Saturday, July 11, 2009

Topics to avoid during a massage

I get massages about once a month to help me deal with the no sleep and stress . I figure that they must be pretty bored standing in a dimly lit room with a nude stranger in a towel listening to the same Enya song for the 30th time that day, so I try and make small talk. And with a bit of experience I have come up with a list of topics to avoid while professionally trained strangers poke at your highly sensitive pressure points.

1. Why they didn't get a job where they don't have to touch naked strangers while listening to Enya.

2. How often they have thought about killing a massage patient and hiding the body.

3. Anything to do with the little mermaid. (Don't ask)

4. Ranting about the music and how boring it is. This is a fact they are highly aware of and have most likely tuned out. Bringing this to their attention tends to open old forgotten issues and makes them want to hurt you.

5. Dead pets and why they miss them.

6. Why the name fluffy is a stupid name for a dead pet and why you think it probably deserved to die.

7. Never ask: "Have you ever made anyone cry with those mannish hands?" (this was a woman therapist)

8. For some reason I decided to talk about lemmings and how they where the predecessor to the suicide bomber (what!? I get bored sometimes)little did I know her husband was in Iraq. But you can make them blow themselves up you know.... the lemmings, I'm still talking about the lemmings.

9. How the game of tick tack toe is a lost art. This conversation has no where to go and will eventually lead you down the road of lemmings with suicidal tendencies.

10. And finally and most crucially never ever talk about massages from better massage therapists. Not only is it insulting it will as most of my massages do, only end it tears.

I think I might just start pretending to be mute of course if they know sign language all I know how to say is how 'bout those lemmings.

Strange facts -part 2

Every day 20 banks are robbed. The average take is $2,500! - I guess that is the reason for our global recession. Plus,throw in a few frauds like Raju and Murdoff..(frauds worth 700 crore rupees and 65 billion $ respectively) and you know the reason why you will sit at home unemployed..

Tablecloths were originally meant to be served as towels with which dinner guests could wipe their hands and faces after eating! - Well they end up as dirty as our napkins do....

Tourists visiting Iceland should know that tipping at a restaurant is considered an insult!
- The waiters probably expect more ice to be given to them

One car out of every 230 made was stolen last year! - That is a really bad job done by the robbers.....There is still a lot of traffic jam

The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye! - Luckily they could not talk in the cartoon.....

The longest recorded flight of a chicken is 13 seconds! - After which it was shot dead,cooked and eaten....

Pamela Anderson stamps have been stopped printing in the States - I guess people just started licking on the wrong side of the stamp...

The average person has over 1,460 dreams a year - None of them come true....

One in every 4 Americans has appeared on television! - They were probably seen during the Iraq or the Afghanistan wars


Why is all leather not waterproof? I mean do cows discolor and shrink in the rain?

Butterflies taste with their feet.... so when they land on you they are just trying to eat your soul.

The elephant is the only animal that can't jump... So I think that all games where you can't jump the main character should be replaced with an elephant. So that when people complain and are like "why can't I jump?" I can say "dude you're an elephant."

Only one person in two billion will live to be 116 or older... yet it seems about 1 in 2 piss me off on a daily basis.

Women blink nearly twice as much as men (this is an actual fact)....This is why you are terrible drivers your eyes are closed twice as much as ours.

A sail can sleep up to three years... I can sleep up to three hours a night.

The cigarette lighter was invented before the match... Seems kind of like a backward step.

101 Dalmatians and Peter Pan are the only two Disney cartoon features with both parents that are present and don't die throughout the movie... That's kind of messed up if you think about it.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


One Bengali = poet.
Two Bengalis = a film society.
Three Bengalis = political party.
Four Bengalis = two political parties.
More than four Bengali's = Countrywide agitation to bring Ganguli into
Team .

One Bihari = Laloo Prasad Yadav.
Two Biharis = booth-capturing squad.
Three Biharis = caste killing.
Four Biharis = entire literate population of Patna .

One Punjabi =100 kg hulk named Pinky.
Two Punjabis = Pinky with his bigger brother Twinky.
Three Punjabis = assault on the McAloo Tikkis at the local McDonalds.
Four Punjabis = combined IQ equal to one.

One Mallu = coconut stall.
Two Mallus = a boat race.
Three Mallus = Gulf job racket.
Four Mallus = oil slick.

One Gujju = share-broker in a Bombay train.
Two Gujjus = rummy game in a Bombay train.
Three Gujjus = Bombay 's noisiest restaurant.
Four Gujjus = stock market scam.

One Andhraite = chili farmer.
Two Andhraites = software company in New Jersey .
Three Andhraites = Naxalite outfit.
Four Andhraites = song-and-dance number in a Telugu movie.

One Kashmiri = carpet salesman.
Two Kashmiris = carpet factory.
Three Kashmiris = terrorist outfit.
Four Kashmiris = shoot-at-sight order.

One Tam-Brahm = priest at the Vardarajaperumal temple.
Two Tam-Brahms = Maths tuition class.
Three Tam-Brahms = Queue outside the U.S consulate at 4 a.m.
Four Tam-Brahms = Thyagaraja music festival in Santa Clara .

One Mumbaikar = footpath vada-pav stall.
Two Mumbaikars = film studio.
Three Mumbaikars = slum
Four Mumbaikars = The number of people standing on your foot in the
train at rush hour.

One Sindhi = currency racket.
Two Sindhis = papad factory.
Three Sindhis = duplicate goods shop in Ulhasnagar .
Four Sindhis = Hong Kong Retail Traders Association.

One Marwari = The neighbourhood foodstuffs adulterator.
Two Marwaris = 50% of Calcutta .
Three Marwaris = Finish off all Gujaratis & Sindhis.
Four Marwaris = Threaten the Jews as a community.

One Haryanavi = tube light
Two Haryanavi = agriculture
Three Haryannavi= Lathi squad
Four Haryanavi = actually just one was enough

Friday, March 6, 2009

God save our streets!!!

The house I grew up was just a street away from the busiest center in our small town. But our street was quite busy as well because of the wall in front of our house, which is a well-known de-facto public urinal for the entire downtown. At any given time of the day I could see not less than four people lined up making abstract drawings on the wall. I used to call them Pablo Peecassos. It was as if the wall had special powers to precipitate nature’s call in passers-by. I had a suspicion that some people woke up and travelled half way across the town to use the wall every morning.

As one can imagine, we hated the wall, even though the wall did provide some entertainment. For example, one day our street was invaded by monkeys. A gentleman doing his business on the wall suddenly looked up to realize that a monkey was sitting on the wall and curiously summing up his frontal glory. He had a dilemma of epic proportions. Should he continue to finish his business and risk being bitten by the monkey or stop half way and run. Alas, the cruel irony of life. He did stop half way and run, AND got bitten by the monkey.

The moments of such mirth aside, one can safely assume that we didn’t want people to answer their nature’s call in front of our house. We did the normal thing one with no experience in such matters would do. We put up a big sign, “NO PEEING ON THE WALL.” Our biggest mistake? Putting the sign low enough on the wall so that people could actually use the sign for target practice. Secondly, the sign reminded people of the existence of their bladder. Without having to delve into specific statistical models, we could figure out that the traffic at the wall nearly doubled after posting the sign.

The second brilliant idea we had was to appoint two guys to walk about on our street and yell at the happy relievers. “Hey, you got no sense of decency? Shoo, shoo” was their general mantra. This seemed to have worked on the first day. But the second day there was a revolt. People of our town, who never stood together for anything, were united to protect their right of public indecency. Our appointed henchmen barely escaped being beaten by the mob.

A few days later one of my uncles improvised a solution with the use of household flour and sugar. In phase 1 of the plan, we generously sprinkled the mixture along the opposite wall. Phase 2 of the plan was carried out by thousands of red ants that took to streets to feast on the flour and sugar. People, in the rush to lighten their bladders, pissed off the ants literally and figuratively. The ants absolutely refused to coexist with such people by snacking on their feet. Phase 3 of the plan was watching the delightful dance of people whose feet were being munched on by the ants, albeit they could only use one hand in their dance. Our delight and free dance performances didn’t last too long because it rained that night. Also, we couldn’t have afforded the daily feeding of ants.

We gave up. We did everything humanly possible to persuade people to deposit their waste in their respective bathrooms. We failed. It was time for divine intervention. It was my dad who came up with the most ingenious idea.

Two people were busy working at the wall the entire weekend. Come Monday, the wall featured frescos of smiling Gods of various religions and denominations. Every inch of the wall was covered in colorful pictures of benevolent deities - A Rama, A Christ, An undefined splatter of colors with a crescent on the top which one can only assume as the artist’s rendition of Mecca and other minor religious icons just to be sure.

That was it. From that day forward not one person dared to descecrate the sancutm sanctorum of our town walls. I was in my hometown a month ago. The paintings faded and were retouched over the years. I was happy to walk on our street that reeked of holiness rather than urine.

Thursday, January 15, 2009


Hill stations. Valleys. Rivers. Forests. Rolling lawns. Meadows. Mist. Mystical Hills. Breeze. Weather. Shivering fields. Hill stations. Start and end at the same place. Out of view is out of scope of imagination. What is beyond the hills? Nothing. Confined.

Ever played computer games where you race around town in your car, bike or monster truck? Of course you have. Played games where you hold a gun and run around killing people. Ever tried going off track in such races? Can you? Can you go off a defined ‘map’ in Counter Strike? Ever seen what lies outside the Emirates Stadium in FIFA 09? Ever tried to imagine? Still confined, aren’t we?

What’s your ’super-hero’ like? Human? Still confined.

Try music. It sets us free. In a trance. The fifth dimension? Mere permutations and combinations. (I’d kill the person who thought of such an inference. But wouldn’t want to kill someone who speaks the truth) Have you realised how easily we manage to find solace in the smallest of things - making them appear sufficiently satisfactory to fulfil our SMALL want of “FREEDOM”? Break free into confinement.

Back to the material world. We enjoy the shore. We like the confluence of water and land. Feel free “out in the open air”. Enjoy mild winds and that soothing drizzle. Paradise is all blue and green and healthy and rich. Its still Earth. We aren’t anywhere new. Confined.

Ok, lets go the eight planet of the brighest star in the thirteenth galaxy from the milky way in the direction of Earth-Sirius. Now we’re free. NO! Confined in this universe.

Are we confined really? Or is it just our imagination?

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Bacchaa Party!!!

Is it possible to ever forget your childhood??? Even if it is,I guess movies like Memento and its rip-off Ghajini will explain how. For me,those were the Wonder years,the years of my life I cherish the most. There are times I miss those days so much,there is either a tear in my eye or a thought in my mind to build a time machine. But unfortunately,we grow up......we become mature(well...most of us atleast)...and what hurts me most is we lose contact with ourselves and our loved ones just in order to keep up with our shitty lives.
There is a saying that our lives change for good. I must say I totally disagree with the git he stated this and I would gladly hunt him down and kick his ass. People say what they have to....but it all comes down to you finally.Ask yourselves the same question and see if your answer matches with the quote.
Today when I see a bunch of 11-12 year old kids playing in my colony,all those amazing memories flash right before my eyes. Playing silly games like lagori,chor-police,kho-kho,etc,etc..When I was 11,I always felt that I liked playing these games because they were fun to play.Now I realize that it was not the only reason.The people I played with mattered too.During those days, 4.30 pm to 9.30 pm was a time to just forget who you were,what your age was,what problems you had....It was just time to come down,play and have loads of fun with the people you grew up with,people you loved spending time with. I still remember those days ,when me,as a school-going kid and my group of other school-going kids humiliated our seniors in Cricket, how we fought for samosas and pedas on Independence and Republic days,how we rehearsed day and night to get our dance performance right for the Annual get-together,how we all came together to build lanterns for the building during Diwali and Christmas,how we fooled the secretary of the society for the lantern expenses and drank pepsi and ate chaat with that money,having boys vs girls fights and spray-painting the entire terrace walls with the stance "BOYZ RULE!!!"(though we had to re-paint those walls ourselves),building tree-houses,screwing up the car of the bitch that always had a problem with us playing.
But all those thoughts are wiped out when I sit at home day-dreaming,with an engineering book in my hand and Mum yells form behind,"Where the hell is your concentration???" When this happens it sometimes prompts me to get a tattoo on my forehead,"WHY DID I EVER JOIN ENGINEERING??"
If I had a choice to ask for anything I want, I would surely ask back my childhood.Because those were simply the best days of my life.(I know its clich├ęd...but still)