Scams of epic proportions in India,
Silence and then much noise on matters Radia.
Apple ne humko iPad diya.
And that Kalmadi fellow, he made lakhs ya.
Arundathi put the sexy into secede,
We saw Ayodhya play it safe and proceed,
Then Obama graced us with his presence,
As Nithyananda seduced people with incense
And the Pope fought issues with nonsense.
We were left wondering,
As we confused causation with correlation,
Do we call the rich man 'king'?
Or is the richest man called Raja, by conflation.
Oh yeah, and we also had serious inflation.
Somehow we still completed the CWG,
And before that, the DLF IPL 3.
But in neither case was the follow-up very good,
Suresh and Shashi were not sufficiently screwed.
Manmohan Singh just nodded his head and stood.
Sachin's run machine was at its strongest ever,
And the world came down with World Cup fever,
There once was a dog called Spot,
And just for fixing it, poor Pakistan were caught.
Again Manmohan did nought.
The Indian blogosphere scales new heights,
As rameshsrivats puns and krishashok writes.
(Heck, the latter even has soundbytes.)
We can now make any topic trend,
And even break media silence in the end.
Assange's leaks made headlines everywhere,
For top secret documents and then for a condom tear.
If you're leaking, you might as well leak some runs,
And give Sachin half a ton of tons.
And so 2010 is done.
If only 2011 is half as much fun.
Because anyway in 2012, we're all done.
Happy MMXI everyone.
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Friday, December 31
Friday, December 3
Radia silence
You will notice that there was considerable silence about the Barkha Dutt - Radia tapes controversy on this blog. That's because there's been a general silence on this blog.
That notwithstanding, Barkha Dutt made a big mistake she can't deny - she lied (either on the tapes or in her apology). So of course, it comes across that she was ready to mediate between the Congress and the DMK. And what is the best way to counter any kind of recorded evidence but to say, "I lied"?
At the same time, it does come across from NDTV's coverage (or the part that was in the debate anyway)that she was actually using the information to report news. So my take is that she, in all likelihood, WAS lying to Niira of many circles. (Radia, circles... - clever, huh?)
So now after Barkha's admission and general evidence that her role in cabinet selection was non-existent, the best Manu Joseph can come up with is, 'You didn't publish a story' and the eloquent, 'You're not answering the question!'
That is why children are told: "Don't tell lies." It generally creates all kinds of messes.
PS: Vir bad-teeth Sanghvi, on the other hand, should rename Counterpoint to Copy-Paste.
That notwithstanding, Barkha Dutt made a big mistake she can't deny - she lied (either on the tapes or in her apology). So of course, it comes across that she was ready to mediate between the Congress and the DMK. And what is the best way to counter any kind of recorded evidence but to say, "I lied"?
At the same time, it does come across from NDTV's coverage (or the part that was in the debate anyway)that she was actually using the information to report news. So my take is that she, in all likelihood, WAS lying to Niira of many circles. (Radia, circles... - clever, huh?)
So now after Barkha's admission and general evidence that her role in cabinet selection was non-existent, the best Manu Joseph can come up with is, 'You didn't publish a story' and the eloquent, 'You're not answering the question!'
That is why children are told: "Don't tell lies." It generally creates all kinds of messes.
PS: Vir bad-teeth Sanghvi, on the other hand, should rename Counterpoint to Copy-Paste.
Monday, September 20
Why 'Machete' works
This piece was first published on Yahoo Fit to Post here.
What can you say about a movie whose most important elements are nudity, gore, over-the-top lines and humor as subtle as its title? Well, what else except – Robert Rodriquez, thanks for making Machete – a movie that goes well with beer and the company of my fellow male friends.
I would label this write-up as a spoiler alert, but then the plot isn’t exactly the most interesting bit about the movie. In fact, for a movie like Machete that thrives on compromising believability for coolness, stretched plot elements comfortably sneak in unnoticed under the already raised threshold of suspended belief. So if you don’t want to hear plot elements and dialogues from the movie, stop reading right now.
See? I knew you couldn’t resist. To put it succinctly, this movie is about a political ploy of a crooked politician financed by a Mexican druglord that aims to build an electrified fence on the American border with Mexico so that said druglord can be in complete control of the supply of illegal labour.
Incongruity is at the heart of all the funny moments in Machete. Things that are too neat, out of place or of the wrong size are cues for laugh-out-loud moments. This is evident when you get a bad-ass macho guy refer to himself in the third person to explain his unfamiliarity with technology with a line like, “Machete don’t text”. This humor device re-occurs when you see a priest who neatly labels reports and recordings of his confessions, the bad guy who encrypts his files with a password that reveals he is in love with his daughter and a white kid who oddly resembles Eminem fights for the Mexicans because he is Mexican by adoption.
Machete isn’t the most intellectually challenging movie you’ve ever seen, I’m sure that much is clear even without seeing the trailer. You go to such a movie to forget about your hard day at work, you go for getting guy-time, you go for everything a typical man’s chick flick (credit: someone on Twitter who I can’t remember) offers you. Machete is the retro man’s 007 – he sleeps with many women in the movie including Lindsay Lohan’s and her mom’s characters (at the same time). Lindsay Lohan, who for the majority of the movie is dressed in her birthday suit or a nun’s habit incidentally doesn’t seem to realize that the role pokes fun at her real self. She plays a rich, spoilt drug addict. Robert de Niro plays a politician so crooked that you enjoy him being shot at as he is being electrocuted. Steven Seagal who plays, of all things, a Mexican druglord is dressed in a way that makes him look oddly pear-shaped, but then you feel that this is probably because it made it easier to shoot the scene in the end where he turns the blade lodged in his abdomen and twists it. The inimitable Danny Trejo, of course had to be the only choice for Machete after he played the character in a fake trailer from the Rodriguez-Tarantino ‘Grindhouse’. He acts with a stony face and mutilates without mercy.
So kick back, open a beer, be prepared for cheesy lines like, “We didn’t cross the border, the border crossed us”; laugh out loud when the protagonist has sex with the bad guy’s wife and daughter; smile when the burly hero uses his podgy fingers to send out a text, soak in the cool as the many shapes and varieties of Machete’s blade cut through skin, flesh and bone, and applaud when Machete uses a human intestine as an escape rope.
The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, and neither should you. Oh, and don’t take your wife* along.
*I apologise for stereotyping wives as women not liking mindless gore and nude threesomes including Lindsay Lohan, but it was just convenient for this piece.
What can you say about a movie whose most important elements are nudity, gore, over-the-top lines and humor as subtle as its title? Well, what else except – Robert Rodriquez, thanks for making Machete – a movie that goes well with beer and the company of my fellow male friends.
I would label this write-up as a spoiler alert, but then the plot isn’t exactly the most interesting bit about the movie. In fact, for a movie like Machete that thrives on compromising believability for coolness, stretched plot elements comfortably sneak in unnoticed under the already raised threshold of suspended belief. So if you don’t want to hear plot elements and dialogues from the movie, stop reading right now.
See? I knew you couldn’t resist. To put it succinctly, this movie is about a political ploy of a crooked politician financed by a Mexican druglord that aims to build an electrified fence on the American border with Mexico so that said druglord can be in complete control of the supply of illegal labour.
Incongruity is at the heart of all the funny moments in Machete. Things that are too neat, out of place or of the wrong size are cues for laugh-out-loud moments. This is evident when you get a bad-ass macho guy refer to himself in the third person to explain his unfamiliarity with technology with a line like, “Machete don’t text”. This humor device re-occurs when you see a priest who neatly labels reports and recordings of his confessions, the bad guy who encrypts his files with a password that reveals he is in love with his daughter and a white kid who oddly resembles Eminem fights for the Mexicans because he is Mexican by adoption.
Machete isn’t the most intellectually challenging movie you’ve ever seen, I’m sure that much is clear even without seeing the trailer. You go to such a movie to forget about your hard day at work, you go for getting guy-time, you go for everything a typical man’s chick flick (credit: someone on Twitter who I can’t remember) offers you. Machete is the retro man’s 007 – he sleeps with many women in the movie including Lindsay Lohan’s and her mom’s characters (at the same time). Lindsay Lohan, who for the majority of the movie is dressed in her birthday suit or a nun’s habit incidentally doesn’t seem to realize that the role pokes fun at her real self. She plays a rich, spoilt drug addict. Robert de Niro plays a politician so crooked that you enjoy him being shot at as he is being electrocuted. Steven Seagal who plays, of all things, a Mexican druglord is dressed in a way that makes him look oddly pear-shaped, but then you feel that this is probably because it made it easier to shoot the scene in the end where he turns the blade lodged in his abdomen and twists it. The inimitable Danny Trejo, of course had to be the only choice for Machete after he played the character in a fake trailer from the Rodriguez-Tarantino ‘Grindhouse’. He acts with a stony face and mutilates without mercy.
So kick back, open a beer, be prepared for cheesy lines like, “We didn’t cross the border, the border crossed us”; laugh out loud when the protagonist has sex with the bad guy’s wife and daughter; smile when the burly hero uses his podgy fingers to send out a text, soak in the cool as the many shapes and varieties of Machete’s blade cut through skin, flesh and bone, and applaud when Machete uses a human intestine as an escape rope.
The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, and neither should you. Oh, and don’t take your wife* along.
*I apologise for stereotyping wives as women not liking mindless gore and nude threesomes including Lindsay Lohan, but it was just convenient for this piece.
Sunday, August 1
Showing respect to families
So the UK has put in place a ban on mini-skirts for customer facing roles. A quote:
My psychic powers sense an internet campaign coming up. #shortskirtquake anyone?
Women can wear trousers, informal dresses or skirts of "reasonable" length, but "not mini-skirts".It's a little relieving to know that we are not the only weird society in the world. I wonder what will happen when the daughters of the families in question come dressed in mini-skirts; will the families be sent back because they're not respecting themselves?
"Please try to dress smartly and thoughtfully, in line with other professionals you come across in your day-to-day work, and in a way that shows respect to children and families ," it said.
My psychic powers sense an internet campaign coming up. #shortskirtquake anyone?
Thursday, July 29
Burn, Bedi burn! Flames-a-get-a-higher.
It's the equivalent of two children going:
"You stole my mucus ball."
"No you gave it to me."
"Who gives away a mucus ball?"
I really think BS Bedi (another brilliant abbreviation) is the one who deserves a full toss on the balls. And I don't mean slow left arm flighted deliveries either. He's one of those irritating people who gets his kicks out of calling others names and such; he had this coming to him.
The worst part, of course, is non-entities like Maninder Singh chiming in. Supposed to be the heir to BSB, he only had the hair of BSB and his claim to fame was being responsible for India tying a winning test match. He's so much better off being in the news for 'accidentally' attempting suicide.
And before I end, the J-Rod links the best in this post to the best. The man is quite random, and you must follow him on Twitter for unadulterated cricket fun.
Wednesday, June 2
The straight, single Indian man and Bipasha Basu's boobage
I am a straight Indian man, lucky enough to have a great wife who loves me. But I know numerous other dudes who have recently been finding the going a little tough. They are constantly being maligned by the women of my country. So today I write a plea on their behalf.
Dear Indian woman, why do you snub us so? Is it because we don't make outlandish gestures such as this when we want to marry you? Anyone can organize a bunch of dancers, but if you asked that guy, he would agree that much more courage is required in getting his parents to talk to her parents. And let's face it, if you were that chick in the park, you would have said, "I need to ask my grandmother" instead of saying yes. Imagine the embarrassment you would have faced. Moreover, if it was close to Valentine's day, we would just be putting you in mortal danger with a bunch of sena / sene 's hovering in the area. We care more about your life than some stupid romantic gesture. We are practical like that.
Or do you snub us because we have small penises? (Note: here I can speak only of averages). But really now, it's not the size, it's how you use it (and it wasn't even us who came up with that line). And boy, do we USE it. After the Chinese, we have the most documented success with it. First we practice alone for years. Then when the time comes, we don't use it selfishly only to please the parties involved, but the results of our efforts please our uncles, aunts, distant cousins, passed on ancestors and parents - on both sides. That's got to count for something, right? And all this culture compliance in a matter of minutes. You'd be a fool to label these qualities as shortcomings. In the traditional sense of the word anyway.
If your complaint is about our moobs, let us explain. We make the sacrifice of cultivating those because we want you to experience pleasures from both sides of the fence. So many qualities in one partner that you never feel like you are missing something. We are the only men who actually give up our bodies for their women. Why mock us for something so benevolent?
So why do you snub us? Especially Indian women like Sania Mirza who goes off to marry a Pakistani cricketer when India has so many mooby ones of its own? And Bipasha Basu whose first topless appearance in an ad was for New York Lotto. Seriously, what's up with that? Why not for Gujarat tourism? What is wrong with honest, vegetarian, teetotaling businessmen? Or you could have lent your boobage to the campaign for 'God's own country'. The foreigners would have come flooding for Ayurvedic massages of all kinds. You could have helped your country. But no, you chose to reveal in an ad for the lottery of a city which already has a TV series that equates its name with the act of sex. Good job Bips. You're going to stand out like hay in a haystack.
Therefore dear women of India, I urge you to be a little more understanding. There are many eligible single Indian men out there, and not all of them are only interested in your fraandship. Seek and you shall find a wonderful man whose flaws you can look past. Our hope be with you.
(Proposal and NY Lotto ad links from Gautam John's Twitter feed which really has much more interesting stuff than this post suggests.)
Dear Indian woman, why do you snub us so? Is it because we don't make outlandish gestures such as this when we want to marry you? Anyone can organize a bunch of dancers, but if you asked that guy, he would agree that much more courage is required in getting his parents to talk to her parents. And let's face it, if you were that chick in the park, you would have said, "I need to ask my grandmother" instead of saying yes. Imagine the embarrassment you would have faced. Moreover, if it was close to Valentine's day, we would just be putting you in mortal danger with a bunch of sena / sene 's hovering in the area. We care more about your life than some stupid romantic gesture. We are practical like that.
Or do you snub us because we have small penises? (Note: here I can speak only of averages). But really now, it's not the size, it's how you use it (and it wasn't even us who came up with that line). And boy, do we USE it. After the Chinese, we have the most documented success with it. First we practice alone for years. Then when the time comes, we don't use it selfishly only to please the parties involved, but the results of our efforts please our uncles, aunts, distant cousins, passed on ancestors and parents - on both sides. That's got to count for something, right? And all this culture compliance in a matter of minutes. You'd be a fool to label these qualities as shortcomings. In the traditional sense of the word anyway.
If your complaint is about our moobs, let us explain. We make the sacrifice of cultivating those because we want you to experience pleasures from both sides of the fence. So many qualities in one partner that you never feel like you are missing something. We are the only men who actually give up our bodies for their women. Why mock us for something so benevolent?
So why do you snub us? Especially Indian women like Sania Mirza who goes off to marry a Pakistani cricketer when India has so many mooby ones of its own? And Bipasha Basu whose first topless appearance in an ad was for New York Lotto. Seriously, what's up with that? Why not for Gujarat tourism? What is wrong with honest, vegetarian, teetotaling businessmen? Or you could have lent your boobage to the campaign for 'God's own country'. The foreigners would have come flooding for Ayurvedic massages of all kinds. You could have helped your country. But no, you chose to reveal in an ad for the lottery of a city which already has a TV series that equates its name with the act of sex. Good job Bips. You're going to stand out like hay in a haystack.
Therefore dear women of India, I urge you to be a little more understanding. There are many eligible single Indian men out there, and not all of them are only interested in your fraandship. Seek and you shall find a wonderful man whose flaws you can look past. Our hope be with you.
(Proposal and NY Lotto ad links from Gautam John's Twitter feed which really has much more interesting stuff than this post suggests.)
Friday, March 19
Good news, bad news
Recently, there's a forward that's been going around that has a British journalist waxing eloquent about India based on his experience in Tamil Nadu. Here is the scanned image that you've probably already felt warm inside about.
On the other hand, Anjali Philip pointed me to this piece through her Twitter feed. Here's a sample:
Our love for good news is only paralleled by our tendency to ignore the bad.
On the other hand, Anjali Philip pointed me to this piece through her Twitter feed. Here's a sample:
India is a mess. It’s that simple, but it’s also quite complicated.It goes on to state what the author thinks about India's problems, and this guy has travelled the country a little more than ol' Shakespeare of the previous article. I'm not saying that either of these are perfect or accurate in every way, but why am I not surprised that no one's forwarding this article (or even reweeting the link)?
Our love for good news is only paralleled by our tendency to ignore the bad.
Saturday, February 13
Dear unnamed warrior
Ok, I get it. You don't like your name.
It probably translates to something an animal drops in a tough gastronomic phase and has been the cause for much consternation through most of your childhood. Your self-esteem has probably eroded to the levels of Greece's GDP. Even your mother laughed at you once in a while. But seriously then, get off social networking. Or at least off my friend's list.
I don't want to see another wall post from 'Loveable Zoozoo'. What was that you say? It was fun? Do not care. And do not make the brilliance shine in my f*ckin' eyes; your profile pic is (shocker) a 'zoozoo'. Seriously? WTF dude? Get a life. Or at least a change of name.
It probably translates to something an animal drops in a tough gastronomic phase and has been the cause for much consternation through most of your childhood. Your self-esteem has probably eroded to the levels of Greece's GDP. Even your mother laughed at you once in a while. But seriously then, get off social networking. Or at least off my friend's list.
I don't want to see another wall post from 'Loveable Zoozoo'. What was that you say? It was fun? Do not care. And do not make the brilliance shine in my f*ckin' eyes; your profile pic is (shocker) a 'zoozoo'. Seriously? WTF dude? Get a life. Or at least a change of name.
Friday, January 29
How to iron a shirt
Recently, after moving to a country where the ironing anna across the street (or Robert Downey Jr as my wife called him) is an unknown commodity, I've had to come to grips with one of the most boring chores - ironing a full-sleeved formal shirt.
So I thought I would use all my experience to help the reader(s) of this blog to understand how I methodically tackle this challenging task day after day.
How to iron a shirt, by Rohan D'Sa.
1. First take the collar portion; iron the part between the shoulder blades.
2. Next iron the collar, once on the reverse and once on the front. [NOTE: This is very important]
3. Then take the sleeves. Iron them so that no creases remain on either of them.
4. Iron the back of the shirt. Make sure that the front of the shirt doesn't come under it when you do, as it will get crumpled.
5. Iron the first half of the front, the one without the pockets.
6. Iron the second half and ensure that there are no creases. Also iron between the buttons.
7. Wear a full length sweater that shows only the collar.
In this way, me and most of my colleagues here manage to look presentable.
The end.
So I thought I would use all my experience to help the reader(s) of this blog to understand how I methodically tackle this challenging task day after day.
How to iron a shirt, by Rohan D'Sa.
1. First take the collar portion; iron the part between the shoulder blades.
2. Next iron the collar, once on the reverse and once on the front. [NOTE: This is very important]
3. Then take the sleeves. Iron them so that no creases remain on either of them.
4. Iron the back of the shirt. Make sure that the front of the shirt doesn't come under it when you do, as it will get crumpled.
5. Iron the first half of the front, the one without the pockets.
6. Iron the second half and ensure that there are no creases. Also iron between the buttons.
7. Wear a full length sweater that shows only the collar.
In this way, me and most of my colleagues here manage to look presentable.
The end.
Monday, January 18
Temperature tantrums
All said and done, the human body is a completely arbit work of art.
Take this for example: the temperature rises to 7 degrees Celsius in Utrecht, Netherlands and I see the first set of people in t-shirts. Back home in Chennai, the temperature dips below 30 degrees and invisible ear muffs become all the rage to fight the 'cold'.
As Amit Varma would say, such it goes.
Take this for example: the temperature rises to 7 degrees Celsius in Utrecht, Netherlands and I see the first set of people in t-shirts. Back home in Chennai, the temperature dips below 30 degrees and invisible ear muffs become all the rage to fight the 'cold'.
As Amit Varma would say, such it goes.
Tuesday, January 5
Chetan Bhagat visits Harvard, demands credit for grading system
In an unsurprising turn of events, Chetan Bhagat's recent visit to Harvard has caused quite a stir. In a press conference called by him for no apparent reason, he said, "Clearly the grading system out there with the points and the someones and the fives is inspired by my book. The least they could have done is give me credit for it. I do not want money, at least they can have a case study about me."
When a journalist mentioned that the system had been in place for many decades before the book, Chetan retorted, "That is chronology, which is only one of the aspects. I'm not saying I'm 100% correct. But at least I'm 70% correct. So where is the credit for that?"
To confirm this, he read out a letter from a fan.
He seemed unstoppable when he said, "That's not all. All evil profs named Cherian must pay me royalty for making them popular. I have contributed to 70% of their identity."
Asked from where he cooked up such ridiculous ideas, he responded, "The FPS buzz just does not die down. There are millions of readers out there. One of them was studying in Harvard and..."
He could not complete the statement because of journos guffawing at the unintentional joke. Soon, a steady stream of people began leaving the press conference when they realised that the promised veg puffs and cola were not to be seen anywhere.
"Anyway, I have forwarded this mail to the folks in Harvard. This is all I have to say on this matter. We have moved on", he declared to a fast dwindling crowd.
The last standing journalist from Aaj Tak was heard asking, "Sir would you like to appear on a programme called 'Lekhak ya pheku'?"
Chetan re-iterated, "I have moved on", and after seeing that no one was in the room, he added, "Let's do it." displaying again his skill at negotiating contracts.
Elsewhere, Vidhu Vinod Chopra was seen adapting the Taj Mahal to create an original 8th wonder of the world.
When a journalist mentioned that the system had been in place for many decades before the book, Chetan retorted, "That is chronology, which is only one of the aspects. I'm not saying I'm 100% correct. But at least I'm 70% correct. So where is the credit for that?"
To confirm this, he read out a letter from a fan.
'Dear sir,"Wr-Wrong one", he stammered as he quickly searched his pockets amidst assorted LOL's, LMAO's and ROTFL's. "Ah, found it."
You are the biggest author in the world for me. I especially like your books of Harry Potter...'
'Dear sir, why only IIT - Harvard is also having story like yours sir'He finished the line with a contented smirk that revealed his ignorance about other books having similar stories and more importantly, his secret fascination with being called 'Sir'.
He seemed unstoppable when he said, "That's not all. All evil profs named Cherian must pay me royalty for making them popular. I have contributed to 70% of their identity."
Asked from where he cooked up such ridiculous ideas, he responded, "The FPS buzz just does not die down. There are millions of readers out there. One of them was studying in Harvard and..."
He could not complete the statement because of journos guffawing at the unintentional joke. Soon, a steady stream of people began leaving the press conference when they realised that the promised veg puffs and cola were not to be seen anywhere.
"Anyway, I have forwarded this mail to the folks in Harvard. This is all I have to say on this matter. We have moved on", he declared to a fast dwindling crowd.
The last standing journalist from Aaj Tak was heard asking, "Sir would you like to appear on a programme called 'Lekhak ya pheku'?"
Chetan re-iterated, "I have moved on", and after seeing that no one was in the room, he added, "Let's do it." displaying again his skill at negotiating contracts.
Elsewhere, Vidhu Vinod Chopra was seen adapting the Taj Mahal to create an original 8th wonder of the world.
Wednesday, December 23
Media couples that can never be
News channels / publications are making a conscious effort to brand couples by combining their names after 'Brangelina' took off like wildfire. A recent one I saw was Saif + Kareena = Saifeena. Unfortunately, Saifeena sounds a little too much like a muscular lady with a severe facial hair problem. But that's not all.
Imagine some couples out there who just can't be because of this new fad. Some are:
Imagine some couples out there who just can't be because of this new fad. Some are:
- Fardeen Khan and Trisha (Far-t)
- Tushar Kapoor and Eesha Deol (Tush-ee)
- Perizaad Kolah and Younis Khan
- Chunky Pandey and Rambha (Chunky Rambha)
- Diya Mirza and Hrithik Roshan
Monday, December 7
Parent friendly blogpost
In India, we take a lot of things for granted. Some of these are: So as I was saying, only when one is freezing one's balls off, does one realize how regular the sunlight (and heat) is throughout the year at one's equatorially proximate (are those even real words?) country.
Going to office in winter-time Netherlands is muchos depressing when at 8 in the morning, it's still like 4 am in India. The mind plays tricks on me and says, "It's only, 4 am, machan. Sleep some more. That alarm clock and digital clock and wristwatch are all wrong, da." It's only recently the mind has started speaking English with a Tamil twang.
And even if you manage to finish work on time (hahahaha), which is to say, around 5 PM, it's already twilight. This means that only way to get rid of depression and warm up is using alcohol. And that's a valid reason. And I need to provide valid reasons since my parents are possibly reading this. No, mom and dad, I haven't done a blog cleanup or become an alcoholic. See how nice I am?
"WTF kinda blog post is this, machan? Third class quality, I say!"
I know, I know. I will improve.
- Garlic breath
- Freedom to ask personal questions
- Per second mobile billing
- Freedom to drive on the wrong side of the road
- Garlic farts
- Freedom to walk on the road
- Men holding hands with men without being emotionally involved and
- Sunlight
I actually wanted to write about the last point, but thought I'd generally make up a list filled with other random items so that you read whatever follows. Smart, huh?
"WTF kinda blog post is this, machan? Third class quality, I say!"
I know, I know. I will improve.
Monday, November 16
These are some of my dumbest things...
I want to write about the dumbest things I've ever done. But I don't particularly feel like writing anything with long sentences. And I feel like shooting something. The solution? Bullets.
- Trying to go vegetarian
- Thinking I can understand what my wife is thinking
- Ramming my car into a pole on my first day driving
- Putting some important documents in one file and losing them all
- Giving up a possible career in music
- Watching Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani
- Calling my blog 'Daily' Humor
- Giving up a possible career as a tech entrepreneur
- Calling my blog Daily 'Humor'
- Trying to have meetings in English in Chennai
- Thinking Shah Rukh Khan was an actor
- Playing the 'Street Hawk' title track in my head when I was 11 years old and consequently banging my bicycle into a car at breakneck speed
- Assuming Sam Anderson was a Hollywood stud
- Having medicines prescribed by doctors in Chennai
- Watching Inglourious Basterds (which is mainly in German and French) with Dutch subtitles
Monday, October 19
Breaking blogger's block: An arc, a circle, various figures of speech, Rushdie and the color of Superman's underwear
"So you've come round, huh?", said the arc to circle.
"Of course, fully."
"These idiots played three teams, not even a single one in the semis. Pah!", a despondent looking arc exclaimed.
"Not a single team in the semi-finals, because not a single team was good enough. Not a single team was good enough because they all come from the BCCI stable. And we know what that produces - stinking teams that never win anything with the word 'Champions' in the title."
"Circular logic, but sound at that. Circle, I love you."
"Yes Arc, I complete you."
"Can this get any cornier, golu baby?"
"Yes, of course, this can degenerate into a rant about the same topic with various figures of speech and a reference to Salman Rushdie and the color of Superman's underwear."
Ahh. So it comes to pass. The three top teams of the prestigious IPL come undone and fail to make it to the top 4 of the series. After the Indian team getting its arse kicked in the recently concluded Champion's Trophy, it's time for the IPL champs to bring glorious ignominy to the nation.
It's ironic that the richest cricket board produces the losingest teams. In fact, it's always ironic when one extreme produces another extreme result. Extremes are also interesting when used in another figure of speech - the paradox. As a character in Rushdie's 'The Enchantress of Florence' points out any paradox can be used to feign wisdom. Examples of this could be, "His wealth belies the poverty of the soul" or "Laughter disguises a deep-seated sorrow" or "Her life couldn't give her what death could" and so on. Fret not, dear reader, my digressions are but the milestones to the destination.
So, about the Indian Premiere League producing the non-premiere performers. Let me illustrate this further using metaphors. This is like Superman fighting crime in Metropolis but going to Gotham City and getting creamed. Wouldn't that hurt? Not just in a phsyical sense, but it would wound him emotionally to know that he failed when a non-hero with dull-colored underwear, (really, isn't that what Batman is) a pointy-eared mask and a pubescent sidekick can fight crime better. This would be like the American basketball team being unable to win medals in the Olympics. Like DLF not being able to build houses outside India. Like England never winning a World Cup. And so, round comes the metaphor-cycle to cricket. Or were those similes?
I will never again do this, I promise. Breaking blogger's block has been harder than I imagined. But we break free only to be trapped again. Like a jaguar in chains, like a blogger in a block...
"Of course, fully."
"These idiots played three teams, not even a single one in the semis. Pah!", a despondent looking arc exclaimed.
"Not a single team in the semi-finals, because not a single team was good enough. Not a single team was good enough because they all come from the BCCI stable. And we know what that produces - stinking teams that never win anything with the word 'Champions' in the title."
"Circular logic, but sound at that. Circle, I love you."
"Yes Arc, I complete you."
"Can this get any cornier, golu baby?"
"Yes, of course, this can degenerate into a rant about the same topic with various figures of speech and a reference to Salman Rushdie and the color of Superman's underwear."
Same topic with various figures of speech and a reference to Salman Rushdie and the color of Superman's underwear
Ahh. So it comes to pass. The three top teams of the prestigious IPL come undone and fail to make it to the top 4 of the series. After the Indian team getting its arse kicked in the recently concluded Champion's Trophy, it's time for the IPL champs to bring glorious ignominy to the nation.
It's ironic that the richest cricket board produces the losingest teams. In fact, it's always ironic when one extreme produces another extreme result. Extremes are also interesting when used in another figure of speech - the paradox. As a character in Rushdie's 'The Enchantress of Florence' points out any paradox can be used to feign wisdom. Examples of this could be, "His wealth belies the poverty of the soul" or "Laughter disguises a deep-seated sorrow" or "Her life couldn't give her what death could" and so on. Fret not, dear reader, my digressions are but the milestones to the destination.
So, about the Indian Premiere League producing the non-premiere performers. Let me illustrate this further using metaphors. This is like Superman fighting crime in Metropolis but going to Gotham City and getting creamed. Wouldn't that hurt? Not just in a phsyical sense, but it would wound him emotionally to know that he failed when a non-hero with dull-colored underwear, (really, isn't that what Batman is) a pointy-eared mask and a pubescent sidekick can fight crime better. This would be like the American basketball team being unable to win medals in the Olympics. Like DLF not being able to build houses outside India. Like England never winning a World Cup. And so, round comes the metaphor-cycle to cricket. Or were those similes?
I will never again do this, I promise. Breaking blogger's block has been harder than I imagined. But we break free only to be trapped again. Like a jaguar in chains, like a blogger in a block...
Wednesday, September 30
Shock deaths
I begin today's post by a quote related to YSR's death and the 'shock deaths' controversy that followed. It wasn't enough that upto 600 'bogus' deaths were reported. To justify that the deaths weren't bogus, a member of the legislative assembly says:
Oh, and speaking of shock what a bizarre day it was with all of India cheering for Pakistan to win today. A thriller of a match, but it was not to be. Bye bye Champions Trophy. Now the analysis will start - "This isn't the best team", "Dhoni should have slept facing the west", "Why was Dinesh Karthik picked?" etc. But the fact of the matter is, as @Sidin pointed out - We lost only one match. What a crappy tournament format.
Please excuse me now while I attempt suicide.
Even we thought of committing suicide after learning about the death of our great leader. We are ready to sacrifice our lives and we don't need politics minus YSR's family.Eh? Sacrifice should be for some cause, no? Randomly killing yourself because someone you respect died isn't sacrifice. It's general suicidal tendency. More shocking details here.
Oh, and speaking of shock what a bizarre day it was with all of India cheering for Pakistan to win today. A thriller of a match, but it was not to be. Bye bye Champions Trophy. Now the analysis will start - "This isn't the best team", "Dhoni should have slept facing the west", "Why was Dinesh Karthik picked?" etc. But the fact of the matter is, as @Sidin pointed out - We lost only one match. What a crappy tournament format.
Please excuse me now while I attempt suicide.
Friday, August 14
But I don't want to sleep!
I check Twitter. Two tweets about how to better use Google Reader. I check Facebook. I respond to a cool status message. I check Twitter via Tweetdeck. I check GMail. Facebook again. Nothing has changed. I delete the spam from GMail. I retweet some something to keep my Twitter account alive. It's 12:30 AM. What am I doing? Or avoiding? Sleep is overrated. But then so is social networking.
I post my thoughts on my blog.
I post my thoughts on my blog.
Monday, August 3
The ten commandments of a visit to relatives in Kerala...
...esp. for the non-Mallus
1. Thou shalt not deny the booze. There is no excuse to say no to alcohol. Not after the uncle offering you the booze bought five bottles of whiskey on his way back home from a bypass surgery.
2. Thou shalt diversify. No edible item at the table is 'the best'. The moment you start stuffing yourself with fried fish thinking it's the yummiest thing on the menu, you discover the chicken curry. But you might just be a kilo too late.
3. Thou shalt extrapolate. Even if you don't understand the language, you shall do your best to reconstruct a coherent sentence from the 2 words you understand out of every 30.
4. Thou shalt not try fancy, new-fangled technology devices. Mobile signals are weak and the GPS thingy does not even connect to a satellite. Shame on you for fiddling with that fancy phone.
5. Thou shalt never ever, EVER travel by sleeper class. Whether it's the noisy guys on the way to Kerala or the ribald Romeos on the way back, you don't want to have to show your macho moves to save the wife. Mainly because you don't have any.
6. Thou shalt not accept gifts heavier than 1 kg. You now have enough rice flour and bananas to adopt a pet monkey who likes appams. And if it weren't for coolies, you would have lost a shoulder.
7. Thou shalt lose weight BEFORE thou travel(eth?). Because 3 breakfasts and 2 lunches and a smorgasbord for dinner everyday will push you over the quintal.
8. Thou shalt believe in a higher presence. Not because there are a large number of places of worship per area, but because you have travelled on a road not wide enough for two cars at 80 KMPH and lived to tell the tale.
9. Thou shalt respect traditional dress. The mundu is not only airy, but also customizable from long to short at a single flick of the wrist.
10. Thou shalt not state preference of food under any condition. Else thou shalt have to eat thy preference till thou loosen thy mundu, regain thy weight, and manage to speak the two words to communicate that you are done.
But seriously, Kerala is a beautiful place to visit especially if you have relatives there like my wife does. Despite not understanding the language, I really look forward to going because of the copious alcohol, the delectable cuisine, the fresh air and the warm people. What more is there to life, really?
1. Thou shalt not deny the booze. There is no excuse to say no to alcohol. Not after the uncle offering you the booze bought five bottles of whiskey on his way back home from a bypass surgery.
2. Thou shalt diversify. No edible item at the table is 'the best'. The moment you start stuffing yourself with fried fish thinking it's the yummiest thing on the menu, you discover the chicken curry. But you might just be a kilo too late.
3. Thou shalt extrapolate. Even if you don't understand the language, you shall do your best to reconstruct a coherent sentence from the 2 words you understand out of every 30.
4. Thou shalt not try fancy, new-fangled technology devices. Mobile signals are weak and the GPS thingy does not even connect to a satellite. Shame on you for fiddling with that fancy phone.
5. Thou shalt never ever, EVER travel by sleeper class. Whether it's the noisy guys on the way to Kerala or the ribald Romeos on the way back, you don't want to have to show your macho moves to save the wife. Mainly because you don't have any.
6. Thou shalt not accept gifts heavier than 1 kg. You now have enough rice flour and bananas to adopt a pet monkey who likes appams. And if it weren't for coolies, you would have lost a shoulder.
7. Thou shalt lose weight BEFORE thou travel(eth?). Because 3 breakfasts and 2 lunches and a smorgasbord for dinner everyday will push you over the quintal.
8. Thou shalt believe in a higher presence. Not because there are a large number of places of worship per area, but because you have travelled on a road not wide enough for two cars at 80 KMPH and lived to tell the tale.
9. Thou shalt respect traditional dress. The mundu is not only airy, but also customizable from long to short at a single flick of the wrist.
10. Thou shalt not state preference of food under any condition. Else thou shalt have to eat thy preference till thou loosen thy mundu, regain thy weight, and manage to speak the two words to communicate that you are done.
But seriously, Kerala is a beautiful place to visit especially if you have relatives there like my wife does. Despite not understanding the language, I really look forward to going because of the copious alcohol, the delectable cuisine, the fresh air and the warm people. What more is there to life, really?
Tuesday, July 21
Riddle me sick
Q: What's the best word to scare one's wife when one's down with fever and other flu-like symptoms?
A: Oink.
I know, don't tell me - I'm mean as an average. Sick as a mass murderer. Aaargh.
The similes are off colour today. Apologies. A little under the weather. And speaking of weather, check this out.
Hurrah for our government and their proactiveness. Ok back to the bed. Blogging shall soon resume. Don't go too far.
A: Oink.
I know, don't tell me - I'm mean as an average. Sick as a mass murderer. Aaargh.
The similes are off colour today. Apologies. A little under the weather. And speaking of weather, check this out.
Aircel Innovation In Mumbai On Rains
View more presentations from guest1af563.
Hurrah for our government and their proactiveness. Ok back to the bed. Blogging shall soon resume. Don't go too far.
Tuesday, June 2
RamaRaju Surgical Cotton
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)