Friday, March 29, 2013

Whiky Whiky Whaa Whaa

Firstly, this post has nothing to do with the title. So if you were misled I suggest you go back to porn or Facebook. Although, why anyone would read and watch porn at the same time is beyond me.

You don't ever need to look into a calender to know Holi is approaching. It's the same sort of Game of Thrones intuition we Indians share that lets us feel the coming of a well proportioned water balloon in advance. Half water-half air in a plastic bag for greater impact. Obviously. It's this love for physics and chemistry that makes every parent think his son is destined for a life in a beautiful Powai campus, or Kharagpur or Kanpur or Madras.......

I've never been a huge fan of Holi. I played it all my childhood but there's just something about my face being pinker than usual or being green all over like the Hulk took a Talwalkar's crash diet plan..... and succeeded that just doesn't appeal to me. A typical holi morning would involve you waking up to a bunch of DJs who may have never played a gig at 9am. Dishing out item numbers like it's their Mahalaxmi Race Course moment of fame. It's quite possible that over the course of your day you go on to hear every type of song from Himesh classics to worn out item numbers to Amitabh Bachchan karaoke and if you're really lucky you might just get an Enrique and the world that is your neighbourhood will slow down to an emotional mess.

The festival does bring with it the highest possibility that you will be inappropriately touched but really in the end it's not the biggest problem you have on your hands when an oversized Mr. Parikh is dancing all around you drenched in colour "wiggling" to sent specks of water flying all over the neighbourhood. Really, if you are a child don't party at the same place as your parents. It'll save you a lot in psychoanalysis later on but possibly explain your love for the word disco. I don't have a job but to me dancing on from 9 to 5 on your midweek holiday sounds like an excellent plan to keep the balance, only here you go back the next day with silver ears. Note to self: Once in life set a business meeting for the day after Holi.

So my objective on Holi is to stay dry. Hours of scrubbing doesn't sound fun. A real killé de buzz I am. I read a Faasos ad in the newspaper saying they'd deliver. That's a great deal but still didn't explain why my food looked yellow. I needed to get out for food supplies. DAMN. Walking on the poorly placed pink paver tiles of Khar and looking at the dazed, high on bhang, wrinkled and multicolored folk who are forced to do the math for new seat covers after they realize they have to drive their Honda Citys back home, it hit me that this is the closest we are getting to a Zombie Apocalypse.

In the end, I did make it back home but hey when has life been so easy. Taking a bucket of water to fill the turtle tank I felt motion and inertia the way Newton and those other people felt it. Getting away from Holi could never have been simple. The first rule of carrying a pail of water is "Tie your shoelaces" as Jack would say but the second rule is don't walk too fast. Walking through the hall it took just three seconds for inertia to be my biggest enemy and when I looked down on my tshirt, there it was, Holi's Revenge.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

How I Met @ThatRandomGirlOverTheInternet

Sitting aimlessly in the canteen, I was hit by a force so evil, calling her a bitch would well be a huge understatement. Slapping me on the head she walked by with a cunning smile. She does deserve to do it really, if it weren't for her I wouldn't be in the canteen at that very moment being hit on the head by her.

Doesn't make sense? Let me roll back a couple of months....

To be fair to every flashback made in history you have to picture me with a different hairdo and 90s specific clothing(even though we're still in 2011, trust me do it) and those of you who haven't got the chance of meeting me, let your imagination run free.

Environmental Studies has got to be the most pointless subject ever. The reason why we study something that's already screwed up is beyond me and it's this wave of boredom that finally made me sign back in, onto Twitter after almost a year. Now what exactly does one do on twitter? Well the simplest answer is Troll celebrities. However if you use your brain that little percent more, you would realize that twitter can actually be an Orkut.

That storm of random befriending that all began on the Qeiencieing capital of the world, somehow managed to spill onto Facebook and I think after this, may (just may) take that little blue bird by surprise. Okay so bored Rohan logs onto twitter, @MTVIndia has some weird sexist poll on, and what does he do! Pwns all those delhi guys with the lamest twitter reply ever!

As far as @SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere goes, it caught her attention. And thus began the weirdest getting to know a random stranger session ever.

Turns out we had alot in common, I mean A LOT, stupid-crazy-mean girl does everything I do, even to an extent where I was convinced she's just in my head and I'm hallucinating over the internet. I still think I am, no 2 people can be so alike. Grammar Nazi, Lemon Ice Tea, Thepla Nazi, No Phone Conversations and Texting FTW.  The first time I met her I didn't even have her phone number, a good laugh over the awkward silences every 5 minutes. It didn't take long to get her convinced there's a Hill Road Stalker dude who covers her every move.

Now I'm too lazy to keep pressing Page Down to reach the actual conversations we've had over the summer, so I'm gonna make up an extract, but trust me it's pretty close to actual conversations that took place.

@SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere : Eww creep, get away

Me : Arre chhamiya idhar toh dekho

@SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere : Ugghhh

Me: Phool ki kaliya (No idea what that means, I get those cable movie channels at home)

@SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere : BLOCK

Me : Sad Smiley

@SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere : Awwwww....here take my name, phone number, address. Oh facebook mutual friend. You can send me a friend request too.

Me : Score!

Yeah! that's pretty much how, yeah! that's how I do it. In a nutshell. That's all it was and ever will be, no need to check

See it's events like these that actually make me believe in destiny. Just around the time where I was contemplating a huge shift in my life, I meet @SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere.
And after all those conversations about Gujju Rappers, Chiggy Wiggy and Curd she did end up having a huge influence on my life. Cured my excessive dot syndrome and oh look I'm in her college now!

After all that, even if I'll never know her real birthdate I'm glad I signed in that night!

So bored out of your mind college kids, take a leaf out of my book. Twitter Stalking is the next level!

Oh and @SheDoesntWantMeToUseHerNameHere next time I throw Ice Tea at you, k?

Friday, October 21, 2011

That White Glow On My TV Screen

Funny how everytime I'm at home during vacations there's nothing interesting to watch on TV. A 100+ channels, what are the odds of finding nothing even mildly amusing to watch or atleast CID! Eh Such is life I guess

Ignorance isn't bliss, no way jose. I'm particularly glad there isn't a single good show on tv which doesn't involve hormonal teenagers, Delhi studs and badly animated dinosaurs ( yes Tera Nova, I'm talking about you). So the day passes by, mocking one Facebook troll at a time, till you can finally derive some pleasure to consolidate your day by watching the Shakti Kapoor Premier League.

How long can you possibly stay angry at the idiot box? Well not long, no matter what, it always finds a way to redeem itself and how!!

My hourly channel flipping brought me to the biggest, beautiful, most amazing resevoir if I may, of sadistic pleasure. 

Simi's back!

Why is she back? Right after Karan Johar got done interviewing the same people over 6 months? Not a clue guys. It's a good thing they let her to do it, because theres simply no way we know EVERYTHING about our movie stars and if they won't spill the beans to Karan we'll just get everyone's favorite kitty party aunty to do it.

We all grow up with this one pesky aunty who loves to know everything that goes on in your life. Who would never miss out an opportunity to rip your cheeks right off your face and when you're old enough tug you at a wedding and say "you're next beta". 

Simi aunty is no different, protruding into these 'desirable' stars' lives like an un called for colonoscopy. Here's where the difference sets in, Sims McQueen actually takes it one step further by well interviewing their parents and that over concerned look on her face! 

Although I have no memory of Simi Garewal's show from the late 90s, "MTVs Rendezvous with Semi Girebaal" did enough to let me know her current show well  comes across as a cheap remix (with a family pack of Botox) The theme song for which looks to be composed by an 8 year old kid at his first Casio lesson. 

The audience too, well for one look awe stuck, probably because Simi Aunty looks like a Patronas right from Harry Potter. The reason why they sit there and watch so intently, nodding their heads surprises me. Really? Asin being followed by boys when she was a kid is interesting? Surely that makes hunger in Africa mind-numbing in comparison. However, if you do want to dance with your favorite star, this may just be the place to do it. Birthday party punishments are back, and boy does she know how to use them. "Sing to that girl if you don't want to tell her who you dated". Ofcourse this is important information, we must know! God Bless you, you angel in white.
It's one thing to sit there and watch a person being interviewed, quite another to sit there and watch a screen which plays the interview. Idiota del grade uno for those who actually went to the studio thinking they'd get to meet GaGa.

Now my favourite element has got to be without doubt Kinki or Kiki or whatever it's called. What better way to promote abstinence than by freaking out little viewers. How do you expect a kid to ever ever learn how to talk dirty if he sees an 80 year old lady do it. Imagine Simi's kids :/ The Kiki(Kinki) voice will probably get her into the Guinness book for the squeakiest voice to leave a woman's tonsils, may also get her a job as a professional Bat-Caller-er person :| (Job avenues Simi :D)

What do you know Kiki also invokes excessive emoticon usage.

 Sources tell me she actually had her birthday a few days back, great, makes this all the more auspicious.
Here's to the Thin-Young-Notevenclosetobalding-Woman who shows us it's never too late to change your dressing sense!

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

What they don't teach you at Harvard

Before I start off let me make it clear, at this point in time, I have no creative impulse(hardly ever do) and for some reason I seemed to have disturbed a 13 hour sleep to lug myself to the computer. Today, I'd like to recount an incident that I came across yesterday. So here I go as Cobra Starship plays in the background. We'll just let them sing, they keep me awake.

I'm all for helping less fortunate kids, but I'm not the best teacher to really impart wisdom to these 9 year olds. I mean getting me to teach is like getting Santa to join the Gym, it's just plain wrong, disturbs the natural order of things. Oh! but how wrong I was.

From afar this building in the interiors of a slum ridden locality of Khar East looks like a busted old abandoned school, the walls turned green because of moisture(I'm guessing, because if that's the original color scheme then DAMN) the gates almost falling off, and cows surrounding the place like a SWAT team ready to bust some crime syndicate. Walk a little close and you'll see this is pretty much true, except for the abandoned bit. Yes that did mean there is a crime syndicate inside there somewhere because apparently there were kids cleaning desks for their teachers who were gearing them up for a "chowki cleaning exam" ummm....fair enough I guess, see I'm not gonna diss the chowki cleaning simply because 10 years down the line I'd seem like a pretty big idiot if my employer has a Masters in Chowki Cleaning and I'm just a stupid advertising major who has no idea about putting cloths on desks and moving them in circular motion.

My class on the other hand had an Art exam, yayy messy 4th grade kids flinging paint. Just what I needed after spending the morning running around South Bombay.

The teachers sat on their desk making study aids and indulging in the Indian Aunty Tradition of Gossip, I'm a bitch so I stuck around to hear them talk about some lady named Sarita who apparently has issues with landlord and rent, Well Sarita, chowki cleaning is fun, but doesn't pay the bills.

I knew this conversation was over when the first teacher, Julie, turned to the other one holding a pair of scissors and shouting "Don't worry, tu toh ekdam "ANGEELA JOLLY" hai" (You look like "Angeela Jolly"  for all you Hindically challenged readers.) Why was this lady was compared to Angelina Jolie, I don't know. Probably because she may have the same number of kids :/ . I don't know, I can only speculate here. (based on well looking at her)

Julie and Jolly, wow! sound's like female buddy cop movie, I'd pay to watch that. Hope they hire good writers because with their English you may not need to dub for a specific Bhojpuri version. Merchandising with J&J all over it, sweeet. Okay, I'm drifting, so getting back to the Khar School for  Chowki Training. Art exam seemed to be done, all the pictures seemed identical, but you can't blame that on the kids.

Julie now got up revise Science with these kids. Gee wow! 4th grade science how tough can that be. I was in for a little surprise, my ego may have deleted most of this information from my head because well I DIDN'T KNOW SHIT!

I want you guys to try this out, because you may be a Harvard Grad, IIT nerd or simply one of those people who cry after each exam, you may not get this one.
I'm serious when I say this isn't for the light hearted.

Okay so here,
Pick the odd one out

Plastic, SPOILT, Home, Food, Fruit
5 words, which one seems most out of place. Go on.
.
.
.
.
The right answer for this one is PLASTIC. why? well according to Julie, You eat food at home, food gets spoilt, Food is food and fruits also in some cultures are considered fruit. While plastic, this thing called plastic has nothing to do with food. Hmmm....Bravo Julie, way to teach these kids, they didn't know what they were talking about when they argued that the word spoilt seemed suspicious.

For the next one take a little more time. Because it is that tough.

Complete the word
W_S_G_E
Remember this is a science paper. The kids had just one text book to go through. You guys have the internet. Make good use.
I'm gonna go listen to something else while you figure this out, probably The Beatles. Also figure out my excessive use of commas.
.
.
.
.
.
.
So it's Julie 2 Stupid People on the Internet 0

The answer her is W-A-S-T-G-E
Wastge! You're wrong and millions spent on your education don't mean shit if you said , WASTAGE.

I really hope Julie is the brain in Julie and Jolly because she was on fire!!!

The fun seemed to end here as my now favorite buddy cop seemed to depart, imparting wisdom to these kids and leaving me overwhelmed with a sense of inferiority.

In walks Mr. Pedo, a well dressed Hindi professor who had more than just love for his students, but we'll leave that for another day, another blog. However, in my mind he was a bore who couldn't live up to J&J

Pedo teacher began his Hindi-alphabets till he reached "B"

When a kid, probably still in Science Hangover stood up and shouted "B for Bhosad" (Indian Equivalent of Vagina)

Ah Bliss!

Friday, August 19, 2011

Daniel, Is that you?

Well I've hogged this Url for a while now and I finally came up with something worthwhile to put up here.
Enjoy!


Sleep had become an issue. No matter how hard he tried, he lay awake all night twisting and turning. He looked at his cell phone, no new messages. Even trying now is futile he thought as he climbed out of bed and lit a cigarette.

Smoking, he walked out the room to his desk. His medical report lay there, as he flipped through the pages he recalled his meeting with Dr. Phillips. Weeks of testing brought the news that the cancer was well incurable and death was imminent.

As the first cigarette ran out he threw it to the ground , lit another and sat on the couch. Switched on the tv, Seinfeld was playing. Only, his mind wasn't on the everyday adventures of Jerry and his friends. Sitting back he reflected on the life that he had lived.

First love, first kiss, college, first job, his marriage to Marcy he relived them all.

Memories filled his head the same way the smoke filled the room. Reminiscing, a tear crept out his eye. He had but one regret, never being there for his son, Daniel.

He spent the last week trying to get in touch with his son but to no avail. He kept looking at his phone in intervals, in vain.

The smoke scattered the light of the now rising sun across the room. A sense of warmth crept through his body as he took in another puff.

He looked one last time at his cell phone, nothing! The TV played on mute as his head fell back, he took in a deep breath as the cigarette fell from his hand. Suddenly he wasn't tired anymore, a smile broke across his face. With a peaceful expression he shut his eyes and breathed his last.

The sun had risen, whilst Seinfeld concluded his show and the channel broke into a commercial break. The amount of smoke in the room had reduced but Tony Dein still lay there.

Next to him the cell phone screen suddenly burst to life. It began vibrating as the screen lit up.

"Daniel Calling" it read.