Writing Practice

I had a sudden realization today and I really identify with Chandler from friends. All these days, I had been saying to myself that I do not care about work because I never dreamed about end to end delay or audio/video quality. Sadly, I realized that I do deeply care about some things, and I caught myself pining to go back to work and see through the task I had left unfinished. Maybe, it is the satisfaction derived from being productive, of having seen a difficult task through with good results to show for my efforts. How pathetic. Pathethic because if true, I had to wait for such a long time since my birth for this. I am only fully revelling in this experience now. Maybe this is why I turn to cleaning and other household chores during those now ever-so-frequent, spontaneous and short-lived moments of personal crises. If only I had the testosterone and adrenaline rush of the days of my early youth, which I mistook for sheer will, to actually get those things done which have no immediate payoffs, but are nevertheless very important. What I need now is a source of suffering so devastating that it catalyses my ongoing efforts to keep myself from being distracted. I can only write this measly stub of paragraph for now because of said state of being distracted.

Watching Movies Alone

Disclaimer : This post is most definitely not worth reading. This is just an exercise.

Everyone seems to have an instinctive reaction that stops them from going to the movies alone. That is crazy because going to the movies is not a group activity. Playing team sports is a group activity and there's a very good reason why a football match is called off when the number of players in a team drops below a number. The reason is, continuing with that activity beyond such a point is so difficult and idiotic that if you were to continue, you would very rightly be called manly.

That is thankfully not true of watching movies at a theatre. Thing is, people think going to a theatre is like going to a pub or a disco. It's not. Stag entries are allowed at theatres, aren't they? Unlike a disco or a pub, does the movie watching experience at a theatre depend on the quality or quantity of the people accompanying you? It does not. Even if nobody brings friends who have an odd sense of humour to the movies, people who laugh at all the wrong parts still manage show up. The movie watching experience will largely remain the same.

I have absolutely no problems with going to the movies alone, but that is primarily because of the definition of manliness as stated in the first para. What I find disturbing is my parent’s reaction to the whole affair. My parents belong to that generation that firmly believe that praying daily, polishing one's boots daily, etc. are "character-building" activities. My parents regularly "encouraged"(threatened) me to "invest"(waste) my time in such character-building activities. And somehow, going to the movies alone does not fall into the category of character-building activities! They think it is necessary to accompany me even if they don't like the movie. I have (obviously) used this to my advantage and now my parents accompany me, but they usually watch some other movie simultaneously in the multiplex.

A hypothesis on why the seediest places have the best food and tea

Last Sunday I walked in all, 12 kilometers, just so I can taste good tea. Let me digress to say I envy motherfornicators like N.D. Tiwari who has everything intact at that age, because tea is the kryptonite to my digestive system. And I'm only in my early twenties. Let's put it this way, being in my vicinity after I have had tea on an empty stomach is the closest you'll come to experiencing a spirit bomb.

After I had walked around 5 kilometers, I finally reached the place and it was the dirtiest, blackest, seedy lair of eagles and carrion eaters (there was a beef market on that road) and flies. It made the the famous/notorious toilet scene from Trainspotting look tame in comparison. That's when I knew I was going to have the best tea I have had in quite some time there.

See, it's like this. When you live in a place like that, you know you're fucked. The pavement is as black as the road, the only way you can tell them apart is because of the cesspool in the gutters. All sorts of carrion eating creatures are visible, which means if you are brave enough, you'll be rewarded with the sight of a dumping ground of unwanted flesh, hide and bones. I'm squeamish already.

To add to that, you don't have enough disposable income to buy contraceptives and to keep your half dozen kids in school. Buying a truck to transport your populous family when you are not using it to transport freshly butchered meat is your idea of a good investment. Womens' idea of freedom is being let out of the house to buy groceries without a man having to supervise you.

When you are in a place like that you don't want to live. You secretly wish your life expectancy is much shorter than average. You want to die. You wish your adversaries and arch-nemesis live to a ripe old age. You want to die that bad. And when you are so desperate for it to end, you want it to end with a bang.

That's when I knew I'd be having great tea. I had two cups and a samosa.

The Wait

He was like any other child. Until his teens that is. It was in his teens that he first faced this problem. It was his heart. His heart constantly pined for something. What it was that his heart pined for, he did not know. Many a days were spent gazing absently at inanimate objects and the sky in hope of divine intervention. 
His heart lurched in his chest, it revolted violently. It would not permit him to complete any task. At first, it would become very excited to. But later, it always deceived him, deciding that what lay at the end was not what it pined for. It would wait till he would rest, midway through the task, when his guard was down. And then, it would scream savagely. Midway through the task he would be reminded of that thing he could not have. Thus, he would be cheated of the fruits of his labour. Never, even by mistake, or out of pity, did it ever grant him a happy moment. Very soon, his heart demanded everything he had. All his faculties were focussed on his heart. Day or night, asleep or awake, he was always engaged in asking his heart what it pined for. But his heart was stubborn. Not once did it disclose the secret. Slowly, his heart lost patience with him, and he with his heart.
He had learned from an ascetic that there was a way to get rid of one's heart. But what exactly the procedure was, the ascetic did not know. He was instructed to travel to a far off land, where lived an ancient tribe that practised the dark arts. So, leaving behind his family, home, friends and everything he held dear, he left for that distant land. The journey was in itself very treacherous, filled with numerous temptations. He encountered many people who were headed for the same destination. But he beat them all and reached the destination first. He learned that to get rid of his heart, he would have live in complete isolation. He had to study the voluminous scriptures of the tribe while in isolation. And so, study the scriptures he did. The scriptures were filled with all things evil about the universe. It taught him about the malice in even the seemingly good things. In time, it taught him to manipulate ideas to justify what he was doing. It strengthened his brain to the point where it could oust the heart out of his body. And thus, he got rid of his heart.
Free of this bondage, he was happy for the first time in his life. He was no longer tortured by emotions and could complete any task that he took up. He completed many tasks that he had abandoned previously. To see a task to completion gave him immense satisfaction. He tried new things in life. His brain would give him a very strong rationale for doing whatever he wanted to do. But then, he faced new problems. Even tough he had very strong reasons and ideas to continue what he was doing, he was no longer interested. The hope that the next task may be that what his heart pined for was long gone. He was lost. Directionless, he lost the will to live. He wanted his heart back. But, the effects of the dark arts were irreversible. There was no way to get his heart back, except for starting all over again. But his brain, that loathsome coward, regardless of how hard he tried, refused to provide him with a reason to end his life. The very rationale that enabled him to terminate his tasks was hindering his termination.Trapped, and a slave of his brain, he was left with no choice but to wait for his death and start over again.

How To: Stop Behaving Like A Sissy, Plot The Downfall Of The Opposition While Rubbing Your Hands With Delight

Immediately after becoming BJP President, Nitin Gadkari reshuffled the party management. Out went all the old leaders, in came all the dashing, young ones (who were only 5-6 years younger). Gadkari tried to revitalize the party by imbibing the famed RSS discipline and by blending professionalism, glamour, youth and experience. Chintan Baithaks were organized, differences among the senior party leaders and infighting was resolved, opposition party leaders were abused. After waging a mini crusade against their traditional style of functioning, the BJP finally comes up with it's most ingeniously creative and original idea yet - a bandh.

So, as Rajnath Singh, Nitin Gadkari, and countless other party workers court arrest, the only ones rubbing their hands with delight in that comically devilish manner is the Congress top brass.

As the old, cheesy movie adage goes,"look within yourself, for the answer will come from within". The BJP too has a dormant giant within its rank. And to unleash this giant, all it has to do is follow my diabolical plan, i.e. how to Pwn the opposition and rub your hands with delight in a comically devilish way

Step 1 - Obliterate Sonia Gandhi.
Step 2 - Castrate Rahul Baba and place him under house arrest.
Step 3 - Kill Priyanka Gandhi.
Step 4 - Publicise Maneka and Varun Gandhi as the only living members of the Gandhi clan.
Step 5 - Wait for the next general elections. GAME OVER CONGRESS.

How To: Bang 72 Virgins

The fast-track court finally senteced Kasab to death by hanging. That's right. DEATH SENTENCE for a JEHADI. So, today I can sleep peacefully knowing that terrorists are absolutely petrified of the Indian judiciary. And also because of the fact that this sort of punishment makes the Taliban's policy of stoning people look reeally immature.

But all that aside, imagine what would happen if the judiciary penalised offenders by actually helping them to fulful their objective. Death sentence for a jehadi, eh? Hmmmm. So who wants to be a serial rapist? It would actually be a colossal KLPD for the terrorists who prefer to die while 'saving' their brethren in the hope of 'jannat' and 72 virgins. Imagine a serial rapist caught red handed and then being sentenced by the judiciary. Extending the same logic for the Kasab case, the judiciary will 'punish' him. 72 virgins, without the death.

Jataka Tales


Remember those stories we read as children? The one in which anthromorphic animals were the main characters and the story always had a moral? The stories that came with illustrations in thin, glossy books? They were Jataka Tales.

Recently I created one that could be counted as one of those. It has an animal, actually a reptile as the characters, and an ending that is an invaluable lesson in this age. With actual photographs instead of illustrations. Let's begin.

Once upon a time, there was a boy lizard who hit puberty. Let's call him Biswajit Panda. He got curious about the birds and the bees, having fully developed sexual organs and all. One fine day in the summer, he ventured out of the hole in the wall that he called home, into the big bad world called room no. B-60. That world was ruled by a towering giant, who literally laughed out loud whenever he would see lizards having sex.

One day, while turning a corner while in pursuit of a particularly juicy insect, he bumped into this beatiful she-lizard, just as in Bollywood movies. Let us call her Abhipsa Behera.

Biswajit(left), Abhipsa(right)
After that initial meeting, Biswajit and Abhipsa kept bumping into each other more often. Before you knew it, they were doing each other more frequently than Yousuf Pathan hits sixes. 

Things were smooth. Biswajit and Abhipsa graduated, both got a job (Biswajit got an actual one, Abhipsa got one done on her boobs) and and got hitched. They were as happy as they could be. That was until a year after their marriage. Then the sex got boring. They would still have sex, but it became monotonous. That's when these minor tussles between the two erupted into full-blown clicking competitions. They were desperate to spice things up and save their marriage.


One day, while lying in bed, Biswajit said to Abhipsa,"Let's try something new."
"What?",Abhipsa replied.
"The towering giant has got a funny machine which contains a large volume of water and spews out cool air. I reckon he calls it a 'cooler'"
"Let's do it in there."

And so, Abhipsa and Biswajit proceeded to fornicate in the cooler. They knew a cooler was a very dangerous place. They were aware that it had a device that moved very fast and could dismember you if one would get caught in it. They managed to negotiate that initial problem. But, the bigger problem was, those sick fucks never studied biology in college. So, they never knew that lizards did not have gills. They died a bitter death while making sweet love. But at least they spent their last moments together. And pissed of the giant by making him dispose of their carcasses.

Moral Of The Story : Practise safe sex.