing against women or men for that matter, baring themselves. If they have good bodies, I even enjoy a small peek or a full fledged ogle. But what I fail to understand is when did the lack of clothes become a sign of revolt?
The French, the English, us Indians all managed to revolt against our status quo systems fully dressed, then what changed now?
Somehow wearing miniscule clothes has become our answer to the moral police that calls for a public flogging for showing off our ankles.
They say way wear full clothes.
We say “Won’t”
They say displaying flesh is a sign of revolt.
We say “We Do!”
They say stick to modesty.
We say “Shan’t”
So semi-nakedness seems to be synonymous with rebellion today. So be it. But a thought just struck. It’s strange. While we as a generation our determined to get down to our basics to protest against the wrongs in the world, we still expect our politicians to dress from head to toe in khadi to demonstrate their maturity.
A jeans clad young neta is not serious enough to lead the nation, but a bikini clad model is deemed perfect to be the voice of the people.
I love our paradoxical world.
Now I really don’t get the connect. Why is it necessary to shed clothes to protest against cruelty to animals? Unless, it’s to show solidarity with the beasts that reside in perpetual nudity. I gotta admit, that’s one hell of an interesting connect.
Now I have nothing against women or men for that matter, baring themselves. If they have good bodies, I even enjoy a small peek or a full fledged ogle. But what I fail to understand is when did the lack of clothes become a sign of revolt?
The French, the English, us Indians all managed to revolt against our status quo systems fully dressed, then what changed now?
Somehow wearing miniscule clothes has become our answer to the moral police that calls for a public flogging for showing off our ankles.
They say way wear full clothes.
We say “Won’t”
They say displaying flesh is a sign of revolt.
We say “We Do!”
They say stick to modesty.
We say “Shan’t”
So semi-nakedness seems to be synonymous with rebellion today. So be it. But a thought just struck. It’s strange. While we as a generation our determined to get down to our basics to protest against the wrongs in the world, we still expect our politicians to dress from head to toe in khadi to demonstrate their maturity.
A jeans clad young neta is not serious enough to lead the nation, but a bikini clad model is deemed perfect to be the voice of the people.
I love our paradoxical world.
Friday, March 06, 2009
My New Philosophy
As I approach yet another birthday, I find myself pondering on … well life in general. After a lot of introspection and soul searching, I have crafted a new philosophy of life for myself. But what I came up with was so profound that I just could not keep it to myself. So here it is, my 5 pronged philosophy – one I seek to imbibe in my life from here on
1. You are as young, as tall and as fat as you think you are.
Admittedly not completely original but I added my own twists to it. According to this rule, I am 21 (any younger and I can’t enter pubs), about 5’11 and have a completely flab-less body.
2. If others haven’t seen it, you haven’t done it
It’s simple actually, any action becomes real only if people see it or hear it. For example anyone sees a star falling then it becomes a shooting star, if nobody sees it, well the world moves on literally.
In my case if I eat a cookie while I am on a diet it does not count as long as I eat it alone in a room.
3. If you miss the bus, get a lift.
True. You should never wait for the next bus to come. It will invariably be late and that’s not me that’s murphy’s law.
In real life if I miss a movie I am going to watch the pirated version, no point waiting for the next weekend the movie is sure to be gone by then.
4. If nothing new comes up, change the packaging.
This rule has so many interpretations, I am at a loss which one to pick!
In these recessionary times don’t buy new clothes, just dye them another colour.
Cant think of a new idea? Browse old presentations and resell an old one
Don’t have a guy in your life? Call the loser you dated few years back and dumped
5. The world is what you make of it
A bit similar to rule 1 but not the same. This rule applies to how you interpret what others say to you. For eg
This idea suck
Interpretation – I am very impressed with your ideas but I don’t have the money to do this now
That’s dumb
Interpretation – If I don’t say that we will have a long conversation on this and you will realize I am a prize idiot!
You are old
Interpretation – I envy your wisdom and experience but I am too young to admit it
Get ready world, it’s the new me with new rules. Get outta the way
1. You are as young, as tall and as fat as you think you are.
Admittedly not completely original but I added my own twists to it. According to this rule, I am 21 (any younger and I can’t enter pubs), about 5’11 and have a completely flab-less body.
2. If others haven’t seen it, you haven’t done it
It’s simple actually, any action becomes real only if people see it or hear it. For example anyone sees a star falling then it becomes a shooting star, if nobody sees it, well the world moves on literally.
In my case if I eat a cookie while I am on a diet it does not count as long as I eat it alone in a room.
3. If you miss the bus, get a lift.
True. You should never wait for the next bus to come. It will invariably be late and that’s not me that’s murphy’s law.
In real life if I miss a movie I am going to watch the pirated version, no point waiting for the next weekend the movie is sure to be gone by then.
4. If nothing new comes up, change the packaging.
This rule has so many interpretations, I am at a loss which one to pick!
In these recessionary times don’t buy new clothes, just dye them another colour.
Cant think of a new idea? Browse old presentations and resell an old one
Don’t have a guy in your life? Call the loser you dated few years back and dumped
5. The world is what you make of it
A bit similar to rule 1 but not the same. This rule applies to how you interpret what others say to you. For eg
This idea suck
Interpretation – I am very impressed with your ideas but I don’t have the money to do this now
That’s dumb
Interpretation – If I don’t say that we will have a long conversation on this and you will realize I am a prize idiot!
You are old
Interpretation – I envy your wisdom and experience but I am too young to admit it
Get ready world, it’s the new me with new rules. Get outta the way
Friday, November 28, 2008
Mumbai terror over. IS IT?
A little over a year and I am again writing about a shaken Mumbai. The world was glued to its television set as, to quote the myriad news channels, “terrorists held the city to ransom”.
For the past 60 hours everyone I know within the city and out has been watching the news incessantly, switching channels to find one that gives more or different information. Even now as I write this, the tv is on showing horrific details of the different operations held to free the hostages and capture the terrorists.
The assault is over and the city is jubilant. It should be. The forces are being applauded. As they should. The city’s spirit is being applauded again. It should… should it?
There are a lot of questions being asked. Should India take action? Should the government tackle Pakistan? ….
But to my mind the most important question was asked by my nephew. Confused by the news replacing all serials, movies and more importantly his cartoons, he asked his mother what’s happening.
On being told that terrorists have taken over Mumbai, he asked,
“wo kya hota hai?”
“Wo Logon ko maarte hai.”
“kyu?”
Pretty deep for a six year old huh? My family for one did not know the answer. I have been racking my brains to find one, but have none either.
I hate these people who kill without mercy. The hatred intensifies when I read stories of the people who lost their lives in this massacre. People who are not mere news reports, but real people with real lives that were cut short without reason. Like the favourite school teacher, or the young boy about to get married next month. Or the brave soldiers who died during operations. All killed by things we call terrorists.
I call them things because humanity does not seem to be a part of their system. Remorseless, they are ready to die and kill. But why? Indoctrination? By whom and again why? For religion? For politics? For power?
Who wins? How do they win? Do we win by killing the terrorists?
The tv shows celebratory scenes. Ecstatic people out on the streets celebrating the death of all the terrorists, relieved that it’s all over. But is it? Will it really ever be completely over?
I don’t think so. Not until all the why’s, how’s and kyu’s have been answered. Anybody got one?
For the past 60 hours everyone I know within the city and out has been watching the news incessantly, switching channels to find one that gives more or different information. Even now as I write this, the tv is on showing horrific details of the different operations held to free the hostages and capture the terrorists.
The assault is over and the city is jubilant. It should be. The forces are being applauded. As they should. The city’s spirit is being applauded again. It should… should it?
There are a lot of questions being asked. Should India take action? Should the government tackle Pakistan? ….
But to my mind the most important question was asked by my nephew. Confused by the news replacing all serials, movies and more importantly his cartoons, he asked his mother what’s happening.
On being told that terrorists have taken over Mumbai, he asked,
“wo kya hota hai?”
“Wo Logon ko maarte hai.”
“kyu?”
Pretty deep for a six year old huh? My family for one did not know the answer. I have been racking my brains to find one, but have none either.
I hate these people who kill without mercy. The hatred intensifies when I read stories of the people who lost their lives in this massacre. People who are not mere news reports, but real people with real lives that were cut short without reason. Like the favourite school teacher, or the young boy about to get married next month. Or the brave soldiers who died during operations. All killed by things we call terrorists.
I call them things because humanity does not seem to be a part of their system. Remorseless, they are ready to die and kill. But why? Indoctrination? By whom and again why? For religion? For politics? For power?
Who wins? How do they win? Do we win by killing the terrorists?
The tv shows celebratory scenes. Ecstatic people out on the streets celebrating the death of all the terrorists, relieved that it’s all over. But is it? Will it really ever be completely over?
I don’t think so. Not until all the why’s, how’s and kyu’s have been answered. Anybody got one?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
A Confession!
It just happened. I couldn’t stop myself.
I tried very hard to control myself… but I succumbed.
And now the guilt is setting in
How could I do this? How could I give in?
It’s no good telling myself that its okay, it happens, its just natural..
A voice inside asks "But it felt good, didn’t it?"
And I answer: “Yes it did. It really did. I felt satisfied after so long..oh so long.”
Then the stupid conscience pops in and asks
"But now you feel bad, don’t you?"
Again I answer "Yes I do, I really do, I feel so ashamed."
But the harm is done.
A week of dieting and one chocolate just ruined it all!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
3 short stories, one big post
The world depresses me.
Actually it doesn’t, it’s just a spiffy start to the totally irrational, unnecessary and rambling post that follows.
There are a whole lot of totally unconnected things happening around me.
Two friends of mine are soon going to become one – tied together in the eternal bond of marriage. Translated that means, two of my friends are getting married. (I am trying to free myself of the accursed advertising lingo).
Conversations nowadays are full of engagement and marriage plans, cost cutting measures (to quote the would-be groom, these are recessionary times) and of course the grandiose entertainment programme that should leave the audience enthralled.
While I am excited and participate whole heartedly in these conversations and also contribute my two bits of innovative ideas… I still wonder when it got so bloody complicated.
When did a marriage stop being a simple ceremony that tied two people in an everlasting bond and become a billion dollar industry?
When did an engagement turn into a gala entertainment event?
There are others in the same boat. Planning, saving, planning, buying, planning their upcoming nuptials. Sooner or later all of them have come up with the line “Let’s just do a simple court marriage”. I swear all of them used the same line.
Question is, why not? Like Messr Nike says “JUST DO IT!”
-------X------X------
I am reading two books simultaneously nowadays –one is a hard hitting supposedly true story of a woman suffering from disassociative personality disorder, earlier known as multiple personality disorder. The other book is an epic fantasy – dragons, riders, magical beings and equally magical evil characters.
When I dream, the memories of the two books amalgamate and I see visions of the earth populated by fantastical beings – dragons are my pets, people I like are brave warriors and people I have something against, are the evil powers.
And maybe that’s the truth. Maybe in another reality I am part of the legions of good that battle forces of evil. Maybe my friends, my powers and my essential goodness (a bit tarnished in this reality), helped win the battle of good over evil.
It might just be true – like adidas says “IMPOSSIBLE IS NOTHING” .
-------X------X------
Somebody told me the other day – my memory is going, I don’t remember who said it or when, but then I figure if I don’t remember then it was probably not worth remembering. Anyway somebody mentioned that I am not introspective enough as a person and that is why I don’t have answers to the most important questions in life
Who am I?
What does the future hold?
What do I want?
What will I have for dinner tonight?
Well I decided it was true. So I decided to do some deep thinking. And I found the answer – pasta with garlic bread and salad.
Now while that answered question 3 and 4, and it was a delicious answer too, I really didn’t find an answer to the others. (Actually I got bored and there was a really great FRIENDS episode on, so I got distracted).
The point is I fail to understand what’s the big deal about introspection and looking for answers to life. In my opinion life isn’t a question to be answered, it’s a puzzle you unravel bit by bit at every stage.
That’s what makes it fun. That’s what makes it interesting.
Its like a mystery book – some peek at the last page to know the end, while others read page by page – enjoying every twist and turn. That’s the legion I belong to, I like not knowing what’s coming, until it does.
So next time anyone tells me I am not a deep thinker – my retort simple and albeit borrowed from reebok is going to be “I AM WHAT I AM”
-------X------X------
Now I know what this rambling post was about -: SHOES! I need shoes! I have to go buy shoes.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Maturity Sucks!
I am more than a quarter-century old; which makes a whole lot of years to look back at during those introspective times. Yet, these past 4 years stand apart from the rest. These were not life-altering years by any means. I did not create history, I did not fall in love, I did not shatter any records …. What I did do was make a great bunch of friends. You know the ones really bad Hindi-movies are made of? That sort.
Time passed with them so quickly that I didn’t realize until a few days ago exactly how much time has gone by. Now things are changing. People shifting, getting married…generally moving on.
All of which are good things to happen. It shows we have all grown.. in our relationships, in our careers, in our lives. Does that make me happy? Of course it does. But not completely. Not absolutely. There is a lot to look forward to, but I can’t help and wonder whether we are leaving behind something that we will never get again.
Fun times. Times of complete idiocy. Quarrels that get blown into full fledged wars. Laughter that leads to completely insane moments. From the most inane conversations to philosophical discussions. Conversations that always meant something even when they were at their meaningless best.
Meetings that became a daily routine. Late night coffees that became a habit.
The child in me says thing won’t change. The adult in me disagrees. Things will change. For the better. Stronger relationships. The beginning of happily ever after for some. The start of a new story.
That’s my quarter-century maturity talking. I hate maturity.
Monday, November 06, 2006
The Manhunt Is On …
There I was having a nice conversation over coffee at Mochas when suddenly out of the blue, my friends decided that we should all get married on January 2009. Lest your imaginations run wild, let me state that we were not planning on a wild orgy or a Draupadi copycat, but generally about the fact that we would get married on the same date to our respective sweethearts on the same day.
We worked out the cost per family, discussed on the venue, menu, the riti riwazases
to be followed etc etc etc. We also decided that now would be a good time to inform
our families about it so that they can start their planning well, really well in advance.
Now that all is planned, I have decided to start planning accordingly. Planning is nowadays my favourite word courtesy my friend Ashish who likes to plan everything, but somehow never manages to do so. To get back to it, I have started ‘planning’ for January 2009. There are a lot of things to do. First in the list is finding a guy to get married to. Now don’t get me wrong I do meet lots of guys but they are either too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too serious, too crazy, too unambitious, too ambitious, too sensitive, too insensitive, too cynical or too optimistic to suit my taste. C’mon guys haven’t you heard of moderation??? Be a little of everything achcha hai…
Coming back to it I am now on a hunt for Mr Right, well he doesn’t exactly have to be Mr Right but he should at least be more than a Mr Ok. The trouble is all the good guys are already taken, guess I started on this search too late in life. Now if you are looking for a point to this article, there really isn’t one, it’s just something I am writing coz I am taking a break from work. But hey if there is a guy around, what the hell, there is no harm trying your luck is there?
Now I am a fervent believer in the ‘when the right guy comes along I’ll know dictum’, so if any of you are interested in applying for the Mr Right post, you can stand in the stations between Mahim and Churchgate -- when I see u ill know. Your deadline is December 2008. The rest, if you know a good psychiatrist post his name and number on this blog, after re-reading this article I think I am in severe need of one. J
We worked out the cost per family, discussed on the venue, menu, the riti riwazases
to be followed etc etc etc. We also decided that now would be a good time to inform
our families about it so that they can start their planning well, really well in advance.
Now that all is planned, I have decided to start planning accordingly. Planning is nowadays my favourite word courtesy my friend Ashish who likes to plan everything, but somehow never manages to do so. To get back to it, I have started ‘planning’ for January 2009. There are a lot of things to do. First in the list is finding a guy to get married to. Now don’t get me wrong I do meet lots of guys but they are either too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too serious, too crazy, too unambitious, too ambitious, too sensitive, too insensitive, too cynical or too optimistic to suit my taste. C’mon guys haven’t you heard of moderation??? Be a little of everything achcha hai…
Coming back to it I am now on a hunt for Mr Right, well he doesn’t exactly have to be Mr Right but he should at least be more than a Mr Ok. The trouble is all the good guys are already taken, guess I started on this search too late in life. Now if you are looking for a point to this article, there really isn’t one, it’s just something I am writing coz I am taking a break from work. But hey if there is a guy around, what the hell, there is no harm trying your luck is there?
Now I am a fervent believer in the ‘when the right guy comes along I’ll know dictum’, so if any of you are interested in applying for the Mr Right post, you can stand in the stations between Mahim and Churchgate -- when I see u ill know. Your deadline is December 2008. The rest, if you know a good psychiatrist post his name and number on this blog, after re-reading this article I think I am in severe need of one. J
Thursday, October 12, 2006
female bashing!
i had always heard that women are extremely harsh on their own gender. i realised how true that is, a few days back, when my group was having a discussion about the beauty and sensuality of women we know in common and the female stars of the world. to my surprise the pretty females in my group had hardly anything good to say about the looks of the creed. now my logic is that pretty woman always have a thing against other pretty women. its simple actually, pretty women see other pretty women as something of a intruder in their territory which they obviously are determined to protect. or maybe its just a competitive streak u know the ‘uski sari meri sari se safed kaise’ types.
what is perhaps the most amazing part is the excuses they give for disliking women, she’s pretty but in a dumb sort of a way, she has a good body but the face of a horse, she’s not sexy she looks like a you know what etc etc etc
i for one think that the ingenuity of the female race is just amazing. yeah I belong to that race too, but since I am not in the competition zone of pretty/sexy/attractive women I am not bothered much about it.
Now you may say that this piece is just an excuse for bitching about other women or a fishing hole for compliments… but heck this is my space so what the hell, so be it!!!!
what is perhaps the most amazing part is the excuses they give for disliking women, she’s pretty but in a dumb sort of a way, she has a good body but the face of a horse, she’s not sexy she looks like a you know what etc etc etc
i for one think that the ingenuity of the female race is just amazing. yeah I belong to that race too, but since I am not in the competition zone of pretty/sexy/attractive women I am not bothered much about it.
Now you may say that this piece is just an excuse for bitching about other women or a fishing hole for compliments… but heck this is my space so what the hell, so be it!!!!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
The all famous rut
Every day people tell me, and I say it back to them, that “my life is stuck in a rut!” if you think of life as a product, then ‘the rut’ is perhaps the greatest brand ever invented. Nobody wants it, yet everybody has it in their lives. And it has phenomenal brand loyalty. It sticks to u throughout lives.
Look at it this way, as an infant all you do is eat, sleep and poop. That’s what you do all day for at least the first couple of years of your life. Life in a rut. Later, you go to school, hang out with friends, go back home, pitter patter with folks, hang out with friends and go back to school the next morning. This rut stays with you for 15-16 years of life, depending upon how much you study. Then comes the next rut, you start working – “now my life is really gonna be different”, you say. Think again… it’s just another rut. You work the whole goddamn day and then you go home. If you have any friends left, you hang out with them and then you go home. Now life’s back on a rut again.
I met a guy that day. His life is cool. He’s job entails a lot of travelling, partying and meeting new people. “Now that’s what I call a life”, I said to myself, “at least he’s not on the same rut”. But surprise, surprise --- he says his life is on a rut too!!!! Because that’s what he does every day, every week, every month….
Hat’s off to brand rut. You got everyone didn’t you? Now if u’r reading this for any suggestions on how to get your life out of a rut, frankly speaking I have none to offer. However if you have any suggestions please do mail them to me. This posting is just a tribute to Brand Rut – you are definitely the most powerful brand around and I sincerely hope that you live as less as possible and disappear off the face of the world soon.
PS: As u can see my life is really stuck on a rut. Suggestions anyone?
Look at it this way, as an infant all you do is eat, sleep and poop. That’s what you do all day for at least the first couple of years of your life. Life in a rut. Later, you go to school, hang out with friends, go back home, pitter patter with folks, hang out with friends and go back to school the next morning. This rut stays with you for 15-16 years of life, depending upon how much you study. Then comes the next rut, you start working – “now my life is really gonna be different”, you say. Think again… it’s just another rut. You work the whole goddamn day and then you go home. If you have any friends left, you hang out with them and then you go home. Now life’s back on a rut again.
I met a guy that day. His life is cool. He’s job entails a lot of travelling, partying and meeting new people. “Now that’s what I call a life”, I said to myself, “at least he’s not on the same rut”. But surprise, surprise --- he says his life is on a rut too!!!! Because that’s what he does every day, every week, every month….
Hat’s off to brand rut. You got everyone didn’t you? Now if u’r reading this for any suggestions on how to get your life out of a rut, frankly speaking I have none to offer. However if you have any suggestions please do mail them to me. This posting is just a tribute to Brand Rut – you are definitely the most powerful brand around and I sincerely hope that you live as less as possible and disappear off the face of the world soon.
PS: As u can see my life is really stuck on a rut. Suggestions anyone?
Friday, July 14, 2006
The other side of resilience!
Everybody nowadays is hailing the never-say-die spirit of Mumbai and Mumbaikars. The city’s ability to bounce back from tragedies is being eulogized about and the citizens are being praised to the skies for the admirable way in which they helped each other that fatal night. Now don’t get me wrong, I am a big fan of Mumbai and Mumbaikars. I too agree wholeheartedly that the city’s indomitable spirit is to be admired and respected. But amongst all that respect and admiration is a twinge of uncertainty. Call it cynicism if you will, and I am a self professed cynic, but I think this bouncing-back-from-tragedies characteristic is a bit worrisome. What may be construed as indestructibility might just be that the city is getting used to tragedies and is simply too tired to fight back. So life goes on as usual. Praise for helping each other, might just be a lack of faith in basic humanity. So that when people actually do something naturally human, they are praised as messiahs.
I love this city. I think it is a great place to be in. But I also believe that a show of too much strength is not good. Not for an individual, not for a city. One has at times to break down and weep. For the people, for the loss, for their city. Me believes that real strength lies in breaking down and building again when something cracks, not acknowledging that crack, is denial not strength.
Mumbai is a strong city and it will always remain so… but today I think its time that we stopped praising Mumbai for not crying and lend it a shoulder instead. Maybe its time we stopped thinking about its ability to bounce back from tragedies and ensure that those tragedies don’t occur again. Maybe its time we stop a minute to mourn instead of carrying on life as usual again.
I love this city. I think it is a great place to be in. But I also believe that a show of too much strength is not good. Not for an individual, not for a city. One has at times to break down and weep. For the people, for the loss, for their city. Me believes that real strength lies in breaking down and building again when something cracks, not acknowledging that crack, is denial not strength.
Mumbai is a strong city and it will always remain so… but today I think its time that we stopped praising Mumbai for not crying and lend it a shoulder instead. Maybe its time we stopped thinking about its ability to bounce back from tragedies and ensure that those tragedies don’t occur again. Maybe its time we stop a minute to mourn instead of carrying on life as usual again.
Monday, July 10, 2006
The world is getting smaller!!
Or so I have heard. But the way I see it, a smaller world has caused people to grow distant from one another. A long long time ago when people still used to use the pen and paper, a lot of you young uns were not around then, staying in touch with people was a tough job. You had to write letter, stamp them, post them and then wait for ages to get an answer. Admittedly I frequently forgot to stamp or post the letter, but the point is staying in touch took an effort which people willingly took. The letters were full of titbits about one’s daily life and frequently had lots of details that friends were probably not interested in. But courtesy those letters, at least the ones which were posted, people knew what was happening in each other’s lives. A flash forward to today and you have an inbox that is full of messages from your friends. But alas! They are all forwards, some which are hilarious, some which are interesting and others which are just plain dumb. But hey your friend has remembered you and now you can respond instantly. So what do you do? You send them another forward which yet another friend has sent you and yipeeee! You are in touch with all your friends. Unfortunately you still have no idea what is happening in their lives.
And then of course you have the gods of internet, Yahoo and msn, who provide you with messengers that enable you to chat instantly with your friends. Unfortunately they come with busy and BRB icons that always make you reluctant to buzz in case your friend is really busy. Of course since u cant see who u r actually chatting with, you might end up sending a particularly insulting message to ur friend’s dad, mom, girlfriend who had just switched on the comp. Believe me guys that is an embarrassing situation.
And then again see how the world of art and music have been affected by this
world-come-closer-thingie. Earlier we had songs of kabootars talking chiiti’s to beloveds. Now what do you do? “msn ja ja ja pehle pyar ka pehla chat…. “ or maybe a “sms aaya hai aaya hai sms aaya hai”???? See doesn’t have the same ring to it does it???
Well I know I am just plain blabbering now so am gonna stop. But please if any of my friends who I am “in touch with” happen to read this. Send me a letter or two. And even if u forget to put the stamp on.. it will be quite oke with me. You will get my response the same day… through e-mail.
And then of course you have the gods of internet, Yahoo and msn, who provide you with messengers that enable you to chat instantly with your friends. Unfortunately they come with busy and BRB icons that always make you reluctant to buzz in case your friend is really busy. Of course since u cant see who u r actually chatting with, you might end up sending a particularly insulting message to ur friend’s dad, mom, girlfriend who had just switched on the comp. Believe me guys that is an embarrassing situation.
And then again see how the world of art and music have been affected by this
world-come-closer-thingie. Earlier we had songs of kabootars talking chiiti’s to beloveds. Now what do you do? “msn ja ja ja pehle pyar ka pehla chat…. “ or maybe a “sms aaya hai aaya hai sms aaya hai”???? See doesn’t have the same ring to it does it???
Well I know I am just plain blabbering now so am gonna stop. But please if any of my friends who I am “in touch with” happen to read this. Send me a letter or two. And even if u forget to put the stamp on.. it will be quite oke with me. You will get my response the same day… through e-mail.
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