Shauk Absorbers and Fools in anniversaries.

I had been cribbing about getting board at home with a complete lack of work to do. I was naadaan! After 5 days of separation from internet-ben, I finally checked my emale to find a shauk. Miebank had decided to paripone my entry into the world of salaried men. O bhayee. What a rush yaar! But like other shauks, I had to absorb this one as well. And now, this bhola bhaala bachcha will enter the grind of corporate juggernaut in less than a week.
Last Sunday, my bhaiya celebrated his first marriage anniversary. How time flies by, we all [at least the rest of us] say! And there were so many bookays, one whole tabull was filled with fools.
What do you do when :
-someone asks you, "Why are you", instead of the more popular expression. Actually to this one, you could say, "Cogito Ergo Sum", but every reader worth his/her TQ will agree that the question treads on a dangerous territory. The details and further thoughts are best banished even before conception!
-you gift someone flowers and she/he takes more care of them than you ever thought possible. And the bookey you thought would last a few days is not discarded till it really must be!
-you see people living in conditions you had only seen on TV or in movies. The filth and dirt strikes a deep cord inside you, and you wonder how humans can get acclimatized to accepting such a treatment and still appearing grateful.
-you can't lose something for everything or everything for something, but something is everything while everything is only something
-you must choose between jalebi, watermelon and rossagulla!

An Esteem LXi with very low esteem has held its poise under my driving in the cantonment area. While driving, I had to floor the brakes whenever a truck appeared, whenever I got to less than 5 meters from the behind of any human being and whenever the navigator said anything more complicated than take left or take right. Like, "look, there's a car coming from the left". Luckily, jaan aur maal ki koi honey nahi hui.

From the movie Anwar: (link to full lyrics of the song)
...

mujhse yeh har ghadi, mera dil kahe
tum hi ho uski aarzoo,

mujhse yeh har ghadi, mere lab kahe
teri hi ho sab guftagoo

baatein teri itni haseen, mein yaad inko jab karta hoon
phoolon si aaye, khusboo

...

Also:

...

kshama ko pigalne ka armaan kyun hai???
patange ko jalne ka armaan kyun hai???
isi shaqt ka intehaan zindagi hai
isi shaqt ka intehaan zindagi hai

...
Its a wonderful song from the movie Anwar. Really recommended for movie buffs, normal human beings and gundas!

Lazy bijnessmen and long walks.

April 08 2007

Amaa yaar, mein pareshan ho gaya. Badi takalluf mein daal diya hai nawabi style wale in dukandaron ne.

The keyboard cable of my desktop was as helpless under the heavy handling of ‘Safe’xpress as a bollywood heroine in the garage of Shakti Kapoor. Bebas. Laachaar. And the nearest computer shopwalla guy refuses to solve the issue expediently. Till then, I am sharpening my skills in Solitaire and Minesweeper. And resolving channel conflicts at home. And spending a crazy amount of time surfing through channels without watching them. And so on.

I like to go on long walks [in the background: zindagiiiiiiii, kaisi hai paheli haiye….]. To counter the attack of the forces of boredom, I went on a walking spree this evening. Mom claims it must have been six kilometers while I only attach a more modest four kilometer tag to it. I had almost reached the point where they say, “Thank you for your visit to Lucknow” when I saw another hoarding which read “Ghar per log aapka intezar kar rahe hain”.

But try it once if you have never done it. Stop wondering about where you are going. Not advisable if you often forget the way back from your toilet to kitchen. But otherwise, it is fun. Just walking, without concerns, time limit or destination. Brisk walking, almost to the point where the only pedestrians who overtake you are chain snatchers. Tiring, stiffening your calf muscles, but not painful. The advantage of being alone on such a walk is that it makes the task of tackling the traffic easier, especially if you are traversing through the narrow roads of old Lucknow. As Strato once said, you can’t help some people who will pop up by your side. Never mind. But yeah, unless you are my better half, do it alone. Oops.

Ridiculous. That is how I greet the notion that fresh, raw oysters, sprinkled with salt and pepper could be a delicacy. Let the channels show famous connoisseurs of dining and wining eat with relish oysters, new-born crocodiles, fish eyes and ostrich organs. Doesn’t matter if ‘refined’ people call me lacking in taste. I am content with calling Catwoman the woman without substance. Except in some places.

From the movie Inteha:

Dhalne lagi hai raat, koi baat keejiye

Kat jayegi yeh raat, koi baat keejiye

Hai zindagi ka sath, koi baat keejiye

Kat jayegi yeh raat, koi baat keejiye

Jane tanhayee, humse kya keh rahi hai

Dil ki gehrayee, humse kya keh rahi hai

Ek ek pal ke saath, koi baat keejiye

Ban ker rahegi baat, koi baat keejiye ...

Summary: koi baat keejiye.

News from the bored-room.

April 07, 2007

“Khabar ko todte hue” scream all news channels. All day long, poor souls keep breaking news. And each bit of news is repeated until you can recount the sequence in which security guards will move in the footage, the order in which the headlines will be read and the crooked question that netaji will parry away.

My own discovery, meanwhile, is that there are at least one thousand crappy, absolutely unwatchable movies for each worth watching. There are some good programs though they also get repeated around 5 times in the week. Discovery’s favorites are snakes, crocs and sharks. But I have begun to like MaxX, Ripley’s, Guinness, KBC II and Laughter Challenge. And I have lost count of Prison Break.

The likes of Van Diesel and Stallone have made it look like breaking a man’s skull with one solid punch is easier than watching TV. Or breaking news.

From the movie Fanaa:

Yeh saazish hai boondon ki

Kuch khwahish hai chup chup si

Dekho na… dekho na…

Chinese torture.

April 06, 2007

A particular channel has gone into a mad frenzy of showing Chinese martial arts movies [are other genres available?] Every movie begins with a funny casting. Jin Hu as Lu Jong. Mao Lee as Jen Ton. Sounds like a random collection of one [or at most two] syllable sounds. Imagine the gujju version of that famous person : Ang Sang Su Chche. [Majaa maa].

To mothers around the world wary of my charming skills: please be calm. While circumstantial evidence can prove anything, I am no Shakti Kapoor. And daughters around the globe are safe. The PYT killer stands tamed, having himself fallen prey to a PYT. The PYT, I should say!

The idea of not having to return back to IIMA campus sounds as ridiculous as watching Scary Movie 3 at home. And as desirable, at this hour. By the way, it is on air right now but a squad of mahila morcha has captured the TV post. All sorts of saas bahu sounds can be heard in that vicinity, and I am steering clear of that area.

Working for a name that is known among common people has its disadvantages. People ask awkward questions. Someone asked me “Which branch are you posted in?” when she got to know that I will be working in a bank. I somehow diverted the discussion, confident that in her throat, waiting to be emitted, were the words: “Humein home loan chahiye”. At times like these I wish I worked for Hun Jin Tao Corporation which manufactured unmentionable somethings. Due apologies if something exists by that time.

Also important: Today pappu turns 23. Its time people stopped defaming the Farex baby by likening Pappu’s laughing buddha posture to a Farex baby smile. For the uninitiated, this refers to a comparison in Images 2007, the yearbook published at IIMA for the batch of 2007. Strato seems to enjoy the comparison, and as cute and lovely as it may sound coming from her, my heart goes out for the poor farex baby. “Chal hat, pervert” I hear her snub me!

Beghar in my dreams.

April 05, 2007

These days, I dream of Chumree. And I must sympathize with non-Mumbaikars who might confuse Chumree to be a distant cousin of Chameli. Lord forbid, mein abhi tak seedha sadha bachcha hi hoon.

I dream of a roof to live under and protect my izzat, or whatever remains of it. Fir usmein ghar grihasti bhi basani hai.

And before other things are said and ignored, or lost in air, Pappu pass ho gaya. Finally no more attending classes till someone declares that I am not conversant with alphabets and numerals. HSBC has decided to let me in, and pay me a hefty sum for ridding their office of houseflies and mosquitoes. Poor souls. And I even have a plan B in case there are no insects left to spat.

Extreme worklessness, I have discovered, is the surest way to madness. And I have been trying hard to fend off the latter. As of the former, till such time as the GoodKnights and Caspers are doing their job well in Mumbai, I am workless. As workless as a dead ant. And I don’t even have formic acid to pinch and pain the humans around me.

I laid my hands on Mark Tully’s collection of short stories. While I admire his love for India, his account is uninformative for all of us who have been brought up here. It is also bland and lacks the juice to keep the readers’ attention transfixed. Contrast that with Cat O Nine Tails by Jeffrey Archer. While there is nothing so magnificent about the stories, his storytelling elevates them from mediocre to much more readable.

Off late I have also been wondering if the carrots and fish I have eaten so far would suffice to stave off the danger of eyeglasses from a hefty dose of TV. I guess God decided to compensate for the previous few years that I spent almost without watching TV except for brief spells. Maa kasam, and many people including the likes of Strato would vouch for this. Meri nazar Rampuri churi se bhi tez hai. Door door ki cheezein dhoondh leti hain.

Before I met Strato, I used to be able to spot interesting targets from as far away as a mile. If only I had applied in time to Guinness-wala bhai who keeps all those records. Subuk Subuk, ab to bahut der ho gayee hai.

Phases and Faces.

April 04, 2007

Life has so many phases – some completely unforgettable ones. And it is surprisingly similar with faces. Many of them and some unforgettable ones.

You know na, I write arbit stuff to avoid writing senty stuff. [In the true Diamond comics style: subuk subuk ]

I attended my second convocation in a little less than 2 years. I am now officially an engineer and a manager. Can feel my chest become [oops – rhyming can be a dangerous business!]. Rephrase: Can feel my chest inflate with false pride. The convocation at IITK was held inside the AC auditorium. Here at IIMA, they decided to do things their own sweet (and hot) way. So the convocation was held in the open grounds, with every recipient exuding more sweat than either pride or happiness. I sympathize profusely with Dr Singhania’s right palm.

There was a method even in this madness. Just preceding the convocation was the group photograph session for the batch of 2007. And it is a miracle how they fit in 300 robed men and women in such a small space and kept them there for deep roasting that lasted a full hour. Anything that followed this had to be a relief for all the harried souls and thus, the convocation ended up being more relieving than it would otherwise have been.

Life suddenly seems as barren as Gobi desert. And as exciting as gobhi dessert. No easy access to internet, no recourse to DC++ and no way to pain friends into releasing a deep argh. No waiting for the red blinker on the right bottom screen proclaiming “Chitthi aayee hai aayee hai …” in a tone that would be understood better by a family of modems and aliens than Pankaj Udhas. But I am still wondering how unpredictable life can be. And how it can land big surprises bang on your head. Like and me Strato landing up at the same place. In the typical McDonald-ian style, I’m lovin’ it.

I also have a lot in my agenda for the next month or so. Matlab bahut ho gaya. On so many occasions it has happened to me. I had a bike and a charming lady to escort. But I lacked the necessary skills. And it can be devastating for any man worth his salt. You see, I never quite got the time or occasion to learn to ride a bike. So I will now try to make up for my past sins. Faizabad aur Lucknow walon, side ho jao. Main aa raha hoon. [“Main nikla, o gaddi le ke …” playing in the background ]

There’s also a connection between me and watches. Matlab ek hi saans mein Vyom, watch aur gift bol do to Jupiter mein explosion ho jayega. I have gifted five watches, bought two and been gifted two. Phew. All this even before I have earned anything working full time. The latest one comes from Bhaiya and Bhabhi, a combined belated birthday and placement gift. Ooooh la la la.