Pink Floyd - Animals (1977)

I have been ensconced to my bed for the past 48 hours.
Bad case of tonsillitis in a city scared to hell with a possible outbreak of Swine Flu, calls for tough measures. In my case it was an euphemistic house arrest.

The last time I was this irritated was when I was in 3rd grade and was quarantined at home for 3 whole days!

Three whole days of no 'hide-n-seek', 3 whole days of not getting a chance to tease Roh to a near certain death (one head strong fella that guy...he is still alive), 3 whole days of fresh air in the pre-Beyblade era.

And today, a part of me was happy that I could legitimately skip work, but a bigger part of me is ruing not being able to go out in the evening. arrgh!

Only they could see it coming. I wouldn't have expected anyone else to have that great a foresight. A metaphor for something impossible, it has translated today into windfall gains for the N-95 mask makers and the manufacturers of Hand Sanitizer.

Pigs on the wings (Part One) (Waters) 1:24

"If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain
Occasionally glancing up through the rain.
Wondering which of the buggars to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing."

They knew it was coming!!

My only worry is that the next song on the album is "Dogs".

SELF

People are born Selfish. Did I hear you call me a 'cynic'?. But being selfish is being human, ain't it?
And a lot of it resonates from the instincts of survival. So why then is selfish person labeled in a derogatory manner. Every instant of your life is being spent trying to please your warped soul, either mundanely or subconsciously. At the end of this blog I will have posted it to satiate my guilt at some level. And I would have succeeded to a massive extent (since I belong to the lowest of the kind in the human guilt ladder). Selfishness flows from one event to another like Mamta Banerjee and her political manifesto.
But this talk is too intellectual. Coming to more mundane materialistic things, a lot of words and events have stemmed from the self related concept. These words are tied with the essence of selfishness.

'Justification' - Done to defend a well accepted act of retardness you just committed. It could include throwing a dog in the gutter, who bit you because you tried to harass him during his mid road meal.

'Sex' - it is the justification of the urge to excessively spend that which is refurnish-able.

'Beer' - it is sex with Malted Barley and Hops. And some more!

'Wine' - it is the beer of the French who thought 'grape' was French for barley.

Bandra Worli Sea Link - it is the caber(n)et performed to the gallery of the highest bidders in Mumbai

November 26, 2008 - the last pillar of a bridge to crumble which made the superfluously abused term 'Spirit of Mumbai' redundant.

Kheema Pav - a complete but never ending saga which unlike the previous one leaves you on a pleasant note. Eaten to forget about existence.

Drinking and Driving - the meat of discussion at gatherings so as to sound concerned or an anecdotal story of guts and glory. Ame, Llo, Meg and Pun will agree.

Tattoos - a Taboo. some say.

Like I said, the materialistic to the cardinal and the seemingly innocuous are all contained in the Self.

how to avoid being duped.

Get everything on paper. Everything!

'Mega'

I was in two minds whether to go for the Megadeth Concert or not, in Bengaluroo. My first Mind was being rational. I was out of money, I had just returned from the Jungles of Tadoba. I had just spent a lot of money to see a Tiger. My second mind was simply being me. It didn't care about the financials. It didn't care about borrowing money. So as a student of Management, I made the most rational decision.

I went for the Concert!

It started with a 22 hour bus ride. This bus ride was different. It included having a exceptional control on ones bladder, like no other. It required one to eat lunch, dinner in 15 mins flat which included the time to place the order and wait for it. And finally it required immense mental strength to withstand any movie being played in the bus. Other than that, it was smooth ride.

Rah managed to drain out my Zune, even before we entered Karnataka. So I was left with no choice but to watch 'Aap ke Khatir'. It was a movie made to make people hate movies.

After sleeping like a contortionist, we reached Bengalooru at 7 in the morning. And we were taken for a ride right away. Thats one thing I have come to hate about Bengalooru. The rickwallahs seem to be more powerful than the traffic cops. Yeah....Quasi respect is shown to traffic guy, but the rickwallas run the show.

We got into a hotel. I refuse to use adjectives to describe it. Our haggling experts weren't good enough for the determined receptionist of this run down hotel near MG road.

Rah is still not accustomed to thinking logically and expected the service of a 5 star for nugatory room rate we paid. I believe he was in love with the receptionist. He'd call him up for everything. A brush, A toothpaste, a soap bar (A lux bar of specific variety for his skin is second best only to Om Puri's.) A breakfast at 'India Coffee House' prepared us for the onslaught that was the remaining 2 Pan Brothers.

It was time for Stixs, and rationality is smothered when it comes to beer. And this trip was no different. After a blissfull 4 hours of music accompanied by not so great beer, we were perfectly balanced for Mustaines of the world. Or so we thought. We entered the concert 15 mins before the legends took their place. While me, sag and vic decided to enjoy the show from the back, the rest had the alcohol acting in their favour, so they decided to enjoy it from the barricades.
So they began. Caught amidst the Holy Wars, it all seemed a blur. Sau, that bastard again, managed a plectrum of none other than Mustaine himself. We sniffed for one, post the concert, but there were too many losers and not enough plectrums.

A trip back to the hotel wasn't the best but no one complained, for they all knew there was some beer in the waiting at our palatially inadequate rooms. A biopsy of the concert followed. Vic tried to compare the Maidens to the Deths, but his deliberations were squished literally and physically. The next day was to bade goodbye to most of the fuckers...while me sau and sag decided to stick around. Cham suggested this neat place which serves wine. What wine, I hadn't a clue. But the Waiters were careful enough to remind the ladies of the glasses they had downed.

The journey back was in a sleeper coach, which I made complete use of. Slept for 18 of the 23 hours of the bus ride. Felt what it must have been for actors to play the part of a dead guy in a casket. (the mob movies). The sleep was interspersed with a verbal brawls, with none other than sag. Not much to say about the journey back, except I was smart enough to drain out the Zune for my own pleasure in the first 3 hours of the journey.

And so we arrived to the filth and open exhibition of excretal disposition.

One hell of a trip. Though Maiden was better.

I need....

I need a smoke. My hand moves towards the warm cup of tea as I sit in front of my lousy desktop. The key board is screwed, takes effort to punch in letters, so much so, that it derails my train of thought. In the background, 'Velvet Revolver' is belting out a classic on my outdated Winamp. A ruffled crow sits on the windowsill vigorously trying to get rid of the rain in his feathers. he looks at me with pity, I wonder why? Hes scavenged hard for slice of dead meat today, and there I lay, in front of him, sipping tea that tastes of everything but the effort that went into making it.

I need to do something. I look at the watch, its quarter past 12. I have practically wasted the entire morning. I have so much to do. My blogs been idle for a while, my drawer needs to be fumigated for the crap, which has been lying there for eons now. Life is moving fast.

I need to speak to someone. She hasn't called. She said she would. Maybe she's been busy. I need to give people their space. Everyone is not as wasted as I am. Or has my mobile battery died. Over the past months I have found solace amidst this seemingly mundane life in her and cricket. But then again, both of them don't go together.....kinda like the same poles. College life seems a blur, get up everyday at 6.40 am come back at 9.30 pm.....life's been good, except for the siesta I miss everyday . However, I do manage to sneak in some sleep in the college library.

I need to eat something. I think I will cook today. Haven't had kheema pav in a long time. Or should I place an order. Can't decide.

I need to change and do something about my "talking on the phone" manners. I can't seem to speak on the phone for more than 5 mins and 28 seconds. Don't know why. The moment I say those dreaded words " and tell me, hows life", I know I need to hang up. Some of them are pissed about this behavior of mine, however they have no clue how much crap they are being saved of. It makes me realize that people truly don't value good things in life.

I need to pause before I open my mouth and abuse. I might just end up regretting it for the rest of my life.

I am bored........I need a nap....

12/3

".....The trail was about a mountain of detonated RDX:
to our shame we reduced it to the level of unused gun."

- Bachi Karkaria

of 'kings' and 'ox tongues'

I have been asked by some quarters of my college audience to look at the bigger picture, and not stick to stories pertaining to the microcosmic scenarios.

well, I will just leave the bigger picture for the erudite lot. I live upto my blogs name, as I update it, only when I have nothing worthwhile to do.

I seem to be out of ideas to dole out for the expecting lot who wait for an update on my blog just as eagerly as people do to hear Rakhi Sawant talk. I guess I am at the world's end when it comes to writing blogs.

For inspiration I visit some brilliant blogs, like those by nandan and chamko.

Just got back from a trip to Goa, laughed at by some for planning on Goa in the rains. But the weather was amazing and so was the Konkan Shoreline. so Screw you all who mocked me.

Konkan is, I believe is lost amidst the now mundane Lonavla and Khandala and Mahabaleshwar. But it's better that way, lest you know that DLF builds another freaking mall by the Sindhudurg fort, with basement parking.
Like my colleague at work (summer internship) once said, "DLF has ma(u)led Gurgaon."

Anyways coming back to Goa, that place has a charm of its own.

The narrow roads are the ones which hit me the most (third only to cheap booze and gorgeous dreadlocked chicks). The goans navigate on those with ease, and somehow even the outsiders drive like pro's on them. Maybe it has something to do with the abysmally low number of rickwallahs from the land of mulayam and maya and not to forget the yadav dude.

The food is not the topmost thing on your mind, when you down pintsssss of kings (which for the record costs less than Rs.20/-).......but Infanteria is the place to be.
Tried the Ox Tongue for the first time. Ame and lly relished it as well. Though Bee, Shr, Kun and Aks were busy pretending to be oblivious to our gourmet meal.

Also learnt on this trip to always look at the person pouring the vodka shots with suspicion, for he might fill his glass with water; else its advisable to stick to rum.

Now I am back in Mumbai, lost amidst the fucked up ricks, crowded buses and costly bottles of beer.

Past week seems a phantasm!

Colours

Sunday,I hoped, would turn out to be what they are actually meant for.....relaxation.
However, a call from certain Dhi, asked me get ready for a "sheild" match, against Mhada XI. (In sheild matches, ill informed captains, who are of the opinion that theirs is the best team in the vicinity, lay bets)

We are talking under arm cricket here, played in any open patch of land found in this city, where an inch of space on the asphalt goes for astronomical sums.

Just to satisfy my battered ego, about my cricketing prowess, I agreed (though I'd make it a point to ponder over my any decisions for a tad longer, henceforth). Now MHADA XI ain't the most sophisticated of teams, but they are professionals when it comes to playing the game in closed small spaces. Thats their sunday bread and butter, so one isn't surprised, if they are more aggressive than what is called for on a sunday afternoon.

The Venture Capitalists might laugh at a paltry sum of Rs. 150 per series (series comprises of 3 matches of 5 overs each), but its about respect! and thats what we play for, not to mention free pepsi.

We were leading half way through the series. I was fielding at the boundary, when the ball ended up in the compound behind the ground. Was looking out for any human souls in that compound, who could fetch it for us. A trip to the compound via the conventional route would have delayed the game. Finally I managed to induce 3 three year olds to fetch the tennis ball for me, while I stood on the fence and guided them.

They were extremely thrilled that one of the elder dudes(hehe) had asked for help, and looked at it as a mission. " Lets search for it" they all screamed in unison and off they went to search for the elusive game stopper. It was funny to see them search for it. I thought i'd help them, so told them it a tennis ball and its green in colour. "Its a tennis ball and its green" they yelled again, as if to check if all were on the same wavelength. (management education, especially teamwork, these days has permeated even the kindergardens).

A good 7 mins later, they were still searching, and I began to wonder if they knew what they were searching for.

Maybe they weren't big enought to have seen a tennis bal before, so I asked them, " you know which colour the ball is.....right?".

They were all yelled in affirmative again and the eldest of the lot pointed to a spanking new SILVER santro!!!!!

Dhi yelled, as to why I was taking so long to get people to search for a tennis ball.

How could I explain my folly to him, of engaging a search party of toddlers, who were yet to see the different colours of life?

the Run and the Cricket

Mumbai Marathon was a disaster for me, though the visit to the venue was worthwhile. The energy levels are to be witnessed and can't be spoken of, as so many of our superfluous news channels have stated. We were supposed to be volunteers for the wheel chair event (running for the society for the paraplegic : Nina Foundation). Well, after the initial photo sessions, we were stranded as the organisers just permitted one attendee per wheel chair. Some people got through the 'Dream' run however they ended up walking the stretch, as free space on the asphalt was hard to come by.

So I backed out of the 'Dream Run', and so did Am, Roh and Rej. I suggested Kyani near Metro and the Kheema Pav there made me take an oath of never suggesting a place again. Its better to follow someone else's suggestion of a restaurant and then abuse him if at all the food sucks.
The kheema did taste like dog meat. More like a dog who didn't bathe....ever!

The event looked more fun on TV. And then I consoled myself, by repeating that paying the fees and then running was akin to paying the bill and cooking the food yourself. It helped.

Watching Mumbai beat the opposition black and blue in the Ranji Trophy has made the last week look roseate. Having been brought up to the stories of the domestic invincible, the respect levels are right up there. Some of them, who started with me, are today rubbing shoulders with the greats of cricketing glory. If only, had some one told me that Batman wasn't for real, I would have set myself some realistic ambitions. (its a different thing that i would have still screwed up...)

But you realise such things only when it's too late, or you think its too late because you are in no mood to go and correct the earlier wrongs of life.
Laziness is the justified rationalisation of the individuals urge to procrastinate the future glory that befits us to avoid the difficult things of today.

But right now, I would have been happy if only I were able to watch cricket on Television, but for the screwed up cable guy, who opined that Ekta Kapoor serials were of more importance to the national interest.

not just Jazz

My first brush with Jazz.....wont be my last.

Sounded good to a tone deaf person like me. While to the "about-to-turn-pro's" like hars, made them realise where the benchmarks lie....

powers that be

A pressing need of a human being with my type of DNA setup will be to earn money and ample of it to fund monthly trips to the Bahamas (Goa is passé). It is an innocuous wish, and still the heavens above refuse to oblige and I dont see any good reason in sight for them to do so. Infact the trip will help everyone immensely. I will be purchasing things in Bahamas which will help them raise their GDP. I will be taking money out of india leaving less chance of corruption amongst those wily bastards here, and most importantly ladies there will get to see me. So it's a win-win situation for all.

But then again such wishes are never fulfilled. I wonder why.

The politicians seem to be doing something right. And only they seem to know what it is.
Maybe its producing 11 children, or blatant lying in front of cameras or throwing tantrums that might put a child in a crib to shame, which releases the secret powers that be, and shine on these bastards and how.

I have begun searching for these powers myself. Yoga hasn't helped me so far, as chanting "today is a great day" has done nothing but spoilt my day, (a certain accounting lec notwithstanding). Breathing In and Breathing Out just aggravated my sinus cavity. Stretching my limbs has made me more prone to cramps then ever before and Yoga doesn't have any cure for Hangover!!!

Psychiatric Sessions called GROWEL, suggested carrying stones in my pocket and christening them, "gratitude" would attract these seemingly ubiquitous powers to me. They did attract the powers that be in Mumbai, the Riot Police, who thought i was on my way to some mischief and my long hair didn't help me convince my innocence (now now....it sure is a possibilty).

Somebody suggested reading was a great way to find the way to make the the universe smile on you, and I almost fell for it. Paulo Coelho's "Alchemist" made me realise that, that certain person was lying.

I gave up, and but then someone suggested Beer.....and did it work and how!!!
Post the 4th bottle of Beer (the big one, no pints here and these figures might vary from person to person), one will notice that everyone around has a smile on their faces and becomes extra courteous. They ask you for some more beer, and you invariably say ay'ay.... and then there are some more smiles.......and then some more. And these smiles are a precursor to some goodluck in the future albeit the bill might make you think otherwise.

Cheer(s)ful disposition, aint it!!!

p s: Thesaurus defines 'grovel' as ," to lie or crawl with the face downward and the body prostrate, esp. in abject humility, fear, etc."

flaws

I am done with my first trimester in college......have 5 more to go.
The exams were pretty ok.....though the paper timings sucked bigtime. The fundamental reason of making students take the exams is to check their proficiency in mugging stuff after having done nothing in the preceding 3 months.

Then one would argue, why.....for the love of god, why would they want us to take the paper at 2 in the afternoon, when there has been a Nobel price in Economics given for study on " Post Lunch Inefficiency". Don't ask me which year.

And to top it all, we have air conditioned classrooms. The entire concept is flawed. But then what isn't in India.

They have been talking about the death penalty meted out to Afzal Guru. Personally i think that a death penalty in this case would not act as a deterrent, infact it might result in a park being named in his name or worse his statue might be erected, a reminder to his undiluted love for his cause. But the hardliners might not favour a verdict less than a death penalty.

Rahul Bose, on the other hand, argued on a Television show that human beings cannot confer the death penalty as it was god who gave us life and he alone has the right to take it away. Well, one should just check with Mr. Bose if he is for legalisation of Abortion or against it. I guess he prefers the former.

The human rights chaps, with their pseudo job profiles, are creating a ruckus for all the wrong reasons. I do agree about the clemency part, but not from the humanistic point of view.

Had such kind of an act taken place in an Arab country, under the Shariat law this would have been an open and shut case, then why are people asking from leniency here.

Uniform Civil Code anyone?

Sleep

No matter how hard I try, I never reach my college on time.
It's got something to do with the traffic levels in Mumbai, but I am yet to figure what it is exactly. Maybe I can just forget about it thinking that the fucked up politicians are responsible for it. On the face of it, this excuse does seem valid and the best option to hide my incompetence of adhering to the alarm clock.
You may ask, "How can a Minister who resides in the South Mumbai, commuting with a cavalcade of 15 cars be responsible for my delay????".
Well u surely haven't read of the butterfly effect.

The doors always locked when i reach the classroom, but I have some loyals who stand by the, "Sleep is God" adage. But we are outnumbered by the rest of principled population of the class..........damn it

Well it doesn't end there. Once I enter the almost over lecture, gods of sleep reappear, and being the religious kind, I have to oblige. So much for an MBA education.
I might write a book on "101 ways to sleep undetected", but haven't commenced lest they'd accuse me of killing the will to live amongst the alive.

I catch a bus, as trains don't alloy me to sleep for more than 10 mins at a stretch.
Old people getting onto a bus are a cause for concern, as offering seat to them becomes mandatory and it pains when you have just paid a bomb for an AC bus ticket. So Zaf and I have devised this unique systems of pretending to sleep when the oldies get on. Has worked splendidly, till now.

enough crap, now I need to sleep.

Man and the dog.

ok...I agree its been ages since I wrote something worthwhile (worthwhile...hehehehe)...but I have had my reasons. For starters, a screwed up comp at home does'nt help. No amount of indoctrination on the institutes part(doing my pg from Welingkar) to have the celestial initiative orientation can remove a guy like me from my reverential stupor, and get hold of a mechanic who can fix my freaking machine.

And then traveling to college is a pain. Now now, dont get me wrong...have been travelling on my own for a good decade and a half, but with every passing day, the number of people on the streets of mumbai seem to multiply three folds, especially since the past couple of months. The 11/7 blasts (I refuse to call them the 7/11 attacks) magnified the plight of this neglected city, but to no avail.

The thick skinned bastards sitting at Mantralay, don't care a shit about the beautiful city. None of the Peoples representatives from Mumbai opened their stinking mouth to voice the problems of this once beautiful city, in the parliament session. They said it was a collective decision on part of their party to discuss the broad terrorism issue, and not to restrict it to Mumbai.

I am not for any particular party. But there seems to be no one to to stand up for this city. I don't know where we are heading....if at all we are moving in any direction. This city has come to a standstill. Beginning to hate this city, beginning to hate my hometown.

The Shabana's give out a deafening shrill everytime the government tries to clear the slums, the Maneka's start barking when the BMC tries to sterlize the stray canines. They say they love humans and dogs respectively. Haha.

But they are more than prepared to see them living in the current squalor. Trust me when I say this, but the dogs prefer euthanasia to being run over by cars or worse, pelted to death. The Shabana's with their populist stand are encouraging the drought prone farmers to occupy our last remaining footpaths.

The former might be eyeing the votebank, but someone please text Maneka that dogs are yet to get a voting right.

Back to school

I don't know much about world cup, however I end up supporting Italy all the time. But limited knowledge hinders me from having a full fledged verbal discussion, which as a result generally end in low intensity fist fights.

Surprisingly, since I represent conventional Italian traditions just as much as Karan Johar represents Mans World Magazine, i cannot help but marvel at how irrelevant things can send the adrenaline rushing.
I say irrelevant because football in Mumbai has been eclipsed by cricket from the outset. That might not be the case today thanks to the influx of multiple media channels, but football in Mumbai has been restricted to Orlem, IC Colony and South Mumbai for most of the past century.

Still that won't stop me from watching a match on large screen and cheering any team. Italy is in the semi-finals and i sincerely hope that those rascist-neo-nazi-bastards are beaten convincingly by the azzuris.

World -cup aint the only big thing happening in my life right now. Got through Welingkar Institute of Management Development and Research, my home for the next 730 days.
Back to studying after a 2 year sabbatical. It sure is fun but staying awake for the post lunch session is the most difficult thing in the world, second only to the getting down at Andheri Station in a Virar Fast train. Traveling is a pain, though i am getting used to the art of self-flaggelation.

We had a Lecture by Capt. Raghu Raman on Leadership Skills. One of the best lectures i have sat for, notwitstanding the limited number of lectures i have attended. By the end of his presentation, most of us were in awe of that man's flamboyant speech marked with stories of hardship at the Siachen Glacier. Letters are the only respite our soldiers have in a place which can be rightly termed, "Hell at its Coldest".

Below is the address where one can post them.
Letters sent to this address are read out to the Jawans.

To, Officers and Men of Siachen Brigade
Cdr 102 Inf Bde
c/o 56 APO

the week after 'this week'

Well nothing worthwhile has been happening in my penury inflicted life.
Except for some beer sessions paid by my citi card, which is due to be confiscated in the not so distant future, owing to the minimum balance criteria hurled by those capitalist bastards.

Luckily there ain't a dearth of banks, waiting for irresponsibly ethically inclined prospective clients like me.


X-Men 3 was good, especially when Mystique transforms into her true self. Rebecccaaaaaaa.
Though they shouldn't have shown the Superman trailer before the movie, it kind of took away the punch from X-Men. Still Mystique saved the day.

Cricket saved me from boredom on the other days. The fun element of playing it on 14th Road cannot be approximated in words, leave alone the wonderful things who trudge by, under the "getting a hair cut from JUICE saloon" alibi.

Saur sucks in the field, not to forget the other vocations in Cricket(Batting/Bowling), but then we also have Dosh, who makes Saur look like the legendary E.Solkar at short leg.
Losing didn't hurt as much as having Dosh in our team did.
Classic example of the feeble becoming a liability.

So with all this happening, one would say I am being too harsh on life.
Cricket and Beer, for a guy would be next only to a strip club with no entry fee (if there ever existed such a paradise).

?....hmmm

Anyways, its raining as I type this, and half of Mumbai's population is home. Shop Shutters are down and the density of populace per square yards had dwindled conspicuously.

Hail Mumbai.

this week

As I lay here in a cyber cafe, trying hard to be oblivious to himmesh reshammiya's blaring nasal cries....aarrgghhhhhhh.......I cannot help but realise how a fucked up singer can make a nation dance to his tune.

I am beggarly sounding singer myself, still I do realise that one has to use his throat to sing...and not the nasal cavity. They do say, great singer sing from their heart, but nostrils?...that's goin a bit too far.

Yeah yeah....the tune and shit might be good for his supporters....but it is made void by voice which sounds like a drowning ogre.

My comps developed a rare disease which requires it to be split open by an engineer every 2 months. If that's not all, it also need a transplant, now and then, which explains the cyber.

Found a baby squirrel (Zakk) the other day, the dude was all alone in his nest, which came down with a chopped tree. So took the poor fellow home. Was a scaled down version of a grown up squirrel, but was still in the crawling stage.
Tried calling the SPCA, who asked me to deliver it to their facility near KEM hospital. Decided against giving it there, for the name KEM sent chills down my spine. It's a place where they discount a human life. So going by the logical conclusion, a place abutting KEM wouldn't be much different ideologically.
I might not be giving SPCA their due credit, but the baby was too adorable for me to take any chances.(Mumbai heat and the train travel aswell)

The dude relished Milkmaid and nothing else, and I found a home for it the very next day.

An agency in Andheri, (Karuna), refused looking after just one squirrel. So much for social work.
Those pseudo animal lovers.

And finally, Shar was the lucky one, who got peed on, by Zakk.

once was Bombay

The long weekend made me realise how it would feel to be wasted once again......and how I still relish being wasted.

Bawi, gave me 2 books to read and took back one under the pretext of her upcoming MCom exams. So I was left with, 'Once was Bombay' - by Priti Virani.

The books talks about this great city, and the innumerable problems it now faces. No economically inclined talks here, No check on the profanity either....
.... just a mention of the people who truly capture the hues that this city has been painted in.

22 years spent in this city, has made me oblivious to its problems.
Mumbai or Bombay is still where the heart lies, notwithstanding the 50000 odd villages and its villagers from the north who have migrated here (and are still migrating), thanks to a gentleman named Kripashankar and his likes.

Well, coming back to the book, it's as blunt and straightforward as the mutton knife I use.
The author has covered in great details the smaller aspects of this megapolis, and the beginning of its, not so distant, end.
The accomplished underworld, the remorseless police force, the insatiable politicians, the riots, the Page 3 cliques, bollywood, sex, drugs, violence, everyone has been dedicated with a chapter here.

Interviews with the first don of Mumbai, Karim Lala and his rivalry with the then upcoming star, a certain "Dawood Ibrahim Kaskar" is a slap on the face of people who thought, "underworld doesnt function this way".

The author has spared none of the hypocrites, and the subtle references to our socialites, just warns us how deep the abyss really goes, in this glamour hungry city.

A good read, though it might sound a bit sectarian at times.
The book will bowl you over with a piece on the city's resilient nature, and at the very next instance, warn us about the inevitable demise that awaits us.

Would make a true hardcore Mumbaite realise, that this aint the golden city it used to be.

lady love

How much I miss those legs........full of lust for the forever hungry.
Those breasts....always inviting....soft and succulent as ever.
Never fancied nibbling her neck, not out of fear of a hicky, but just didn't like the feel of it.

How much I miss her......Lord. Why, why did you have to take her away?

She was always cheerful, even after knowing that she had to go one day...one day soon.
But no one ever imagined, that she would have to go in such a humiliating manner, without appeasing the urges of mortals like me.

I still remember how happy I was the other day, on my way back from office.
The banal time I spend in the train was for once passing away at the speed of knots, for I was busy thinking about her legs. Those legs ...the ones I'd die for.

And then I got the news.....I could not have her, she wasnt meant for me...for she was diagnosed with a deadly fever which would keep her away from me.

How can I stay away from her?

After years of knowing her, she cannot go away just like that, overnight.

I tried to erase her from my limited memories and went about looking for other pretty things,
but it was inevitable. My mind kept thinking about her.

I blame my friends from China for her death. They started it all. And now i have to suffer. Talk about injustice!
My friends there, have a lot on their palette, unlike me. They stole the only thing i loved.

I can't take it any more. She will be mine again, and soon.






Screw the bird flu, i am having Chicken again!

bengalooru

Just back from Bangalore.....or was it bengalooru. i wouldnt have cared less. The building arent that high, and cast no shadows on the sesame street sized roads.
To borrow words of Jug Suraiya, 'its a small town dressed in a city's overcoat'. Its green ok.....a relief from the mundane grey of Mumbai. The public transport sucks, and i have the highest respect for the postal employees there.

Ninth block, 11th main, 9th cross, door no 121.
Its worse than searching for a cricketer in his all whites at a hindu funeral.

'Bomanahalli Circle' i said at the prepaid rickshaw counter, Bangalore Airport.
'Rs.150 sar, won ana haalf, after 9 na'. Wo KK , when you cant speak Kannada, its a bargain.
After 35 mins of enduirng a G-Force of 7.5 g, i reached my intended place of stay.

The weather was amazing, surprised Shrdh, who by the way has an amazing place there, which were the only saving graces of my trip.
The intended reason for travel didnt materialise, as the interview panel managed to grill me on something i should'nt have said. The altercation with the rick-wallah has left a sour taste, the flavours of which still make their presence felt from time to time. After 5 days was back in Mumbai and boy, was i glad.

Whatever its called, i am glad to be back in mumbai.
Am too attached to the filth around here, the beggars with an attitude,
not to forget the rickwallas who sit on the freaking edge of their seat, leaving enough space for 2 well fed aunties to play garba.

As of now, i still love this garbage dump of mine.