The Tragedy of being 26+ MBA in an Indian IT company

I read some guy named Frankie’s (Siddesh Agashe) blog about TheTragedy of being 25+ in an Indian BSchool. I found it funny like many others; it has become quite a rage in fact. Though I couldn’t picture myself in the category he talked about I knew a lot of guys like that. I myself was in the awkward no-man zone in between the cool kids and seen-it-know-it-alls. I was 23 when I joined the B School but with no work ex (Due to my taking a year off once after school and one after engineering for…. Aah never mind). So I was not fun enough to have fun with cool kids and the work-ex people never came to me for advice or career or any other intellectual discussions. But then it had it pros too, I was not labled Uncle or Bade Bhaiya and I wasn’t counted in non serious, you-don’t-deserve-to-be-in-a-B-School crowd, in fact people used to criticize college’s policy to take non work-ex right on my face, when I used to go “Hey!” they used to say “Abey matlab tu nahi yaar”. So I wasn’t worried about receding hairline but a bulging waistline nevertheless, I wasn’t considering this an extension of my DU days but hadn’t worked either. So all in all a straddle position between these groups, so I didn’t give this post much thought just smiled though it and got it over with. 

THEN IT HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS!

I am that guy, only not in a BSchool but in an IT company and then I realized the tragedy of being a 26+ MBA passout in an IT company!

I’m guessing like most people when I came into an IT company I had the following dreams –

•  Fancy title like Consultant or Business Analyst. High quality work
• Not starting the day with 14 gaalis and boss waving the paper with target written on in my face. And have to nothing to look forward to except Sun, Sweat and Dirt.
• A/C Office, sophisticated people to talk to, Glitzy campuses, Metropolitan cities
• Not being at the bottom of the food chain
• And most importantly – Girls!

But as they say, be careful what you wish for.

Now that I am here, this is no different than being 25+ in an Indian B School. In fact it is like walking into Amity or Lovely Professional University, only 5 years too late and already having a masters degree.  And then –

• All the girls you like will be already be 4 years younger to you and walking with 2 guys her age, at best they will ignore you or give you the ‘why is that old creep looking at me?’ look.
• All the girls your age would already be either married or engaged. They will happily wear their Chudiyans, Manglasutra and Sindoor which is their way of saying “back the f*** off from me”.
• You will laugh at mails which say that there is some dancing competition/Antakshri/Mimicry competition happening. But when your manager asks so have you been taking part in any activities or any initiatives you will cut a sorry figure.
• You will look down upon the software engineers, saying “in saalon kee to zindagi code likhte likhte nikal jayegi, accha hua main bach gaya”. Then you will be given even a worse job where terms like UTA, PTT, MLAP will keep hitting you and finally you will have to run to some software engineer for help.
• When you meet another IT guy he will ask what do you do, you will smirk and say “Oh I’m a SAP consultant” or “Oh I’m an Business Analyst for Banking & Capital Markets” when he will ask you whether you use Secure socket Layer in R/3 structure with ECC 6 version for SAP or do you recommend a database transaction mechanism which guarantees ACID properties in order to ensure data integrity despite concurrent user accesses (concurrency control) for banks, you will pull the face like Pamela Anderson asked you for Teerth Yatra  .
• You will pull out your fake accent when the Technology leads calls you and say “Hi this is Ankit, glad to be talking to you Narayan” mentally picturing a dark, dumb, merely an engineer with bad ‘communication skills’.  Further you will try to dazzle him with how you calculated the Security Market Line, Treynor ratio and Alpha in your MBA and then go mute when he asks if you have worked in a JAVA environment or you do know how to migrate objects in SAP using BAP or IDOCs.

Now that I have written I think I am already going into depression. I need a drink, or a girl, or at least a project.

Idiot's guide to Living a fabulous life on Facebook

You, yes you. Are you an ugly geek with a knack of putting people of with your talk or are you a self righteous bitch with an eating disorder? Do you secretly hate, loathe and despise yourself and everyone around you. Do you don’t want seem to seen as a loser by the people around you? Do you want everyone to envy your pathetic life? Do you had all these problems and more and didn’t know who to ask. Don’t despair, help is here, following these simple advice even a good-for-nothing slob like you can make a few people jealous. You too can have a fabulous life that turns people green or at least on Facebook.

And the key to all this is Facebook. Yes Facebook the site where you logon once in a while to find that you have no notifications and to look at pictures of good looking girls/guys. If you don’t have a huge number of friends on FB already start adding people immediately, don’t worry about knowing them, with your social skills the names of all your friends could be very well written on a page that you had in front of you to doodle on a two hour long phone call. Plus your friends already know what kind of a fucktard you are, so don’t worry about them. The real meat is in the acquaintances, the people who know you but hardly know you. So keep adding everyone who you faintly recognize and pray that the other person is stupid enough to approve your request. The guy who sat in the bus near you once or the girl whom you lech at across your floor in the office are all green zones. After your circle of acquaintances is complete you go right along to Phase-2.

Now the task is to create an interesting persona. The days of “Hi sexy babes I want to be frands with you so add me” or “I’m a cute sweet girl who wants to be friends with all the smart and nice guys and gals” are over. Nor a picture of Hrithik Roshan or a little girl holding a flower will do as a profile pic. The picture has to be you, but again ‘you’ here is a very fluid concept here. You are butt ugly, not even you will like looking at yourself, and you know that you don’t have a good angle. So the trick is to show yourself without really showing yourself. For guys take a photo of yourself wearing a dark helmet sitting on a borrowed bike, girls take a photo of your bare leg with some jewellery on it or perhaps your hands with Mehandi on it. For girls the more skin the better it is, for guys the reverse is true. Do some R&D on what are the in books, movies and TV shows these days, here not being a complete moron certainly helps. Add books like Motorcycle Diaries or The Ferrari Years for guys and Grapes of Wrath and the Postman always Rings Twice for girls should do it, add a few TV shows like FRIENDS or HIMYM which everyone with half a brain can like and few movies like Black Swan, The Bicycle Thief, Lost in Translation which shows that only you have a good taste but you are also deep. The final touch is liking a number of senseless pages like Dunhill, Lamborghini and Johnnie Walker or Prada, Jimmy Choo and PETA depending on your gender. Now the foundation is laid. Time for Action!

The whole plan stems from basic human insecurity. Everyone thinks that everyone else has better looks, a better partner, a better job, a better car, all in all a better life. What do they say about green grass on the side? You know your life sucks but the others don’t and that’s what you have to do to them, show them how much fun you are having and what they are missing out on. And the key to it is regular status updates and uploading photos. You know that the five minutes in shower thinking about your old English teacher or stuffing your face with chocolate pastries is the high point of your day, but other don’t have to know that. For example, got drenched in the rain while coming back from office? Write: ”Had an awesome bike ride in the rain” as your status update. Met your classmates in the canteen after a weekend while cribbing over the same food for years? Write: Neha and Sonia it was so good seeing you after so long. And the Aaloo Puri, Yummm… Love you darlings”. The MD himself came down to jack you for being the biggest shit magnet in his company write: “Very busy day. Meeting with MD today”. Got drunk in the cheapest bar (Raj Lakshmi Bar) near you while making a fool of yourself? Write: Crazy night with friends. Beer at RLB Rocks!!” Stuck at home with nothing to do except to watch the 19^th Re-Run of Alice in Wonderland? Write: “Tim Burton you are a magician. Never have I seen such a ethereal combination.” Got dragged to a boring cultural program by your parents? Write: “Watched a great performance of Bharatnatyam in the Grand Auditorium, never realized India is so blessed with culture before tonight”

Cryptic or leading status messages are also welcome. Something like “All set to rock. Weekend here I come” works well even if you have nothing to look forward except doing your laundry on the weekend. And we all know how important relationships are for women so keep hinting towards your mystery man with status updates like “Missing you so much, wish you were here L ….” You don’t have to mention that you meant your dog.

Now comes the tricky part, the photos. You have to be regular uploading those but you still have to be aware of the quality or people will soon find out what a twat you really are. For guys the modus operandi is like this, first get off your lazy ass, go out, you don’t really have to do something, just pose for photos. Going out with a big group is always advisable, people’s tolerance for stupidity is high in a crowd, plus someone in the group will do something make sure to pose exactly like he did. Sit in the raft with the safety gear and get a photo and then get the hell out as you know you are scared shitless, can’t drink even a beer without puking guts all over the next guy? Shouldn’t stop you from posing with a beer. And remember always be ready to jump in front of the camera every time anyone is getting their picture taken regardless of whether they want you in or not. And if there are girls in that group it is Manna from heaven, make sure to be included in the girl’s group photos, nothing gets the envy quotient up like a seeing another guy with 8 girls around him. For overkill ask every girl one by one to have a photo with you, of course it is creepy but you have never had a chance with them anyway. Easier way would be to just happen to be around when she was getting her photo clicked and just slide in saying “Hey we don’t have a photo together, do we?” And then start grinning like an idiot looking towards the camera without waiting for her answer.  For women some part can even be done indoors, just hug or roll around with your friends or soft toys. Or get a makeover and then pose around your house in every angle you can think of, some guys who are even more desperate than you are going to praise it, then keep replying thanks to everyone personally even to the people who just clicked ‘like’, that’ll increase the number of comments making it top news. Go to the mall and hoard all your friend’s shopping bags and get a photo taken, make a caption “Day out in the mall with the girls, shopped till I drop”, even though all you bought was a bottle of cheap fairness cream. Pose around with every new dress or accessory that you bought and write “Gifted by a special someone ;-)”, which is not entirely untrue, you are special, even your teacher had the same opinion when she wanted to send you to special school. Remember when showing skin more is less, then get random  off topic discussion going on them so that they stay in news, even better is to put up with a caption “OMG I look so fat in this” then some idiot will say “No, not at all, you look fabulous sweetie”. I hope you get the drift.

Keep going like this and soon you would have won enough admirers to garner an iota of self-confidence and make your pitiful life a little better.But remember when in doubt don’t do it, or at least copy from someone else, not many people will know that “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt“ was by Mark Twain and not you. And be careful not to actually become friends with your friends of Facebook, because only "on the Internet nobody knows you are a dog".

And when all this works for you remember to send me some money, I’m bankrupt after my Pattaya Trip.

P.S. - Find more guides for Idiot's like you here - B Schoolers, Living among guys, Manipulate and abuse people 

Coming Soon - James Bong: The Spy Who Scrapped Me

The Dark Passenger

“You don't like yourself. But you do admire yourself. It's all you've got so you cling to it. You're so afraid if you change, you'll lose what makes you special.  Being miserable doesn't make you better than anybody else, House. It just makes you miserable.” – Dr. James Wilson: From House M.D.

The image you see above has been my laptop wallpaper for quite some time. Most considered the image disturbing, disgusting even and always asked me why such a wallpaper. As always for these things, I had no 

answer. It is as Dexter describes my ‘dark passenger’.

I wished the story ended here but my morbid fascination with death, the undead and likes doesn’t end here. I am and always was fascinated by vampires, the concept of using someone’s blood to stay immortal appealed to me ever since I was a kid. I have seen pretty much all vampire movies which are out there, except Twilight that is. I don’t really like to see an animal blood drinking; humane, goody two shoes vampire. I like my vampires cold, chilling and bloodthirsty. I used to hang onto sites like vampiresfreaks.com, vampirescene.com a lot once.

My favorite TV series are Dexter, House, The Mentalist where the protagonist is damaged by some trauma and is maniacal, self destructive and is addicted to something or the other. I have seen Dev D at least 100 times and continue to do that every time I get drunk alone. I get severe bouts of what I call the ‘Devdas Syndrome’, I shut myself in my room and start drinking alone and all the dark thoughts inside come rushing out. It is when sleeping monster in the depths of my brain snap his eyes open, Max Payne’s words, my favorite video game, where again the character has self destructive behavior, insomnia, inner demons, disturbing monologues, the whole works.

I became a big time insomniac after my messy once-upon-a-time break-up and still have relapses, I couldn’t sleep for four months once and I get those episodes again. I have trouble falling asleep on most nights. Most times I either listen to music till I fall asleep to silence the inner voice which keeps me awake or I drink myself to unconsciousness. My fascination with alcohol is well known even though I am not a heavy drinker, amount wise at least. I am still a light sleeper and wake up on the slightest disturbances and have trouble sleeping back again.

My sarcasm, cynicism and habitual mocking are well known too. Defense mechanisms as a psychologist would put it, a system designed to keep people and ideas at a distance so as to not get hurt if and when they let me down. I generally don’t share my inner feelings with the people near me, which is my brother’s biggest complaint. Every time when just two of us drink together he tells-all and the most I have to offer is silent nodding or some anecdotes. This is actually the reason I started this blog, I somehow prefer to write down my thoughts and publish it to be read by people around me rather than speak to my near ones.

Other signs are there too, a lot of color black in wardrobe, thick curtains in my room, commitment issues, hard rock as choice of music (though I have toned down in the recent years), fascination with the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy, spinning stories about serial killers in my head, even my choice is porn is too hardcore for most people. 

When I reread this it sounds like it is some rant about my cool-ness and how I am so unique accentuated by a lot of hyphens, and to be on a even keel here most of my friends like the stuff I do. Dexter, House etc are widely seen TV shows, millions of people have played and liked Max Payne, Dev D is a cult hit again. Many of friends like vampire movies and there is no dearth of insomniacs either. Maybe it’s nothing, nothing more than my narcissism, and my imagination running wild. Maybe it’s everything.

I can assure that the clinical analysis of a psychiatrist of these things is not good. I know because of my amateur knowledge of psychology and psychiatry. And the various test which I keep taking on the internet which all point towards the same conclusion. The psychiatric evaluation also points towards some severe emotional trauma which caused this. But whatever you have read about emotional trauma like childhood trouble, parental neglect, some mishap or other fancy things which Hollywood and popular culture dumps on you, never happened to me. No wife and child murdered by psycho killers, no gunman in the dark alley, no parent’s divorce, no alien abduction. I was raised in normal, plain vanilla middle-class family, have one older brother, parents who love me, a set of close friends, two decent relationships, a job and no dysfunctional attributes. As I said, maybe it’s nothing, nothing more than an attempt of self assertion of importance, a feeble effort to break free from the clutter.

But as I write this in a severe vodka induced hang-over I change my laptop’s and phone’s wallpaper from Michelle Rodriguez holding a gun and vampire drawing blood to more society friendly themes. And fight the urge to write a melancholy poem about betrayal in love instead of this. Maybe now I would get some sleep, while watching a rerun of Dev D that is.

I don't miss you

No I don’t miss you,

I’m very much over you.

I don’t drink all night and hope

in the morning I won’t feel so blue.

Yes this valentine I thought of you,

But that’s’ just a day in a year about you.

I wore the shirt you got me

Only to bid it my final adieu.

May be in a few dreams I saw you,

But those are involuntary, believe me you.

We were together in it,

Or till in our love a dagger I drew

And this girl I saw that looked liked you

But you have a common face, don’t you?

Why did I run for her glimpse again?

I have no clue.

There's this little twinge I feel,

whenever I eat without you.

But why eat when to live is useless,

high time I took that cue.

No need to worry about me,

whatever I said is all true.

Just that every time I breathe

I only think about you.

The Big Fat Indian Wedding Trip

Like all great journeys this also begins with a girl, or at least because of a girl who Ankit Khandelwal hereby refered to as ‘Khandu,’started seeing in his engineering college and after passing out from IMI decided to get married to. He was the first one in our circle of friends of IMI who was getting married to everyone was pretty enthusiastic to attend this marriage, it was also to serve as a reunion for us to grand plans were under way. The fateful date was 1^st of March which was decided much because of availability of marriage halls in Agra than anything else.

Chapter 1: The Run – Up –

Big plan were drawn up, mails were sent to track the closure of events and messages like ‘Have you made it large for Khandu’s wedding’ were put up in facebook communities, Con Calls were fixed, itineraries were sent for approval and dress code was freezed. I, Anuj and Akshat got our tickets done and responsibilities for staying and booking a Cab was sent to Khanna. Russian Prostitutes, Single Malts, Puking all over Delhi and Splitting the head of our class mate was part of the plan at one point or the other.

But things never work out as planned and Anuj didn’t get the leaves to come and Khanna had to attend a meeting right on the day of the marriage so 2 guys dropped out at the last moment, Akshat was having issues with getting his leave approved and was on the Verge of dropping out himself, but then he did make it with his signature line “Kaam bade lekin naam hai Chote”. And yes Khanna the genius the was allotted two things booking a hotel and booking a cab, which he took for granted and didn’t do till the last moment and at that time he couldn’t do it.

Chapter 2: Day 1 –

I had planned to arrive in Delhi on Friday only as I wanted to make the most of this time, I had swiped out from the campus at 16:00 and was well on my way at 16:30 to catch the 20:00 clock flight, I was very early as usual (touch wood) decided to have a Johnnie Red at the Airport Bar and a Pizza, see when it’s Khandu’s wedding you have to start out large (pun intented). And I was bent on reaching at 20:05 for the 20:00 flight this time for boarding, I was tired of waiting 2 hours in the security area, then waiting in line for boarding and then waiting in the flight to take off, this time I had planned to be the last guy in the flight and I very nearly succeeded.

I got down at around 22:00 and picked up 2 Veg. and 3 Non Veg burgers from Fast Trax for the boys, first round of surprise came in when Khanna told me the hotel Star World where we were planning to stay (it had amazing beds, and just that I am not misunderstood, we like jumping on them, that’s all) is fully booked and gave the address of a Hotel in Gurgaon. I met Khanna and Mayank at around midnight and we all screamed for at least a minute after seeing each other. Mayank had brought a bottle of 100 Pipers and we wanted to get started right away. As I was waiting for the glasses Khanna dug in a burger was happily enjoying it when I hesitatingly said “Uhh Khanna, shayad tu Non Veg wala Burger kha raha hai” (Khanna is a vegetarian, or at least he likes to think so, he had eaten Fish Pakoras happily too before somebody told him it was fish). He ran to the sink to spit and we cracked ourselves with laughter. “Khanna saale bhooke, khaane se pehle dekh to leta kee kaunsa burger kha raha hai, tereko maluum hai hum log hamesha Don burger khate hai jo Non Veg hai” Mayank commented. Khanna replied “Haan mujhe bhi aaloo thoda ajeeb sa to lag raha tha burger mae”, this was followed by another round of laughter. Soon thereafter we got down to the bottle and didn’t stop till there were only 2 pegs left in it. Mike the Psyche was back, there were quite a few bottoms up and I for once didn’t sleep after drinking, in fact I was the last to doze off. A big achievement for me lately, or at least in front of this group of friends, I was pretty pleased with myself, half a bottle down and still up (Smug Smile). And I got to have Dal Makhani, a thing I was not able to have for a past month or so.

Chapter 3: Day 2 –

I was starved for more than Dal Makhani from the past month, even seeing girls after I have been shifted to this campus has become rarer than a funny Akshay Kumar movie. So when Akshat arrived and ditched us to have a drink with is ‘FRIENDS’ and asked us what do we plan to right now I had a single line answer “Ladkiyan Taadni hai”. So went for what is the only thing possible in Gurgaon, mall hopping. I actually did shop for a few things, considering the fact that I don’t get to come to a city very often. One important piece of info here, when were leaving the room Mayank asked me if I was leaving any valuable in the room, normally I don’t worry about such things but that day I remembered that my Walkman was lying outside, Mayank took that and put it in his suitcase and locked it. After deliberating over whether we should watch ‘7 khoon maaf’ or ‘Tanu weds Manu’ or go for paintball shooting we finally settled for what we always do, drinking and eating. I also explained the concept of ‘arriving’ to Khanna and how Delhi boys always need gel in their hair, Khanna really ran with the concept and asked for my hair gel when were leaving ‘to arrive’ as he put it. We had a few pints in Ruby Tuesday where some kid was having birthday party; “plenty of Cougars around”, the thought went through my head seeing their moms, couldn’t find anybody in animal print though, sad. 

After that Mayank’s pizza mania started, we had pizza at Pizza hut where we ran into a few IMI batch mates. At the end of it ‘The Prodigal Roommate’ arrived, again the drinking people were in majority. He very rightly shouted “Abey tum log kya yahan khaana khaane aaye ho? Mujhe daaru peeni hai”. We were back in business!

So we headed to Barrique, good ambience and very good music, it was quite some time I heard House music, Mayank apparently liked it too. Downed a couple of beers and a shot of Kamiaze too which Mayank termed as ‘Nimbu Paani’, and ya nachos too which were worse than ‘Masala Papad’ , by this time I was stuffed with beer,  got no place to drink even water. Couldn’t find an auto so we convinced a Cabbie to drop us till the hotel, after haggling a little he agreed, we were planning to pick up Glennfiddich on the way, when I told the guys it was 3200 bucks both said to leave it but I said what the hell, “Dekho brother ye bhi ek course hai jo puura karna hai, mehngi sasti mat socho isme ab”.  Plus anyways I had promised Mayank that I’ll buy him a single malt if I get through Infosys, and I am a man of my word.

Not to sound pretentious but Glennfiddich is one hell of whisky, one of the best I ever tasted! Oh ya the cab driver happily rolled a joint when I was buying the bottle and offered us a few drags too, god help the people he was going to drive back. And Mayank it seems wasn’t done with pizzas, so he ordered more pizzas from Pizza Square, which I have to admit is good. And somewhere along the night Bruce Banner had turned into Hulk, that is Akshat had gone into Gorilla mode. The Pizza Square got the pizza very late who had given it to the bellboy at the reception, the bellboy came up to give the pizza and Akshat went off on him, asking why he brought the pizza so late. After 5 mins of verbal volleys he heard me shouting something “Ruk jaa kaake, ye apna hee aadmi hai, ye Pizza Square wala aadmi nahi hai” at this Akshat asked him to bring the pizza guy up, the guy came, Akshat asked him to come in, he did, Akshat said “Bhaiya darwaza kaun band karega?,so he bolted the door from inside, I tried to rescue the guy but I was no match for The Hulk, then Akshat asked him to grab a chair and sit down. I don’t know what all went through that guy’s head that time but he was scared, he kept looking at me for some help but I couldn’t. The guy sat down and after a few seconds Akshat turned back to his drinking oblivious to the fact that he asked that guy to sit down, he looked at me again pleadingly and I asked him to quietly slip out, Akshat never noticed and I thanked god that no women come to deliver pizza in India . I could hardly eat anything, Mayank and Khanna ate that as well as Aaloo Paranthas and Dal Makhani in the night, I was full of 4 bottles of beer, one shot of Kamikaze and 4 large of Single Malt already. Akshat slept there only that night.

Chapter 4: Day 3 –

Next morning or rather afternoon Akshat ran off again as he had to meet his Buajee and his cousin and all, I wanted to go to Delhi for the day but Mayank and Khanna, the lazy bastards didn’t get off their asses, “Brother B******d main India kee batting to nahi chodunga, match yahi dekh lete hai, ek Pizza aur pakad lo”, so this time they ordered one double burst pizza from Dominos. India played well and Sachin scored a century, I told Khanna that probably this is what Anuj referred to as Sachin’s Swansong, Khanna asked me what Swansong is and I asked him to google it as usual, he flared “Saale jab bhi tujhse kuch puchta huun tu yahi jawab deta hai, pehle to aise chutiyape ke words use karta hai fir matlab bhi nahi batata, pehle bhi tujhse kuch pucha tha main tune yahi kaha fir maine wo dekha hee nahi” so this time I had to explain what it was.

As soon as the inning ended I started jumping lets go to Delhi and settle into some Pub. But then Khanna started explaining me the time line “Dekh abhi 6.30 baje hai, 7.30 tak tu yahan se nikal payega, 9 baje tak Delhi pahuchega, aur raat ko 11 baje kee Metro pakadne ke liye tujhe fir wahan se 10.30 nikalna padega, to tere pass effectievely dedh ghanta hee hai, usme tu kya pee payega”. I was tired of his bull shit if not anything so I agreed to go to some place in Gurgaon, I asked him to find a good pub in Gurgaon, he agreed “Haan mera ek launda hai us se baat karta huun”, the Launda didn’t pick his call, then he said “Ok main Desi se puchta huun”, Desi suggested some run down bars in Gurgaon, I realized that if Khanna or his friends are gonna suggest some pub it is better idea to go to Chinar Dhaba and drink there rather than taking his advice. Finally I called my friend and she told me a few places and recommended a place called the ‘Vapour’. But as soon as we stepped out Mayank started again “Khanna jee kahi accha sa khaana khilwa do”, I was at my wit’s end at this point. I screamed “Brother tum to North India mae rehte ho, upar se apne ghar mae hee rehte ho, khaane ke liye kyun mar rahe ho?” After arguing for some time we agreed that we will go drink now for some time, eat good food somewhere and then buy more booze and drink in the room.

We reached Vapour which was a good place, it was a microbrewery  actually, I tasted two beers over there , both were different but good, foamy and full bodied. Saw the match for a while, there was no music playing, some photographer came and took our pictures, I told Khanna that we might make page 3 in Delhi Times tomorrow where they publish the last night’s parties photos, Khanna shook his head and said “Arey nahi wo log to koi celebrities hote hai jinki photos aati hai”. I laughed and disagreed that all of them are celebrities, I had my photo in Bangalore Times twice when I used to party, I told him. After seeing India getting clobbered for some time we had enough and left to eat as some place called Dana Choga and stopped to pick up booze from Spencers, we also picked up chocolate (Lindt) and Perrier (which Akshat washed his hands with in the end) from there. I wanted to pick up Bombay Sapphire and asked Mayank about it, his reply was a question “Brother hum ye piyenge? Matlab hum waakai YAHI piyenge?” I took the hint and finally picked up a bottle of Jim Beam. Post dinner we started drinking again, talk went to how I like Dusky girls and whether my previous girl friend was fairer to me or not and stuff. I little whisky loosened my tongue and I started showing my old college pics and talking about my sad love story, but instead to getting some kind of sympathy people were falling asleep left and right. So I called it a night and put up a alarm to get up early next day morning. Akshat was supposed to leave his house by 6 from in a cab he had booked last night, when he had again let off his line “Ye sala Khanna kisi kaam ka nahi hai, aakhikaar cab mujhe hee book karni padi. Kaam bade lekin  naam hai chote.”

Chapter 5: Day 4 –

Today is where the fun starts, it was Harsh’s Marriage and Ankur’s marriage (read about it here) all over again. I and Mayank got up at 6 and checked our cell phones realizing that Akshat hadn’t called yet which meant he hadn’t left. Without saying a word to each other we both went to sleep again. Akshat called some time later telling us that he had left and we started packing and getting ready. You see the trip was going smoothly till now which can never be the case when I go for a wedding at least. After I was done packing I realized my Walkman was nowhere to be seen, I checked my jeans, my suit case and the hotel drawers once more after which I broke the news to Mayank, he said he had kept it in his suit case, he went through his stuff again but it was nowhere to be found. We checked our luggage and the room again and asked Akshat and Khanna if they knew where it was, Akshat coldly replied he hadn’t seen it and Khanna replied in his sleep that he doesn’t know, when I asked if it could be in his bag and he again snapped back saying it is not. So I had to check in his bag, after checking the hotel’s dirty drawers I had to touch Khanna’s dirty drawers too while checking, which let’s just say wasn’t a pleasurable experience. We searched everywhere but couldn’t find them anywhere and reached the conclusion that it had been stolen, flicked from Mayank’s bag when we had left last night.

We loaded our stuff in the car and argued with the hotel guys for sometime who all proclaimed their innocence, it was un-fruitful and we knew that from the start. While leaving I handed over the cover of the walkman to those people, asking them to use that lest it gets scratches on the screen, they made a face and took it. Khanna left as he was not coming with us and we went on our way to Agra

The car was wobbly from the start, I guess it was a nice way to prepare us for the baraat, a car that jives while it drives. Akshat complained about it but the driver flat out refused to admit it such a thing. After filling up petrol worth 1100 bucks and paying the 700 odd tolls and taxes we entered U.P., we stopped at a Dhaba to eat Tandoori Paranthas while getting back in we realized that we had a flat, the driver drove a little more (I can’t fathom why) and then stopped to change the tyre. When we started driving off from there some guy pointed out that we had one more puncture, this time the left front unlike previous one which was right front tyre. The driver grumbled something about some foul play and I thought so too. We went to a puncture repair shop nearby he start getting it fixed, he was told his tubes were gone and he should get them both replaced. So we gave him 1000 bucks more to get it done, the puncture asked him to get the spare tyre fixed as well as he said it is hot and he has long way to go, shouldn’t take that risk, bad omen I realize now. I was wondering if this was some kind of business model, puncture the tyres at the dhaba and fix them at this shop 100 meters later. The guy peeked in the car and said looking at Mayank and Akshat “Abey Wajan tere pass itna zyada, party VIP hai, aur tyre Chinese?”

Anyways this time I sat in the front as we went on our way, the driver had obviously seen an advance screening of ‘Drive Angry’ and was playing the part of the car driver from hell with perfection, he made amply sure that I didn’t sleep as whenever I tried to sleep he pulled one maneuver which would put ‘The Transporter’ to shame. And then…. Bang ! Another blowout, the car swerved around dangerously before stopping, I realized that the Chinese tyre in the front right had a big hole in it and was wasted, trying to hold on to our patience we cursed Akshat for booking this superb car . I recited “Kaam bade lekin  naam hai chote” to him.

After this fiasco we got on the road, and I had very nearly dozed off when I felt the car swerving like crazy one more time, this time it was the rear right one, the tyre had blown so bad that even the Radial wires had come out. Akshat lost it that time he started screaming on the phone to the guy who sent the car while Mayank was about to go berserk on the driver, I on the other hand walked up to a Dhaba nearby and asked how far we are from Agra and how could be go from here to there, we were near some place called Barari, he said you can take a Magik from here to Agra. I told them in any case I am not getting in this car again and we took out our luggage from the car and started to look for a ride to Agra, few Magiks and Buses passed by but none stopped because they were either full or hesitant to stop in the middle of nowhere. Finally we found a 6 seater auto which said it will take us to place called Farah, having no choice we got in that and took a ride till Farah where we were supposed to find lot of transportation to Agra, when we called Khandu his two cents were “Abey itni saari buses aati hai us route kisi mae bhi baith ke aa jao”, when we asked if any of his friends or relatives were to come by from this way who could give us a ride he replied “Na koi aa raha hai aur na hee koi aane wala hai, khud he aa jao.” Great.

Anyways then we found a guy who used to run a sharing auto there, we asked to just take us in his auto to Agra, he said he can just go till Sikandara and for 150 Rs he will take us and our luggage to there and get us an auto from there to wherever we were going in Agra, so we rode in that 6 seater again till Sikandra, got down then caught an auto again to water works crossing where the hotel was. It was getting crazy once more.

But my ordeal was not yet over Akshat said he hadn’t brought his Kurta Pajama (our decided dress code for the sangeet) as it was too flashy, I think in Agra flashy was the starting point, and then people moved forward from there, as he would soon found out. We wandered around in the market for some time trying to find a kurta for Akshat of ‘his choice’, I was beginning to believe that finding a needle in a hay stack would be easier, everywhere we went Akshat described his choice in great detail, “Bhaiya aisa jisme mae ye collar mae ye aisa kaam nahi ho. Haan ye line thodi aisi aati ho, ye waala thread agar green ke bajai red mae hota ho.” When I shop even the girls go crazy with me, but he was me, on steroids. It was excruciating, I would any day prefer a kick in the balls then Kurta shopping with him, Myank was surprised at me getting frustrated, that too so much. But Allah be praised he found something he liked after going through entire shops after shops, now the next fight was getting him a footwear to go with them. And he repeated the entire procces again and didn’t find anything to his liking. Frustrated and tired we got back to the hotel again and started to get ready again. Akshat and Mayank got ready first and I was left to my own pace when they again got out to look for his foot wear. After some twist and turns we got ready and headed for his Sangeet, it was the same mix of loosely choreographed dances where everyone in the family seemed compelled to show case his or her talent. Kids from his in-laws had prepared some skit on how he had met Shivangi and how the courtship went. We three were really tempted at a few parts to go up on the stage and tell the true story but we refrained. We got out from there, purchased some Black Dog after the shop was closed (from under the shutter in case you are wondering how) came back in the room and started drinking, little later Khandu joined us, and then few of his cousins, we exchanged stories for some time and then I dozed off.

Chapter 6:  the big Day –

We slept like the dead (I apparently snored a lot I am told though) till around 1 or so, got ready, waited for lunch till around 3 and then left without having it. We wanted to go to see the Taj Mahal, we got to it though some twisting lanes and people trying to make a fast buck, in fact everyone in Agra seemed to be wanting to do that, cheat someone out for a little money, Chindi Chori as I would call it.

No need to write about the Taj Mahal, it’s a majestic structure to say the least, after seeing videos and photos of it for years I finally got to see the real thing. We took a couple of cheesy pictures walked around and left. One thing here though, the Taj Mahal is very beautiful and well maintained from the inside but outside it is very un-organized and chaotic, no proper system of queue, of buying tickets, getting a guide, frisking, shoe covers. I guess the government wants everyone to have a piece from the visiting foreigners. One thing which pissed me even more, while Indians were charged 30 bucks for entry foreigners were charged 750, not done.

We hurried back and started to get ready when Khanna called in with very good news, he asked what booze we liked to drink tonight, he was buying. I first asked Johnnie Black, he asked me to go higher so I asked Glenmorangie, he asked me to go higher I said Skyy Vodka, and added that he want to kid around then why not Johnnie Walker Blue label King George V edition, he said that would be too costly so I asked him to buy black label as I realized he might be serious. The good news was that he got 20k bonus and a 1.8 lakh hike and he would reach by the time of the baraat.

I prepared for the Baraat by covering two most important points, putting a lot of deodorant and getting drunk. Then it was the Baraat Dance as usual, or crazy monkey dance as Rohini had christened it. There is something about the beat of the dhol which always makes me want to dance no matter how low I am feeling, I guess I get that from being Indian. So we danced our heart out (it did feel it was gonna come out at one stage) and I got the complement of being called “Tu to saala professional shaadi dancer lagta hai” by Akshat (Smug Smile again)and oh ya he also said I appeared a little thinner than before (Super Smug Smile).

From there it was business as usual, we danced on ‘Kendi Po Po Po…’ for some time inside, lifted him for ‘Jai Mala’, ate a little, drank a little, got our photo clicked with the couple, slipped him a cover of 11k and came back. I had slept when he took his ‘fere’ around 2, had to get up at 4 again.

Chapter 7:  Aftermath –

There was no cab to get back to so we went to the nearest train station ‘Raja kee Mandi´ took a general ticket, hopped on the next train which was going to Delhi which was Lucknow – Delhi Intercity, asked the TTE to give us seats. I barely slept 2 hours last night after drinking and dancing like crazy, could only catch an hour of sleep in the train, got down at New Delhi, said my good byes and got on the metro to the Airport, it was around 11:00 at that time. In the metro I realized that my phone was switched off as the battery was dead, and I had no print out of the e ticket and the PNR was in the phone. I freaked a little as I couldn’t find any charging points in the metro and I couldn’t enter the airport without the PNR. I don’t even remember anybody’s number I realized except my brother’s who will not be able to help me in this case. But thank god I found out a plug point in the metro station that worked after some searching and some help from the staff which was surprisingly helpful (they even asked me to fill a feedback form, in which I gave very generous ratings to them), I charged my cell for 15 mins, noted down the PNR number and got to the exit, which led to the Terminal 3 from where I took a bus to Terminal 1D. Finally I reached the airport, checked in, ate, even took a dump at the airport, picked up playing cards and sat in the flight.

After taking the flight that day I had probably travelled by all means of public transport, an auto, train, metro, bus and then an airplane, all in a day’s work, I got out of the airport, took the aeroexpress to Secunderabad and the fought with Auto-wallahs for half an hour, they started with 500 and finally settled for 200 bucks, but I being over smart insisted on paying 1.5 times meter which actually came out to be Rs 250. I hurried to Infosys to swipe in as it was already 20:00 and I could barely complete my 3.5 hours for the day. Total sleep for the day was less than 4 hours and I was actually feeling jetlagged by the time I got back.

Conclusion : Total Expense – Over 25 large | Places visited – Gurgaon and Agra | Marriage attended – Khandu’s | Booze Drank (In order) – Johhnie Red, 100 Pipers, Glennfidich, Jim Beam, Jo Daniels, Black Dog, Johnnie Black and a few fillers of beer and shots here and there.

All in all one hell of trip!!!!

15 minutes of shame!

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything drunk so I’m really going to spit now. The case of some Suraj aka Nagesh dude is really hot on the internet right now. I’ve been always taking the moral low ground in almost all the cases, but the fact that someone making up a story about their dead mother and blaming his father for the same just to get on to a reality show was too much for me to handle.

I have seen people selling their dignity for less but this is a new low, I can’t understand why people agree to get grilled, ridiculed and embarrassed and try to prove themselves in front two bald twins who’s only accomplishment in life is that they are the executive producers of a now high rated TV show. The show itself is rip off of an American TV show Road Rules, the two idiots who try to portray the ‘Tough Guy’ on screen are DU dropouts and failed twice in some shit course. Many of the people who are interviewed can beat the shit out of them outside but they take all the abuses, name calling and being dragged out by their collar while saying ‘Sorry Sir, Sorry Sir’ because they get to decide who gets to be on the show. And for who, for what? Many of the contestants on these shows already seem to be well off judging from their clothing, the way they maintain themselves and family they come from, so money is not the real motivator for giving your Love for Cash in Truth Love Cash. Adventure or any kind of fun? Hardly any seem to be left when the whole premise is based on bitching, back biting and back stabbing people around you to advance to the next round. And more swear words you hurl and more you slutty the girls act higher are the viewers.

The only thing which is takeaway I think from these reality shows is fame, infamy included, fleeting of course, the winner’s fame last at most till the next season or ‘nonebrities’ as they are known . In shows like Axe your Ex, Emotional Attyachaar, Dare 2 Date it doesn’t even last that long, at most till the next more shocking episode. One girl said while trying to axe her ex that her boyfriend was a bad person and she knew 99% that he was married, why did it take her 2 years to figure out the remaining 1% beats me, only slightly less shocking is the fact that she wants to tell that in front of the camera where a million other people are watching.

But all said this is no dearth of jokers waiting to jump in the bandwagon every time I switch on the idiot box, some gym bred hunky guy from Delhi or Chandigarh is always on the screen mouthing “Yaar maine socha ye bandi apne aap ko samajhti kya hai, matlab, I mean ok she is good looking but hello… Matlab… And you know she looks like a *beep* in that dress, matlab koi *beep* can only do such a tamasha” and girl bitching about some other girl “Wo *beep* apne aap ko samajhti kya hai, matlab kya cheez wo, usko to na main *beep*”. And the more the beeps, more the TRPs. In fact my friends stopped watching Big Boss after Dolly Bindra started holding back the barrage of her curses, “what’s left so see now, everyone is getting along so peacefully”, their words.

Psychologists have termed this as Schadenfreude . the social commentators ‘Shame TV’ while the parents are worried about the ill effect on their children while watching it happily after they go to sleep. I thinks it’s all of that, and at the same time None. Sometimes I think it is just plain old voyeurism, people enjoy seeing someone taken this clothes off in public, only in this case it’s not literal, so when some girl shows on wantonness on the screen or when the guy who resembles our school bully acts like a buffoon we instantly fill better about ourselves. “Hey my life is shit but yours no better either”, the voice inside everyone starts saying this to the contestants. I guess ‘The Joker’ in ‘The Dark Knight’ isn’t the only one trying to prove in the end everybody deep down is as rotten as him. “You know, when are the chips are down, these civilized people, they’ll eat each other up”, his words. People wanting to see society’s dirt is no new phenomenon, from gladiator fights and public hangings to gossip magazine and MMS we have come a long way. People are having sex ever since Adam and Eve wandered in the Garden of Eden, but a sex tape has made many a stars; ask Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian.

Yes more reason to watch these shows in the oomph, these people pick up the hottest girls and hunkiest guys and get them to wear swim suits, pour oil over themselves and then ask them to slide over each other. I don’t know about you, but it’ll catch my eye through any heap of garbage. Shows like Temptation Island or it’s toned down version Splitsvilla, thrive on these things. It’s a well researched fact that they TRPs fall down drastically in certain demographics whenever some hot guy or girl is given the boot in some show.

Of course I am not fundamentally against the concept of reality shows or rather loosely scripted dramas. I don’t mind seeing Master Chef, So you think you can dance, Fear Factor, Kaun banega Crorepati or Sa Re Ga Ma, the fights amongst the judges or the dramatics of the contestants is tolerable till they are showing real people trying to show off their true talent, I don’t mind the emotional fools sending tons of SMS at Rs. 6 per SMS to vote either. But stuff like Big Brother, Temptation Island, Roadies, Axe ur Ex, Dadagiri starts bordering on the absurd, and shows like Rakhi ka Swayammvar and The Bachelor is downright ridiculous.

The case of Rahul Mahajan’s TV bride is well known , one of the contestants of The Bachelorette (he didn’t win) murdered his wife, took out her teeth, disfigured her face and destroyed all other features to identify her corpse, she was later identified by the serial number of her breast implants. Anybody laughing now? Arguments on who was the better singer always goes on for Indian Idol but when it is found out that some girl tried to Axe some guy who was never her Ex and the Channel V people happily did it or when some guy fabricated story about his mother dying on get on to Roadies, I think some kind of shit somewhere must hit the fan. I don’t think it is difficult to see through the staged arguments and fights, the plastic beauties, the unusually high bitching, the slurry of swear words and situations forced on people to throw somebody under the bus. So why kid yourself that you are watching reality TV? While you are watching somebody selling their soul for 15 minutes of shame you are guilty too, of idiocy and flagrant voyeurism at least if nothing else. So next time when you feel like watching this pile of dog shit on TV go to the internet and download a clip of man in leather hitting a tied naked woman with a whip, that is certainly far more real and far less immoral than this stuff on the Telly.

Tender is the night

I wish I there was this one grand love in everybody's life and everyone ended with their one, their soulmate, but alas it doesn't happen.

Love's labour been lost many a time. I left some, some left me, some didn't know I loved them, some never told me they did.

I almost wish it made me a stoic, astute, non believer but unfortunately i'm still a romantic a heart. And I can only wish for them that wherever they are, whether they will ever read this, whether they still like me or despise me they find love. The kind that lasts.

I have got nothing better to do than stay up and think about this. And act upon my Momentary lapse of reason. But I hope you are sleeping well my loves.

Tender is the night and fleetingly soothing is your strain,
But fly away o nightingale for this moon deserves your flame.
Heavy would be my heart and damp my eye for away you I send,
But for my soul I wish it saw one love reach its end.