Aal Izz Not Well

I just saw 3 Idiots. And I just had little beer to drink. And now I suddenly have a lot to say! I just found the movie ok ok. While it’s a formulaic & Masala hindi movie and I don’t like those but what actually killed the movie for me was high expectations, or rather wrong expectations. Someone had told me it was true to the book ‘5 Point someone’, while someone else had posted on FB that “It will remind you of your engineering days”, yet another post was “Best story about Friendship”, yet another was “Movie of the year”. Sorry but I didn’t find it any of the above. It was full of ‘done to death’ jokes like the space pen-pencil joke, the 4 women in Burqa getting their photograph taken, the replacing ‘chamatkaar’ with ‘balatkaar’, the mixing exam answer copies with others and a hundred others. And don't even get me started on the music.

The alcohol is hitting my brain now. And I’m just getting warmed up.

So now I will begin to spew my verbal volleys.

Engineering being the flavor of the day I will write this post as an Engineer. I will break it into 3 components. One for each idiot in me probably.

First take the Protagonist, or we say here in Hindi movies, the hero. Rancho. The character is so governed by Hindi Movie clichés, actually the whole movie is, but still. The Mr Goody two shoes, who is the brainiest, creativiest, most free spirited and of course the guy who sets all wrong right. Not possible in real life… You cannot have such a chilled out attitude…. If you don’t come out when a senior calls you, you don’t get your door peed upon. You get your door broken, you dragged outside and you getting beaten black and blue. That’s the reality of engineering college. You don’t address your final year senior by his name (assuming the helicopter guy was in the final year, because you have such projects only in the final year), and you certainly don’t walk in your director’s room to give him Gyan. There is no surer way to get flunked or worse, suspended.

In all autonomous colleges engineering or otherwise, you don’t only get grades on what you write but also on what the Prof thinks about you. So Rancho coming first in exams is also highly unlikely. There are a lot of other 'non sensical' scenes with him too, but that’s pardoned, this being a Hindi Movie and all.


Then the other guy. Raju. Ok I agree having a Bimar Baap, Buudhi Maa and Bin byahi Behan is campy. Maybe it even struck a funny chord with people, but even I being a fan of all things campy/spoof didn’t find some things funny. There is nothing funny about some guy who is poor and his all family depending upon him to make it in the world.

And if you are so desperate that you are willing to take your life if you get rusticated then you don’t do TP in the college. And you certainly don’t pee on the director’s front door. I mean one mischief getting out of hand is understandable but you don’t do it knowingly. You should be scared.


And lastly the third guy Farhan. I like him. He is the most realistic of all the characters. The engineer who actually wished to be a wild life photographer. There are a lot like him. People forced into being an engineer or doctor because his dad either could not become one, or maybe his neighbor Kapoor Uncle’s sons became. All and all it doesn’t matter why are you being forced, neither does it matter what you wished to be. You fate is sealed a long time ago.

I can speak because I am one. Ever since I was in the 4th class and lived near Bansal Classes (for the uninitiated – Bansal Classes is the best and toughest IIT entrance coaching in the country) my dad had plans of sending me there. I did not know the difference between Engineer and Engine Driver then probably, but who cares. I was just an above average student with just a few bright sparks here and there. But one day my parents bought me a form. And I was threatened with no TV, no Bike, no phone, no this, no that if I don’t get through. Scared I shut myself in the room for a w eek and only emerged out to eat. I almost topped the exam in my fear. What I did to become an engineer is another story in itself. But two things are true, first I was good at maths thought I hated it, and loved physics, still do. And secondly the reason of becoming an engineer is the same as doing MBA, the lack of a better idea. I still don’t know what I wanna do. I have thought being a DJ, Bartender, Bar Owner, Rock Star, Filmmaker, Automobile Engineer, Automobile Salesman, IT Salesman, Advertising and everything in between. And I am still confused.


But back to the movie. I’m afraid that the movie fails to break any new ground. He could have focused on the actual engineering hostel life, the tragedy of student suicides, the ineffectiveness of grades in the real life or a maybe some other real issue. But he chose to just touch these issues and move on to more frivolous stuff that pleases the crowd.

Hey, but then this is just a Masala movie and I am drunk. Who cares about my review? And Mr Chopra and Mr Hirani are laughing all the way to the bank. For them, Aaal Izz Well.

P.S. - Though it is published in the morning it was written at 11 in the night. As a matter of principle I don't drink in the mornings.

Waning Moon (Part 2)

“Bloody HSBC didn’t select me!” She threw her file as she stormed in the house. He has just got up and was still groggy from last night’s booze.” HSBC? What happened?” He asked but she didn’t reply.

“They were looking for some dumb bimbette it seems! That’s why they took that small brained, big breasted bitch Sonia”

“Hey come on, they are still other companies” He said still trying to make sense of what was she saying. Her temper was really off the hook today.

“No there are not. HSBC is the last decent company visiting the campus this year” “I think it’s better to join a call centre and sleep with my boss now than sit for any placements in this college”.

“Come on it’s not that big a deal. You don’t know what you are saying”

“No IT IS a big deal. You don’t know what is happening. You should be last person to tell me this. Did you even bother to send your CV to the placement cell?”

She was after him since long to do that. She has asked, begged, shouted and everything in between at him to send his CV to the placement cell. But he always made some lame excuse to delay it further. Actually he didn’t want to send it. He would rather spend time writing a new song than writing his CV. Pragesh, Aditya and Varun weren’t sitting for placement either. He tried telling that too to her but she had screamed “That’s because they are rich spoilt brats and will live off their dad’s money. Not that they care about the band so much”.

But the MTV Campus Rock auditions were near. The jam sessions were going very good, everybody who had heard their sound said they really had a shot at it. One girl even compared him to Jim Morrison in their last gig in ‘Strawberry Fields’. He had dismissed it as sarcasm but he couldn’t sleep that night. It was now or never for them.

Annie’s hysterical shouting of his name had brought him back from his thoughts.

“Aby.. Aby.... Are you even listening to me? Did you send your CV to the placement cell?”

“Yes... I mean no.. I am mean yes I was.. But then I got stuck in my tenth standard percentage... I don’t remember it... I’ll calculate and put it today and send the CV to the P-Cell.”

“What? You haven’t sent it yet? From last two days you’ve been TPing and drinking with your friends. I haven’t seen you in the house. And you didn’t even find 15 minutes to complete your CV! Wow!”

“Hey.. I wasn’t doing TP or anything. We were jamming. Then I just went out with them for a drink. The band ought to hang out there. We need some cohesion if we are gonna tide over this. And the band needs to be on same page musically ...”

“The band, the band, the band. It’s that all in your life? Do you even care about me anymore?”

“Of course I do. But you have been after my life for this thing. And my band...” “Again you band... Your life... Do you even know what is going on in my life? Dad had called last night. He made it thoroughly clear that if I don’t get a good job after college they are going to marry me. They have even finalized a guy”

“What? You didn’t tell me... But why ... I mean they can’t...” He was too shell shocked and scatter brained to make any sense.

“That’s because you weren’t home to tell. I have been crying in my room alone since last night. That’s why I messed up my interview today.”

“Hey I didn’t know. I am sorry. Listen tell him about us. Tell him how much we love each other. Tell him that our band is about to take off. In a few years we might even start headlining concerts. And then...”

“And then what? Then what Aby? The guy he has picked out for me is earning a six figure salary. He is about to go abroad and wanted to marry me before that is finalized. And you are playing at gigs where no one is willing to give six rupees to listen to you. What should I tell my dad?”

“Hey that’s really uncalled for. Let me talk to your dad”

“Talk to him and say what? Tell him that your only accomplishment in life is that you play the best guitar in the college and you made his stupid daughter fall in love with you? You need a job, something more worthwhile than your stupid guitar”.

“Didn’t you love my guitar? Wasn’t this the guitar on which I played “Do I have to say the words” that made you shout out in front of everyone “I love you”? Wasn’t it this stupid guitar?”

“Yes. And you know what my dad is gonna say? He is gonna say that even if you sell this piece of junk guitar you won’t be able to get so much money that Rajeev Thomas makes in a day”

“Well your dad is an idiot then”

“Hey don’t say anything about my dad”

“And you don’t say anything about my guitar.” He said pushing her. She had tottered back and hit the guitar. In a fit of fury she kicked it and it made a loud sonorous sound as it crashed on the ground. The headstock twisted. That was it for him. He raised his hand in anger.

“Go on, hit me” she demanded with voiced drowned in sobs “That was all that was remaining to happen between us. But remember that I am dead for you now. You heard me. DEAD”

This was 8 years ago exactly this day. He couldn’t remember the time. It was over too soon as love, hope and promises came crashing down with that Guitar. A lifetime over in a moment.

“Akshay. Akshay.” She repeated twice to snap him out of his thoughts. “You still keep getting lost in your thoughts. So what else? Married? Any kids?”

“No. Not married. What about you?” “Ya. Married. Been seven years now. No kids. Sorry didn’t invite you for the wedding. It was so sudden and I didn’t have any contact info of you. You also didn’t even call once since... since...”

“I did once”, he said getting the meaning of ‘since’ “To tell you that I got through IIM Bangalore. But you sister picked up the phone, she told me you were getting married in a few days and also never to call again”

“Oh sorry. That was so rude of her. I didn’t know. But IIM B? Wow. That is so cool. You must be big shot now”

“Seven years and no children?” He quickly asked to change the subject, giving his signature quizzing lop sided smile. He didn’t want to talk about his getting into IIM B. About the toil; the blood, sweat and tears and mostly his reason of getting in.

“Yes. It’s a long story” She sighed

“I am not going anywhere soon” he said sitting down diagonally away from her and signalling her to do the same.

“Akshay my baby died in childbirth. The doctors told me they could only save one of us and they chose me. And also that I will never be able to deliver anymore. I was never going to be a mother again. And Rajeev never a father as long as he is married to me.” She spit out almost as if this was choking her.

“Oh I am so sorry. I didn’t know otherwise I would have never...” “Yes we all are.” She said with a tear forming in the corner of eyes.

“So you are in India for....?” He quickly again tried to change the topic.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and said”Today was my dead child’s birthday and death anniversary. I came to put flowers on his grave”

Akshay started trembling and blurted out “Then how come Rajeev, I mean your husband isn’t here?” “That’s because he doesn’t want to be reminded of it. That’s why we left India. He wants to be distanced away from everything that reminds him of his dead son, including me”

“Look I didn’t mean to... I am sorry... I really had no clue...” He was really at a loss of words once more in his life as he put his hand in his pocket to take out a handkerchief to wipe her flowing tears.

“How could you know? I am sorry. I don’t say all this to anyone. I don’t know why it all came out in front of you” she said regaining her composure and wiping the tears on her face.

“It’s ok.. I mean... I am sorry.. I.. Never Mind”

“So any girlfriends” She asked sitting up, she had really sunk in the chair. “And how many since me? Be honest”

“No. None since. I think this boring hair style and this cheap suit have managed to keep the women away” he said while running his hand through his hair.

She let out a chuckle. “Come on, you look better in these hair than the tresses you had back then. But seriously no girl from past so many years?” “The girl I loved died”

And there was a deafening silence between them for a moment, a moment far too long.
“Didn’t you know that Princess Diana died?” He said cracking up.

Annie hit him with his magazine. “You still have your sick sense of humour” permitting herself a laugh.

An airline girl spoke in her typical airline prep school accent announcing that plane was about to start boarding. They both got up.

“Phew... Finally. I think I was gonna stain the seat with my suit by sitting on it for so long” Akshay quipped.
“You really haven’t changed a bit since I saw you. And you have done really well for yourself” she said laughing as she got up to board.

“Yes probably”, he said. “I just don’t play the guitar anymore” and walked off to get his ticket changed to another flight.

It was almost morning; the sun had almost killed the moon.

Waning Moon (Part 1)

“Mrs. Annie Thomas”
“Mr Akshay Bhatia”

Akshay felt a tinge of nostalgia when he heard the name Annie with his. It had been quite some time since that; 8 years to be exact, and a few hours probably. He was never sure about the time, but he never forgot that day.

Back in college Akshay-Annie was always spoken in same breath, they were inseparable. They used to live together, they both had the same friends, they liked the same things, and even the clothes they had started to resemble each other.

He always wanted to write a song about them but he never got to it. Every time he took up his beloved guitar and started to write something he always got lost, he always wanted to use the words her and the moon in the song. Some people saw a rabbit in the moon, some people saw old woman, he saw her. Though never at loss of words in his real life, he always fell short of expressions when he thought about her love. There was no way he could describe that in his songs.

Annie always used to comment whenever she saw him lost like that with his guitar “I think you love that guitar more than me”.

He always used to reply”Oh yes”. And they both used to giggle like children.

“Strange, isn’t it?” he thought, he now found that giggling in young couples so childish. Sitting in a pinstripe suit with glasses and a leather bag he looked so far removed from it. Like it was some other life.

He looked around to find anything to read in the waiting lounge of Mumbai Airport. This was the best time to catch up on some business articles. At 4 am in the cold November morning there was nobody to call him, no intruding messages on the blackberry, nobody to meet but himself.

He found himself more at peace in this airport lounge than in the fancy holiday resorts where they used to hold the conventions. Those were an exercise in futility for him; there was no point of these conventions but to network. People used to get drunk on free booze and the fact that they were away from their wives always used to egg them on to ‘just one more drink’. The fact that he wasn’t married, wasn’t going to and wasn’t interested in meeting people in his trade made it more like a punishment for him. He did not even go for his IIM-Bangalore alumni meets in Bombay, his sitting in one corner, alone with his ‘scotch on the rocks’ made him look like an alcoholic. “I am drinker with a singing problem” he used to quip whenever somebody commented on his heavy drinking in college days. The alcohol lubricated the jammed windows in his mind and he could go to places in his head he otherwise couldn’t have. He wondered why he was remembering his graduation days again today. He had successfully blocked them out for the past 8 years. Maybe it was that name.

The airline had paged for the business class for the morning flight to Melbourne. And then left him waiting, the flight wasn’t for another one hour. He had come a bit too early, but then he didn’t want to be late. He was always before time in all his appointments now. He had paid a very heavy price for being late in one thing in his life. Plus he liked the dawn, a dark night coming to end and the bright new sun rising out of the ashes. The imagery somehow appealed to the poet inside him that he had tried to strangle.

They had really very well done the new Airport. It was clean, arranged, and very well managed. At par with any other airport, he thought. But now he missed the ‘Indianess’ of it all. The chaos, the rush, people buzzing, India the way he remembered. It was raining and really chilly outside, but the business class lounge was comfortable, warm and dreary. He was looking around for the magazine rack when the something shiny caught his eye. It was the letter ‘A’ hanging from a silver bracelet along with a crescent and a heart. He had seen a similar bracelet once.

It was the time they had gone to Pondhicherry. Annie had really liked it when she had seen it. She didn’t say anything but her eyes did. He always read her eyes and that made him know her; and that made him love her. She wasn’t only all that what she always showed in front of other people, she was more; and she was less.


He asked for the price, “a thousand rupees” was the reply. He made a quick calculation in his head. His new ‘Sustain Pedal’ will have to wait another month, but he had to buy this for her. She had walked a bit ahead of the shop. He bought the bracelet and casually walked ahead of her, suddenly dangling the bracelet in front of her eyes.

“You bought this!” she exclaimed hugging him. "Idiot! This was so expensive.. And I really didn’t want it, I was just checking it out.."

“Ya ya I know” he said putting his finger on her lips to silence her.

“Thank you! I am going to this FOREVER” she said hugging him again.


“Forever” he gave a mocking smile to himself, “What an inept word” and started walking towards the magazine rack. He picked this month’s Forbes and started walking back when he heard a familiar voice call “Akshay”. He turned and his stomach plummeted as he saw the face he used to see in the moon. There she was, dressed in a white kurta and jeans, big dark glasses hiding her pretty eyes but still looking beautiful as ever. The danglers were the same, the ‘A’, the heart and the moon, but the bracelet was different, much more expensive. She had really traded up. But there was something about her eyes.

“Wow, what a surprise. Here of all the places!”

“Hi” he said, trying to muster a casual smile

“Hi, how are you? God, it’s been ages since I last you” she said getting up from the couch.
Akshay wished to recount the exact time. 8 years ..... but better sense prevailed over him. “I’m good” he said “And you? “

“Oh great as ever. I really couldn’t recognize you in the suit and the short hair. What’s up, what are you doing these days?” she chirped, as she lunged forward to hug him.

“Nothing much, I am working in a company called E&Y as a consultant. Was going to Melbourne, we have an office there” he said clearing his throat, as he gently shook her hand taking a step back.

“Oh yes yes I know of the name. There are a big client of my husband’s. My husband works for Mindtree they provide software for your company” she added seeing the puzzled look on his face.

“Oh” and added “Good” almost as an afterthought. He added two plus two in his head. Mindtree had a major office in Singapore and his flight had a stopover at Singapore. Maybe they were going in the same flight.

“So you going to Singapore?" He asked.

“Yes me and my husband live there, since the last 4 years” There was again that tinge of sadness in her eyes.

He remembered the last time he had seen this emptiness in her eyes. And his mind wandered back to that time, 8 years and a few hours ago.....

(to be continued...)

P.S. - I split the post in two because I thought people like me would be too lazy to read such a long post.

Coming Soon - Waning Moon (Part 2)

Hungover Poetry - 2

Get off from your past love’s cobwebs, Shake up,
You’ve had better nightmares, wake up.
No it doesn’t always happen to you, don’t whine.
You've got your troubles, I got mine.

Your love has been shut out and spit out and ripped apart,
Remember that nobody ever died of a broken heart .
My train kept a rollin’ with bitter words and a glass of wine,
You've got your troubles, I got mine.

There is nothing to do but pick up the pieces,
First love’ first pain never ceases.
I lost a diamond and you weep for Rhine,
You've got your troubles, I got mine.

I too had lost my love today,
All of my dreams have flown away.
And so forgive me if I seem unkind,
You've got your troubles, I got mine.

Maybe we will meet in another place at another time
But till then you've got your troubles, I got mine.

Rape

I was looking for something else as the title of this post; this was a little too blunt for my taste. But I realized that this thing has already been swept under the carpet too much, about time we started talking about it in a matter-of fact way.

In India there are 270 rapes every day, only 20% of these cases are reported, and in only 20 % of these cases the accused is convicted.

1 out of every 6 woman in India has been a victim of some form of sexual crime or molestation. So if you know 60 women most likely 10 of them will be either raped (attempted or otherwise) or at least some other type of sexual crime committed towards them. And if I start including indecent suggestions (not counting the normal eve-teasing that virtually every girl undergoes), groping, boyfriends forcing themselves over their girlfriends, date rapes or at least something more than a request for a sex on a date then I think everybody must know someone that has undergone this ordeal.

In case you are thinking that you only know of a certain social strata that are above this, then think again. I think are rapists are the most liberal of all people, they don’t discriminate among class, age, colour, urban/rural or even looks for that matter. Though of course the most risky group is 18-30 but women from 6 months to 60 years have been raped and are being raped.
And don’t think that women above a certain class are immune. I can off hand tell about Hollywood celebrities like Tori Amos, Kelly McGillis (female lead in Top Gun) who have been brutally raped. But I think what they are most vulnerable are other forms of sexual crimes such as date rapes, boyfriend forcing themselves over them, molestation or attempted molestation when drunk/doped, physical assault for refusing sex. Though most reasons for them not reporting it to anyone is the common with all women across social strata but two other reason also come into play with them, first the boys they hang out or go out have powerful dads themselves who will save their hide, secondly they are worried about their family’s name which commands some respect, add to this social taboo about women drinking/doping, going out alone with guys, or any other type of non-socially acceptable behaviour and it makes reporting for them virtually impossible. They are even afraid to tell it to their parents.

So as I said you must know someone who underwent this and someone who committed this. I sure as hell do.

In my long 4 years in Bangalore I have seen a lot of ugly things. And I mean it when I say it, really ugly. I have seen glimpse of the dark underbelly of the city, and when you see it once, you can never Unsee it. But the things that made me the most sick in the stomach are things done to girls.

A girl I knew was brutally beaten on the eve of her birthday when she refused the demand for sex by one of my senior. And I am not talking one or two slaps or manhandling, she was beaten so mercilessly that her face bled from 4 different places. And Why? Because she had a reputation that she sleeps around. Yes she was drunk, she does drink a lot. Yes she came in the house of her friends to ask for grass. But no, she was not looking to get raped, or beaten or even have sex with anyone, and you know what was the response of my senior? “Saali sabko deti hai Sir, bus humi se bakchodi kar rahee thee”. And what was the response of his friends when they came in and saw this, they shouted at the guy, sent him home and took the girl back to her hostel.

One girl who came to my friend’s house after meeting him in a disc. The girl was from North-East or as we say she was a Chinky, and the common perception is that chinkys are easy. When she refused to go further than kissing she was beaten, stripped and was ejaculated on her face by the guy. The guy’s statement to her was “Behan kee lodi jab chudana nahi tha to mere saath aayi kyun?” His junior who tried to intervene was beaten by the guy. When others came in and saw what happened they sent the girl home. And the junior who tried to intervene was told “Abey tu Sunny Deol hai jo har ladki ko bachaaega? Agli baar kisi senior ke kaam mae taang mat adana!”

This same guy used to beat his girlfriend, when I saw this the first time I ran to my brother and said that this guy was hitting his girlfriend, he replied “Tu chor na, inka to roz ka kaam hai”. And when I was talking to his girlfriend she once said”Haan A****** ka gussa bada kharaab hai, par wo mujhse bahut pyaar karta hai”. I felt sick in the stomach.

And yes that guy I talked about before this; he used to hit his girlfriend too. And she used to hit him back. How much she felt that was fair I will never know. Once they started slapping each other in full public view outside a famous discotheque in Bangalore. When other people tried to intervene her friend said “They are going around, please mind your own business”. And yes they are about to marry each other in a few months. Why some girls accept this is a matter of a whole another post.

And this one girl I knew was taken to taken to a secluded area in the campus and was asked to give a blowjob by her ‘friend’. Though she ran away but she didn’t bother to complain about him or at least confront him. Her exact words were "He had too much weed to smoke last night, he did not know what he was doing, otherwise he is a very sweet guy”.

I have even worse stories than this; like about a girl who was stripped, groped and kissed forcibly and then turned out of the house. When the cops saw her on the road like that with clothes torn, and missing footwear what they did was to take the girl back to the house of the guy who did this to her, verbally reprimanded him and asked him to drop the girl back to her hostel in the morning.

Or about this girl who I chatted with on a internet chat board where we used to Discuss about Goth/Emo subculture and Music. She after sometime revealed that she was gang raped by 3 guys who she used to ‘hang out’ with. And she was convinced that it was her fault, that she provoked them by dressing like that. She no longer dressed in a Goth/Emo fashion and had cut her hair short. She no longer wanted to start a gothic rock band and had stopped writing songs. But this was not what made me sick. It was her conviction that she had provoked those three guys, which I assume other people had convinced her about. They would have said “Well, if you dress like a punk, wear heavy eye liner, wear revealing clothes and drink then you deserve to get raped. You had it coming.”

I am sure there are more unnerving stories out there but why I mentioned them was because in most cases the perpetrator was no criminal who jumped on them from the shadows but someone they knew and trusted at some level. And in nearly all cases everyone was convinced that the girl had it coming or she provoked it at least. And in one case she believed it herself.

A few months I was having a conversation with my friend and he said "Boss if a girl was wearing revealing clothes and going on a street then something will happen to her, it’s her fault." When I objected he said “Saale koi sexy ladki sadak pe chote kapde pehan ke ja rahi hogi to use tu dekhega nahi?” Yes I will, I might even ogle at her but that doesn’t mean I am instigated to rape her. Ask any girl and she will tell you that clothes, looks etc doesn’t matter. Eve teasers don’t discriminate. In fact I have the view that if you are walking confidently with a spaghetti top and a short skirt clothes and have a determined look then you are safer than walking in a full sleeved Salwar Kurta if you look timid, lost and afraid. Eve teasers are bullies. And the basic fact of bullying applies; if you look afraid then you will be bullied even more.

But all things withstanding rape/ molestation/eve teasing is a crime. And like all crimes you can take some precautions to be safer. There is no surety; people were raped when they were sleeping in their homes with their family in very safe neighbourhoods. But at least you can try.

And No, I am not saying that girls shouldn’t drink, never go out with boys, always wear a burka, should be martial arts expert or anything like what most people preach. And mind you, this mindset is not only of guys but girls as well.

But still as I said to someone if I am walking alone on a deserted road at 3 o clock in the night, drunk and wearing a flashy watch then I will get mugged sooner or later. And If I have to be stupid if I said why did it happen to me? Yes I did not ask to get mugged, it’s not fair to me. But then it’s not a fair world.

Firstly don’t get drunk/stoned out of your head in a place where there is no one to take care of you. And when I say that I mean your girl friends, a huge group of close friends, your boy friend whom you have been going out with for some time etc.

Leave when the crowd in getting rowdy or people are getting very drunk. It’s not a good idea to drink alone in a guys’ house even if you know them or no matter how harmless you think they will be. People change when they are high.

Be wary of how will you travel? Don’t be on a mercy of someone to drop you or under the impression that you will get some conveyance.

Walk confidently on the road, don’t look lost even if you are, don’t keep your eyes down and walk
like a frightened kitten. Girls walk out of clubs and discs wearing far more revealing clothing and nobody dares to touch them because they are confident and people get aware of the consequences.

And lastly yes. Reputation matters. I hate to say it. But if you are seen as loose or easy then you are more vulnerable to advances and sometime those can turn ugly. It is big trade off between free spiritedness and safety, but it is a bitter truth.

But whatever may happen always remember that the girl did not deserve it. And there is no excuse for it. I have been out of my mind drunk on many occasions but that doesn’t mean I am not responsible for whatever I say or do when I am drunk.

Though I console myself as that only thing I am guilty is shouting at a girl only once or twice that too when I am drunk and apologizing the next day but still I am again part of the crowd that saw or heard what was happening and still did nothing. I am no social worker, women’s rights activist or a messiah. But I still hope that maybe somebody will be a bit better off after reading this. But as they said in Schindler’s List “Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire”.

P.S. – By the time you finish reading this approx two women will be sexually assaulted somewhere in India. One of them will know the attacker but most probably neither of the attackers will face prison.

P.P.S – If you bothered to read through 2000 odd words please also bother to leave a comment. I would appreciate it.

To read about the Heart Wrenching story of Kelly McGillis go to this address. The most sickening part is the not the rape but the aftermath of it.

Idiot's guide to live among GUYS

Before I dispense my advice let me put a few premises and underpinnings. Being an engineer I like a methodical approach.

First let me begin by explaining what are men’s men. They are the leader of the pack, the alpha male, who are hated by women and admired by men. What one of my friend calls boys boys. That is what every man wants to be, well, at least in the company of other men. They are generally the macho men, the school bully, the sports jock. These rules are for happily staying amidst them. There are hereby referred to as “the guys” or “buddies”.

Second I will give my credentials. My parents somehow always took houses where there were no girls in the neighbourhood (at least in a 2 km radius), they also made sure that none of their friends or colleagues had daughters. To top it all I did my entire schooling in a boy’s school. And if that wasn’t enough I took admission into Mechanical branch in engineering which boasted of a ratio of 7 girls to 193 guys. And my dream run didn’t end there, now I am doing MBA from a college which has 14 girls out of a total of 120 odd people. So I have been around guys my whole life and I have charted successfully these turbulent waters. And this makes me authority on this subject.

So here it goes –

• Always underplay your friendship with other girls. Always act like only guys can be true friends, girls are just girlfriend material.
• If you are serious about your girlfriend let it be known subtly in the beginning only. And then never ever refer to her again.
• Don’t tell your problems. Guys already there girlfriends for that. Unless of course if you need to get your car fixed, or thinking of buying a new stereo system. Those are great conversation starters.
• Always overstate your booze capacity and chicks you have scored with. And always understate the time you devote to studying.
• Whenever in an argument speak more loudly than the other guy, resorting to logic is futile.
• Don’t say anything negative about a guy’s first car or basically anything he bought from his first salary, they are close to the guy’s heart.
• Don’t insult or ridicule anybody’s favourite sports team, especially not after they have suffered a humiliating defeat and/or the guy is drunk. In case you still wish to, keep a crash helmet and the ambulance handy.
• Don’t order Virgin Mary or Pomegranate Julep when you are out with guys. Trust me you won’t be able to live with the ridicule. When you don’t feel like drinking, stick to coke.
• When out with the guys, never accept a call from your girlfriend—unless she's dying or trapped under a burning fuel truck, and if that's the case, make it quick.
• Always behave like your date with your girlfriend is a torture you have to put up with.
• Never admit openly that you liked a chick flick. Admitting that you cried when Leonardo Dicaprio died in Titanic is Hara-Kiri. Claim that Rambo/ Terminator is your favourite movie even when it’s actually ‘When Harry met Sally’.
• Always buy more beer than you think is humanly possible to drink. Firstly Beer is never ‘enough’. Secondly then you are challenging the guys’ capacity.
• Always support your buddy when he is telling a story, even in the part where he saved Pamela Anderson from attacking aliens. Remember someday you’ll need it too.
• Mess up your room when you are having the guys over. Remember if they need to sit they will remove your dirty socks from the chair. And don’t forget to hide the fluffy cushion your girlfriend gifted you.
• Keep announcing that the guy who pissed you off in the college/office is gonna get his face smashed someday. Even if you have never even killed a fly.
• Farts are still laughing matter.
• Don’t let anybody overtake even if you are driving at 30 on an empty road. Remember Road is the place where you need to show your machismo.
• Remember that ex-girlfriends of your buddies are still a no-go zone. Or any girl they told you they like very much, even if they have never even talked to her.
• Always divide your female acquaintances as either ‘girls you like to sleep with’ or Sisters. There is no third kind.
• Don’t use words like ‘quality time’, ‘relationship trouble’, ‘courting’, bonding’ ‘soulmate’ etc. Not only will the guys not understand it but you may get branded as a freak.
• You should not know more colours then black, white, brown, blue, red, orange, yellow and green. Fuchsia is a place in China.
• Don’t ever get a guy a birthday card, unless there are pink panties or a pack of tampons with it to complete the joke.
• When extremely hard pressed to buy a gift for a guy, gift him a bottle of scotch.
• You should always know your buddies preferred brand in alcohol or cigarettes. Not knowing is a great sacrilege which can only be forgiven by buying him that in a Pub 5 times in a row.
• It is only ok to sing if you are drunk, otherwise no matter how good you are, you’ll still be laughed at.
• Never admire another man’s body. It was only ok till you were 10 and admired Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone.
• Don’t use the word ‘cute’. Let me rephrase, never ever use the word cute. Only in the case you are describing someone’s new born baby or dog. In that case too don’t use it more than once.
• You should not have a pet except maybe a dog. A fish is acceptable too but you should give him a Macho name like Butch or Spike. A pet snake would be great if you can manage not getting bitten.
• No PDA (Public Display of Affection). Even you can do it in front of other guys they can’t stand it.
• Keep your pet names between you and your girl friend only. If they guys get to know that your girlfriend calls you ‘Sweetu’, ‘Chiku’ or ‘Cutie Pie’ you’ll be the laughing stock every time more than 1 of them sits with you.
• Never say no for booze to your buddy when he had a really f**ked up day. He might never forgive you if you do.
• Never send love or inspirational messages to the guys. Only dirty jokes and MMS are acceptable (assuming the MMS is not having the guy and his girlfriend in it).
• You don’t ask for directions.
• You don’t tell on your buddy. Even if he’s cheating you don’t tell his girl friend. And you shouldn’t tell the other girl he has a girl friend. Consider this as honour among thieves.
• And I cannot stress this enough. Bros before hoes. Always remember, girlfriends come and go, but your boys are always there.

P.S. – Inspired by the ‘Bro Code’.

Beginning of The End

“Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans” – John Lennon

It is the beginning of the end. I say this not only with a tinge of despair in my voice but also with lots of fears unknown. And when you have the end in your mind you gain a wholly different perspective, it’s like the ship which is about to conclude its journey, suddenly lot of things begin appearing on the horizon. Some things are a surprise but I think most things were to be expected if not welcomed.

Such is the journey now, an eventful 21 months are about to draw to a close and I’m having trouble to comprehend where the time flew. Though some may think that this ranting and raving is a little premature given that there are still 5 months to go before the end, but as I said I now see the end. It’s like a long chain of events although seemingly causal and predictable in nature but truly random and happenstance in real, which have brought me to this point. The cocoon is about to burst and the moth is full of dread!

No matter how much stories do the rounds of the gruelling schedule of B-Schools and the pressure and rigor during the course I still the think the outside is much more mean than this college ever was. This is not to negate the fact that B-School life is tough and you do learn a few lessons, and the hard way. Approximately four month down the course after a strenuous and humiliating marketing class I said to my friend that I think I have had enough of this MBA and now I just wanna take a job and get out, something he had been saying from day 1. And now that time is upon me and I’m like a fish out of water now.

When I came in this place like everyone else I was a little worried, little hesitant, little too keen to blend in and little unsure that will I blend in. But like everyone else I carried blind optimism, confidence and a fire in the belly. But maybe not like everyone else I also carried inside me a silent promise that I will not let this time be like my engineering. So I studied hard, did my work, attended my classes and sat up straight like everyone else. But I did something which I had never done before, whenever I did it I felt like someone who’s trying to get to know a stranger. That wasn’t me, I was this whisky drinking, party loving, bike driving, junk wearing long haired dude who was thrust in with someone who wore suits, kept his hair short, studied in the evening and tried to ask intelligent questions in class. Lame or plain as it may sound I was the fire in me, for me. I thought I was changed and the new ‘Me’ has finally arrived, But alas! I guess bad habits have this uncanny knack of sticking to me, they are like this big huge sphere like earth which attract me towards it and that is my final resting place.

Drunkard, free rider, lousy, carefree or anything else what people call or at least jest fully call me now I am not actually good for nothing. I was the guy who cleared NTSE, 11th ranker in Bansal entrance exams, cleared IIT screening twice, IIT JEE once, and a respectable 98 percentile in CAT. I am also someone who knows how to play a guitar, somewhat a Harmonium and the Drums, how to skate, the plays and sonnets of Shakespeare, the entire discography of Aerosmith and Metallica, the history of rock, contemporary House music, a Physics whiz kid, an amateur DJ, an amateur Bartender and someone knows an engine like the back of his hand. But I am also someone who flunked 4 subjects in engineering, scored 44 out of 100 in 12th boards maths, missed exams because I felt like drinking and slept through my own farewell.

I think the following misquote from Gregory David Roberts sums up it most appropriately –

“I was a revolutionary who lost his ideals in alcohol, a philosopher who lost his beliefs in self pity, and a poet who lost his soul in the rat race.”

All my above ranting only alludes to the one fact that every time I look towards my life in the hind sight I see a different something each time. But when I see towards this End, there is singularity. It’s like the event horizon; nothing that has happened before it matter when you reach there, and nothing that is there can reach you, indefinitely.

And I can’t help feeling that everything now is temporary, everything that you did or are doing are just leading up to that point. Nothing is going to go beyond it. So there is going to be lot of turbulence and lots of things that were will remain no longer, the best allegory is a battle, everyone will not survive but you still have to do it. I now have sleepless nights, feelings of despair and sense of urgency for something I can’t really place my finger on.
The rat race in on! And my most dreaded words like CV, certificate, short list, and package are back in the air. It’s the final lap of the race and winners are about to be decided. I got to run too and that worries me, the more I worry the lesser work I do and the lesser I do something about it the more I am worried about it. It is the worst of vicious circles. I’m in a strange state of mind, think weird things and act oddly and nobody near me understands why. Soon there will be a mad rush for jobs, for money, for big companies and fancy titles, long time friends will fight in GDs and every coveted job will come with a barrage of abuses. Everyone’s worth will be decided by his final placement.

Once more time to pack up my life and move. This life and this world that I helped shape, the world that I’m a part of is going to end, and a different world is going to rise. I just need to decide what to take with me and what not. The end is upon us. And it is the beginning of the end.

P.S.- When I re read this post today I realized how weird it sounds. But hey, it's a momentary lpase of reason!

Hungover Poetry

These words are a fleeting contact between two souls.
May be you are lost too like me.
But for a moment we were lost together.


If eyes were windows to the soul,
Your lips had to be the doorway.
For when we kissed I didn’t touch your lips,
But your soul.
For a moment our souls entwined,
And that moment lingered for an eternity in my heart.

Kisses are never taken but stolen. Kiss from a pretty girl is like the dew on a rose petal that leaves heavenwards with the first ray of the sun. I'm sure God would never allow for such a pleasure for mortals. A kiss has to be stolen. With each kiss we steal from this world a little of the elixir of ecstacy that made Adam & Eve forgo Eden. Promotheus stole the fire from the gods and shared it with mortals but Adam & Eve stole the kiss from the Gods and only let us have it.

Idiot’s guide to understanding B-Schoolers

Disclaimer – Though I am going to write derogatory things about them mostly but don’t think I have something against them; some of my best friends are B-Schoolers. And please take it as joke and not canon.

Stereotyping is fool’s way to understand the world better.

As a B-Schooler for more than a year now and having the pleasure of seeing two B–Schools and having close friends in ten different B-Schools at this time I saw patterns emerging in students everywhere (real or imagined). So being a true blue B-Schooler myself I thought of stereotyping them or as they say in Management Jargon, segmenting them. I will begin now –

The Bongs & Maadus – These are mostly fresh B.Com graduates who have a flair for accounting and finance and quantifying everything as profit and loss. They understand the world in black & red, profit and loss, risk and return etc. They excel in all finance and accounting related subjects and talk passionately about the Stock Market, Mutual funds, M&As, Valuations and secretly or not so secretly nurse the ambition of becoming Investment Bankers. Most had good marks in graduation and not so good marks in school, are out of their home for the first time and are from business families. They are in a habit of bargaining and haggling over prices, half an hour spent in getting 5 Rs discount is pretty fruitful to them. While the Bongs love their smoke, drink, fish and porn the Maadus are teetotalers and have a poorly concealed porn obsession. Understandably they take finance as a specialization and consider all other subjects as ‘Global Gyaan’. They push the grades up in finance subjects and lower in other subjects. Most will either take plum finance jobs or return to their family business.

The IT Engineers – Bored and benched for the most part of their career they look towards MBA as a welcome break from the moribund life they were having. Without any real reason of doing MBA they often come with high hopes and are soon disillusioned when they find that there ‘third eye’ didn’t open. Soon they get in a habit of either criticizing the students or the professors or the entire system itself. Torn between the expectation of professors who look at their work-ex as knowledge mine and the reality that the most part of their work-ex was spent in either training, googling, looking for either on-site opportunities or applying for other jobs. Or perhaps sitting on the bench, drinking coffee or playing pool. They have good understanding of IT and IT systems but seldom show it due to their perpetual boredom. They are somewhere around the median both in the grades and salary.

The Lafanders or Lukhas – These are Junta from either from Delhi or Punjab/Haryana who are boisterous, loud and pretty vocal about their opinions and have no regards for other’s. Half of them have d in some DPS and swear by DU. To them Delhi/NCR is the whole world and never think beyond it. Considered arrogant, conceited and ‘not worthy of being in a B-School’ by the intellectuals and the pseudo-intellectuals in the class they upset them in GDs and Interviews with sheer confidence, verbiage and the ability to bluff and bluff convincingly. They love booze, women and a good party and girls surprisingly love them in return! They either stack up at the top of the pyramid or the bottom of it and mostly take off-campus jobs through their (dad’s) contacts.

The Uncles – People having more than 4 year’s work-ex. They find it tough to come to terms with getting back to college after so long and crib about relative grading, the immaturity of their classmates and policy of companies not to shortlist people having more than a certain months work-ex. Extremely hard-working but sometimes bit slow they either garner instantaneous respect or mocking. Most have a habit of explaining things like a teacher and preach a lot. Most of them exercise caution with booze but don’t be fooled, most of them were ‘Party Animals’ once.

The Marketing Mavens – The would be (atleast in their dreams) brand managers of 'Nike' or 'Piyush Pandeys' have a habit of going through STP (Segmenting, Targeting, Positioning) for everything. They swear by 'Kotler' and have by-hearted all of marketing jargon. They use terms like POD, value added, innovation, brand positioning, skimming in every other statement and come up with INCREDIBLE plans like rural marketing of Italian hand bags, giving more money to marketing for a better brand positioning of a bankrupt company and online advertising of a literacy campaign. They believe the root to all problems lie in a company not innovating timely and not strategizing enough. Loved by some professors for ‘thinking out of the box’ and hated by others for their total disconnect from reality they baffle some of their classmates (mostly the IT Engineers) and win the admiration of others (Maadus and Page 3s). They take the plum marketing jobs and shine through the presentations, reports preparations, GDs and most interviews.

The Humanists – HR is in their blood and they believe that people are the key to any company’s success or failure. Loved by the HR Professors and laughed at by their non HR inclined classmates they have carved out a niche for themselves. This group is mostly populated by Girls or Pansy errr…. ‘Sensitive' guys and they bond very well among themselves and frequent go out on trips, coffees and other group activities. They hate the numerical and financial subjects are single mindedly focused on HR subjects and have ambitions for working for NGOs. They are perceived by many as having the most comfortable life both in college and after it. They sail through the interviews and often take placements in big brand names and have fancy titles.

The Mavericks – Well nothing much to say about them. Nobody knows and understands why they ever came to a B-School; lacking in academics, the so called ‘Leadership Skills’, the desire to work hard and a worthwhile CV. People only sometimes see sparks of brilliance and stellar job which is soon forgotten. They have come here for personal reasons and have no desire for fat pay packages, big brand names or fancy titles. In this group lie the future entrepreneurs, though totally ignored by all now some of them turn into ‘Star Alumni’. They are like wild card entry in this game who occasionally upset the favorites.

The Womenfolk – The most difficult to decipher group among these all. They are above and beyond these simplistic attempts to classify B-Schoolers. Women are way above the mere mortals of a B-School and with women to men ratio ranging from 1-10 to 1-4 at the best, the obsession with women is, but natural. But here I am compelled to make one further classification among girls. Not committing the sacrilege of naming them I’ll just call them the Type A and the Type B. While the Type A is studious, sincere and always finishes at the top of the class the Type B is opposite who never have to worry about making presentations, working on reports and projects and still people step over each other to take them into their groups. While Type A has people rushing to them in exams to get tutored the Type B just have to smile at somebody to get everything home or atleast desk delivered. The Type A is here to make an identity in a man’s world and wish one day to break through the glass ceiling the Type B was born with everything, they are the Page 3s of college, everything from what they are wearing and hair style to their nail color is news in campus.

P.S- If you like this blog, post '1' in the comment section. If you want to give a suggestion, post '2' followed by your suggestion. If you don't agree with the views in this post and think the author is a moron, put your fingers in an electrical socket and switch it 'on' !

P.P.S - Original Idea taken from 'Joker in the Pack'

Idiot’s Guide to understanding Online Behaviour

Before I begin let me make two things clear.

First there are people and then there are their online avatars. People behave quite differently when they are in the cyber world.

Second I have nothing against any of these, some of my best friends are amongst them.

The Chatanovas/Chaterellas – These people are the Casanovas / Cinderellas of the cyber world. They won’t even say ‘hi’ to you when you see them in person but they are ‘all words’ when online. They will ping you and start chatting which can only end when you excuse yourself. Normally at a loss of words face-to-face, they are quite witty and even flirting when chatting online.

The Cassandras – They are your friendly neighbour doomsday announcers. They feel it’s their responsibility to educate you of the health risk of mobile phones, beware you of AIDS needle stabbing people, the incredible way to alert police by entering your PIN in reverse etc. They are also the ones to stuff inspiring quotes like “Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm” down your throats. Whoa! Just lay off.

The Obscurist – These people are the ones who write status updates/message like – “I am very....”, “Today was very bad but thank god I....”, “Abhishek is very happy because....” or even worse like – “Da da da ....”, “Aaargh”, “My mind is MR”, “DD didn’t know she....". Please, you may think that you appear very enigmatic and deep by this but in reality you appear to be a moron who doesn’t know his right hand from your left. Either write what you meant to say or shut up. Nobody is interested.

The fad riders – They will write whatever is ‘IN’ right now. Like “Rest in peace King of pop”, “Well played Federer”, “Amazing race Raikkonen”. Even if they never heard MJ's songs or probably thought him as a child abusing psycho they think his death should be put into a status update. Please they are enough news sites on the web. If I wanna know I will read that and not your idiotic updates.

The attention seekers – They are full of sad stories about themselves. Mostly girls are the culprits in this case with status messages like – “I am very sad today :-(” “I am missing you very much :-(” “Bad day in office, I wanna go home” “Having a terrible head ache. It hurts”, “Waan” or the killer, just a “:-( “. Well I would have sympathised with you if you hadn’t splashed your plight all over the cyberspace. Now you are just looking for attention.

The Perennially busy-bees – These people always have a red dot next to their name and are always busy. Status messages include the plain and simple “busy” or the more exotic variations like “Busy busy busy”, “Do not disturb... Very very busy”, “Working, do not disturb under any circumstances”. Well, if you are SO busy then why the hell don’t you sign out ? It does not show that you have a life, just issues.

The cry-it-louds – These are active on social networking sites like Orkut and Facebook and feel it’s completely ok to tell the world things like – “Rohit was late again, he doesn’t love me” , “My sweety pie is here and I am going to kiss him”, “I miss my Jaanu”, “I love her so much but why she doesn’t love me”. Probably she doesn’t because of your ranting like these and total lack of sense that these things are private and meant to stay that way.

The serial-Frandshippers – Just because you sat near them in the bus means that you two are friends for life to them. These are the people who have above 500 “friends” and continuously troll the sites looking for anybody they recognize. Mostly IT engineers with no work and a free internet. They are also the ones who send out friend requests to random girls with pick-up lines – “Hey nice Pic. Can be we freinds?” or “Hi Aarti looking cute... Wanna have fraandships with me?” Uggghh... Creepy!

The blow-by-blowers – They tell it like it is. Courtesy mobile phones – “I am in a queue to see The Dark Knight. I am still in a queue. I am bored of being in a queue. I am wondering whether to give up being in a queue and go home. I have decided to go home. I am on the bus wondering if I should have stayed in the queue.” I wish you were under the bus rather than in it. B**w me !

The spreaders-of-love – These people feel it’s perfectly alright to spit out hate messages like – “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”, "Anurag isn't really that impressed with idiots who don't realize how idiotic they are.", " Fucking assholes need to mind their fucking business”. Don’t curse the world here, seek psychiatric help.

The Careless Commentators – Ever found out that your last night –drunk- Salman Khan
imitating -shirtless photo has been uploaded on the SNS (Social Networking Site), and you face tagged, complete with a comment like – “LOL, he was so drunk”? They are to be blamed for this. They are also to be blamed (more appropriately drawn and quartered) for comments like – “Oh who is this hot chick with you in this pic?” or “Oh my god look at Shruti’s legs in this pic, they are yumm” Dude! If you can read this so can she! And public forum anyone?

The Bore-me-to-deaths – There is no dull moment for these people. Facts like “I am very sleepy”, “Today I ate 3 Muuli paranthas for lunch”, “in the evening planning to go to India Gate” seem like a must-know for everyone to them. They are probably trying to tell the world that they are still alive.

The lyricist – No explanation required. Probably the most harmless of the lot. They are the ones who keep their about me, status messages /status updates in the form of song’s lyrics. Retards!

English killers – ‘Awesome. Super fucking cool. Amazing. Incredible. Sexy’. All of their sentences begin and end with these words only and they use LOL as a punctuation mark. English language has its shortcomings, please respect them.

Quiz takers – And my favourite. The useless quiz takers on Facebook. They want to know when will they die, what is the first letter of the name of their love, what kind of lover they are, what their birthday says about them, how much naughty are they and what is their love percentage. And they take Facebook as a perfectly credible source. In the end they also feel that world should know about this and publish it. I can only think of one solution. Death by firing squad !

Sane – And lastly the rare and dying breed, the normal people.

P.S. – The author although thinks he is part of the last group but there is plenty of evidence linking him with all of the above.

P.P.S - Stereotyping is a fool's way to understand the world better

P.P.P.S - By talking to people and looking in Retrospect I realized that I have left out one important case. The case of a Girl putting lyrics from a song or putting up a arbit quote from the web and the Guys going ga-ga over it. They 'like' it, and start pouring in comments like - "Oh how beautiful quote", "Hey nice quote", "Oh this is no nice. this really suits you", "Wow this is so touching" and then there'll be one guy who will think of this as an opportunity to start a conversation and put in "Hi Swati how are you". Guys ! Stop being so desperate.

COMING SOON - THE IDIOTS GUIDE TO UNDERSTANDING B-SCHOOLERS

Litchi’s Goldfish

As she laid still on the ground,
No longer flapping, her eyes big and round.
The realization hit him that she was forever gone
Cold and dead and no way for her to again spawn.

No he never meant it,
But his deeds were his own.
And now he stood with his eyes filled with tears,
Mouth agape and shaking with unknown fears.

So why did he do it?
For he wanted to punish her and this was his act in a fit.
“She doesn’t play with me anymore!”
Crying he retorted looking at the goldfish on the floor

“She has found a new friend and he’s keeping her busy”
In sobs came the words, the tear’s torrent making him dizzy
“Once I told her to play with me she said no! Her and her friend had somewhere to go.”

Because she had never done this, it made him irate
Confused and hurt, alone he sat unknowingly building up his hate.
Why was she doing it, because he spoiled her new dress?
Or was it because he was stupid to stick gum in her tress?

He didn’t know the answer, perhaps neither did she
But it was happening and any longer he couldn’t let it be.
He used to ask “Are you angry with me Litchi?”
Pat came the reply “Don’t be stupid, things are still as Peachy”

But they weren’t and he knew it, disconcerted he felt.
And the straw that broke the camel’s back came full pelt.
The uneventful evening took light away from noon.
A sleeping monster snapped his eyes open announcing the doom.

A worried boy wandering out in the heat,
Saw what made his heart skip a beat.
Along came Litchi with his friend riding on a bicycle,
After she said no to him “the sun was too harsh to cycle”.

It felt like somebody had punched him,
like the school bully who hit anybody at his whim.
Crying he ran in her house, her mom treated him like son.
Enraged he thought of malice to be done.

One eye looked at Litchi talking to her mate
other saw her Goldfish, gifted by him on her ‘fave’ date
“This one is the best” hugging him she had said
Clearing away the gifts that were on the table instead

“We are gonna keep it with us always!”
Overjoyed said the boy believing in the fixity of the days
With the purity of joy only childhood could deliver
They had vowed to be ‘bestest friends’ forever

“Yes this would be the punishment” he thought with odium in his chest
“She deserves it for breaking my heart” Poetic justice at its best!
Without flinching he pushed the bowl off the table
A loud crash and sound of three breaking hearts, too quite to label

A few second of the goldfish flipping and a lifetime of qualm.
Then came the deafening silence, the most uneasy calm
Wide eyed he stood, too numb to take in the dismay,
Felt like a lifetime with the fish since the last may.

He tried to shout but he was choked by his own fear,
Eyes unable to see, vision hindered by a million tear.
What had he done! For he loved the fish too.
How much before this sombre moment he didn’t knew.

A life gone in a fit of rage,
A folly not justifiable for any age.
His heart pounding, he ran for a bottle for water.
Maybe she will come back and forget of her slaughter.

Too young to know that nothing comes back from the dead
No matter what you did or what you said.
Even back in the water she didn’t open her eyes.
“I know what you did!” said the walls, acting like Litchi’s spies

The walls were closing on him and room felt too small to hide.
They played hide-and-seek here, in this very room where her goldfish died!
How will he ever face her, he worried, thrown out his niche?
No he couldn’t, he wished he had died with her fish.

He always got his wish, is this why he became this way?
Litchi always humoured him or was he too difficult to sway?
He owned her. Litchi was his and his only!
A day away from he had felt very lonely.

Last year when she went on holiday, he had behaved like a brat
Angry at him, “I’ll be back soon” she had said, in the car as she sat
But for this she would never forgive him. “Go and never come back!”
He already heard her voice echoing as he saw light from the door crack.

Dragging his feet out of the house, he saw one last glimpse of Litchi’s face
“We should call him from his house, he would like to come along too”
She chirped and thanked her friend for getting fixed her punctured tyre
Like a ton of bricks it hit him, that he had set afire their friendship’s pyre

Crying he felt the sky revolving around him as he almost fainted.
He reached home and with his unending lonesomeness tried to get acquainted.
He was ready for boarding school he told his overjoyed dad,
And asked to be dropped to Grandpa’s, whom he always considered a bore.
Immediately his car left, drowning the sobs of a little girl,
Who ran behind the car hysterically crying their goldfish was no more!

The Devil's Advocate

In Russia when communist government declared that there will be nothing as Private Property and everything will be run by the government, they did point out that everything literally cannot be run by the government and there will be few a exceptions.

When someone asked like what? The first example they could think of was Restaurants.

Though running restaurants isn’t the world’s oldest profession but they have been there since time immemorial. They satisfy one of the man’s most basic needs – ‘Hunger’.

And here are the reasons why Restaurant business has really proliferated –

• You live alone and you can’t cook for yourself so whenever you feel hungry you head out to a Restaurant.
• You live alone and are tired of cooking for yourself so you head out to a Restaurant.
• You don’t live alone but you are you are bored of your wife’s food so you head out to a Restaurant.
• Or perhaps your wife is bored of cooking for you so she sends you out to a Restaurant so she can take a break.
• It can be that you are happily married and like your wife’s food very much and even she likes to cook for you but either you or her are out of town and you can’t stay without something as basic
• as food so you go to a Restaurant till she comes back. This is much more comfortable than going to your neighbour’s house.
• Or perhaps your friends dropped in and your wife cannot cook for everyone so you order from a Restaurant.
• Maybe she is too tired to cook for you tonight so you order from a Restaurant.
• Or it’s your birthday and you want to treat your friends so you take them to a Restaurant.
• Or perhaps it’s your anniversary and you want to treat your wife so you take her to a Restaurant.
• It could be possible that a hot new Thai restaurant opened in your city and you want to experience Thai food. You can never know it’s good or bad without tasting it.
• And it last it can be possible that your wife cooks very well and you like it very much and she’s ready to cook whenever you want to eat but she won’t cook non veg as she thinks it’s too filthy so whenever you feel like it you have to go to a Restaurant.

Now replace ‘food’ with ‘sex’, ‘Restaurant’ with ‘Prostitutes’, ‘cooking’ with ‘Fucking’, and make a few more appropriate changes. Then you’ll realize that why I think Prostitution should be legalized :-P
And that is the world’s oldest profession!

There are a million other reasons why it should be legalized, to save the prostitutes from the abuse of client and pimps, to promote safe sex, to increase the government’s tax kitty by legalizing the transaction etc etc... But I thought I’ll put down the most basic and (not so) common-sensical one.

P.S. - In common parlance, a devil's advocate is someone who takes a position he or she disagrees with for the sake of argument. This process can be used to test the quality of the original argument and identify weaknesses in its structure.

During the canonization process of the Roman Catholic Church the Devil's Advocate, is a canon lawyer appointed by Church authorities to argue against the canonization of the candidate. It served a useful role in ensuring that canonizations did not proceed without due care and hence the status of sainthood was not easily achieved.

Ten Commandments for a Road Trip

Thou shalt not believe your friends when they say the place is only 4 hours away. It always turns out to be more. For a good estimate always multiply the said time by 1.5.

Thou shalt not agree to ride pillion. Especially on a Pulsar 180. Otherwise you will soon be wishing for an ASS replacement surgery.

Thou shalt not listen when you friends say we will stop at the next Dhaba/Shop. They will always say that at the last Dhaba/Shop for the next one hour.

Thou shalt not carry a huge bag. You will end up carrying unnecessary stuff, what’s really needed you are going to forget anyway.

Thou shalt not stop at the FAMOUS Dhabas on the way. They will serve ordinary food, charge astronomical prices and will have Fat Aunties with their Fat Kids asking for Mineral Water and an A.C Section.

Thou shalt not calculate the remaining time by dividing the distance by your current speed. No matter what’s your top speed is the Indian Roads and Traffic will limit your Average Speed to 60.

Thou shalt not try to overtake a Speeding Haryana Roadways. There is no surer way to death, or atleast permanent disability.

Thou shalt always drive with a High Beam. So the other Idiots who are doing this in the opposite lane get a taste of their own medicine.

Thou shalt not take a road trip in a car with its windows rolled up. Then you are not part of the Frame. Anything you see out of your window is more T.V.

Thou shalt take a road trip. Only then you can truly understand the meaning of the word FREE !

Thank You For Smoking

The title is not original but my thoughts certainly are. Our very concerned, active and vociferous Health Minister (not anymore) Dr Anbumani Ramadoss declared a nationwide smoking ban sometime back.

According to the Government Notification you are prohibited to smoke in public places i.e. your office, Bus/Train stations, malls, restaurants, pubs and hookah bars. But you are however allowed to smoke on the roads. And all these days I thought that the roads were public place and your office wasn’t!

The second hand smoke that smokers puffed out was very harmful for non smokers and they were given this smoke without their wanting it. I’m sure the people who came to enjoy a smoke free environment in Hookah bars would be thrilled by this. After all Passive smoking is said to be as bad as active smoking if not more.

But Dr. Ramadoss was not totally inconsiderate to the poor smokers who are addicted to this poison by a deliberate ploy staged by the tobacco companies and by no fault of their own. They have been given a provision of having a smoking section inside Pubs/Bars/Clubs. Not only the guidelines for having a smoking section are incredibly easy to understand but very easy to follow too. Which has practically translated to 25 people smoking in a '6 X 6' room and enjoying first hand, second hand… tenth hand and god only knows what hand smoke. And if a non smoker goes there to give his smoker friend company he can enjoy it too without even paying for a single cigarette.

But the real genius of this whole ban is the part where people can smoke on the road. So we now have the entrances of Pubs/Clubs/Restaurants teeming with people who came out for a smoke. And trust me they are a sizable number. So they then can enjoy the first/second/tenth hand smoke out there, but it doesn’t stop here. They pass this enjoyment to the passers-by too on the street who did not have anything to do with the club.

It has been said the worst things in this world were done by people trying to make things better.

Latest I heard that they want to have a pictorial warning on the cigarette pack. Maybe somewhere they read that “A picture is worth a thousand words” and suddenly light dawned on Marble head. But in any case whoever thought they could educate the people about the ill effects of smoking from a cigarette pack must be a fucking genius, and not to forget that most cigarettes in India are sold loose, i.e. without the pack. So the only person getting educated might be the ‘Paanwala’ only. And after the millions of dollars cigarette companies spend on making the pack more attractive this stupid warning doesn’t stand a chance.

Also the fallacy lies in the fact that all the smokers are well aware of the ill effects. In fact according to a study most people over estimated the risks of smoking rather than under estimating it.

But the biggest blunder of this plan is the more unreachable and more ‘BAD’ they make cigarettes the more they will allure teens. And the biggest problem is teen smoking (by teen I mean here people around and below the age of nineteen/twenty and by adults somebody who is out of college and well settled). Most teens pick up smoking because of the ‘Adultness’ and ‘Badness’ of it. You remember that ad “With a cigarette in my hand I felt like a Man”? That’s as true today as it was true 15 years ago.

Most boys pick up smoking because they see their ‘role model’ the ‘macho guy’ the guy who has everything they don’t have but always wanted, smoking. And smoking is their easiest character trait to pick up. Or they do it to become a part of the ‘Cool Crowd’, all the ‘Cool’ people are doing it and they don’t wanna be left out.

And most Girls pick up smoking because they want to shatter the societal norms of ‘Good girls don’t smoke’ or they wanna be a part of the boys, ‘to be one of the guys’.

And who can deny the thrill of buying you cigarette, your heart beating, then sneaking it your room, lighting it when everyone’s sleep and sharing it with your best friend. You go to school/college the next day with your head high and an ‘all knowing smile’, everybody asks ‘I heard you smoked a cigarette last night! How was it? How did it feel like? Did you cough? Suddenly you are a celebrity!

Teen smoking is on the rise, while Adult smoking is steadily declining. That’s why companies like Zippo are coming up with Pens and Gas Lighters, because Adult smokers who buy their Cigarette lighters are declining.

The reason:

An Adult will never ask an another Adult to smoke but a Teen will. “Abey pee le! Ab tu to bada ho gaya. Le ek kash leke dekh.”

Anyways getting back to Skull and cross bones. What he, Dr. Ramadoss probably overlooked was that the biggest killer in this country is not tobacco; it ain’t drunken driving or cancer either. It’s obesity. That causes a myriad of problems. Heart Disease, Diabetes, High blood pressure etc etc. So I think obesity causing products must be the first to be adorned with Skull and cross bones.

I would love to see Amul Girl to be replaced with Skull and Cross bones on the Amul butter, Ronald to be replaced with Skeletor outside every McDonalds. A statutory warning on the Sign Board of every ‘Halwai’. “Warning – Eating samosas is injurious to health”
By now you must be wondering if I smoke or not. As much as I sound like Nick Naylor from the movie of the same name as the Title. I don’t. I hate passive smoking too. In fact I am clinically allergic to cigarette ash. But I would leave you with one of Voltaire’s quotes – “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”