Il Cattivo

Twitter

2012-02-06T03:47:00.000-08:00

http://twitter.com/supersaj

Matrimonial

2011-05-02T20:17:00.000-07:00

Its raining celebrations everywhere. Human race has never been more excited about conjugal bliss than it is today. Love is in the air and its players are delighted more than ever to "cordially request the pleasure of our company to grace the super auspicious occasion as they take a step forward into the new journey that is filled with amazing moments, immense fun, tremendous happiness and other such amplitude modifiers + mushy adjectives". And best compliments continue to pour from Shantaben and sons, USA and Kishan Patel (BA First Class ) and daughters.

At a time like this , I cannot be left behind to continue living my life without any meaning, balance and direction whatever they mean. I realized that penning a matrimonial could be the answer to my misery. So ladies and gentlemen , without any further ado, I'll let my ego take-over.

Before getting started, let me throw some light on an essential pre-filter. Skin colour. No matter what South Indian film writers say, skin color does form a key parameter in decision making process and we all know it. MJ knew it. Pure blooded north Indians know it better. Maslow himself has admitted that people with darker skin have no place in his hierarchy of needs and that they eventually go on to become thieves. Let me assure you that all is fine on this aspect. Puritans may see a microscopic cross sectional view above. I can work on the shade if need arises so please dont just dismiss if you are not happy with what is presented.

Moving on to the more important traits, the first thing that comes to my mind are the frequent convulsions that engulf me . Long bouts of shaking chills along with shortness of breath is a common condition. This is nothing but Fear of God. God terrifies me and occasionally I can be seen hiding under my desk to escape His wrath. The story dates back to one of my earlier incarnations where I casually walked in whistling a tune when He was deep in meditation. He opened half his left eye as Gods in those days usually did and said unto me – “abe o, baahar jaake khel. zyaada aawaz ki to tang tod doonga ”. The rest is history.

When It comes to sound moral values , the standards are exceptionally high. I took up trekking as a hobby mainly to serve this purpose. I keep going into mountains especially when there is an exceptionally bright light shining and I often come back with stone tablets carved with up to date commandments dictated by – you guessed it right – God. I have a massive collection of tablets in my warehouse and my favourite is ofcourse the famous – “thou shalt not mix your drinks no matter who is paying.”

My sensitive nature has no bounds. I can be seen carressing little birds, healing them and setting them free in the sky. I help old women and little children cross busy streets by holding their hands. When riots take place, I politely ask people to leave their houses before setting the place on fire. I’m pure transcendental love.

Despite all these qualities, I’m basically a simple and down to earth human being . My feet are firmly grounded and when my folks chain me to a pole , they are only enhancing the validity of my point. A simple man, I don’t try to complicate life by contemplating about such things as wine tasting, freemasonry, existentialism and The Realms of Being, oh no Sir. I’d rather go for tilling the soil, growing rice and corn, feeding my family and selling the left over produce to buy wheat and sugar. And eventually marry my children off in a nice , God fearing, respectable family.

That’s pretty much what I have to say of myself. There are quite a few little things which i havnt touched upon here 'cause I think they'd rather be seen and felt than described. (Like for example my lungi and T-shirt attire demonstrates my traditional yet modern nature and the flask of whiskey tucked into my lungi talks highly of my liberal mindset ). So if you are a girl and loosely resemble Katrina Kaif (in form not in spirit), then please send me mail. Also state which part of Katrina you bear resemblance to.

Genius in the House

2010-07-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

Tokyo, which is one of the most cosmopolitan cities in central Japan has surprisingly few Indians. So one does not expect its people to be familiar with anything remotely Indian. However, due to the superior intellect of its local population, people here figure out my nationality within five to six hours of our initial conversation despite my not so obvious physical features (if normal people look at me, they think I’m of elvish descent. )

‘’You are from Indiaaaa!! “ They exclaim. “I love India. I love tandoori chicken and Gandhi. And Bollywood. I’ve always wanted to go to India”

Thanks to The Mahatma, India has truly been propelled onto the world stage. The man single handedly inspired a whole generation of youngsters to sport the ripped six pack abs. If there was no Gandhi , there would have been no dard-e-disco. And we wouldnt have had the phrase "I'm no Gandhi dude, if you slap me on my face, I'll kick you in your balls"

And Bollywood.

“We love Bollywood” proclaim my cosmopolitan friends from Pakistan, Srilanka and The Philippines “Who is that famous actor from your country ? We love his song sequences”

“Govinda ?”

“Yes yes, that’s the one. Govinda. What acting he has done in Zulm ki Hukumat yaar, simply superb”

Its truly heart warming to see people from far off places expressing familiarity with your mother land. And some great personalities have helped us accomplish this. Be it Govinda or Ace Tennis player Sania Mirza’s former fiance or the guy who played the third brother in Yaadon ki Baarat (the second was the famous Vijay Arora), the list of cultural ambassadors from India is growing by the day. However, amidst this whole hullaballoo of glamour and politics, it is easy to overlook the true representatives, the real geniuses - the Scientists, Engineers and the Salespeople of our country. One such man is Tathagat Avatar Tulsi. The Times of India carried a brief story on him recently (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/City/Mumbai/I-was-programmed-to-be-a-genius/articleshow/6189283.cms )

Tathagat Avatar Tulsi was born after kathor tapasya (extensive meditation) and well planned sex. As an unborn child, Tathagat overheard his father talking about the Schrodingers equation with his wife from the womb. This kind of practice is common in India. When father Tulsi was about to explain the relativistic corrections, he realized surprisingly that his wife was fast asleep and stopped expounding on the equation further. As a result, baby Tulsi was left at a hairs distance from understanding the equation and achieving instant martyrdom.

Growing up is never easy for child prodigies. Jealousy is common place and the less gifted always try to pull you down. I was always jealous of the fellow in school who could curl his tongue in a W shape and touch the tip of his nose or the dude at the back who could approach a girl and talk to her for more than 10 seconds without stumbling. If tongue curlers and ear movers could generate so much jealousy and hatred in a fellow human being, I wonder what the kids at the kindergarten felt like when they spotted their classmate reading the Brief History of Time while they were still stuck with D for Djibouti and K for Knom Penh. If it were me, I would have done what “we people” like to do best - Blown myself to smithereens. Shudder.

As the article mentions, Tathagat according to a hindu dictionary of names means a child with a quick mind and an ability to accomplish a great deal in a short period of time. Given the way he is going, it seems like the man has a massive shortage of time. The guy is so fast , it makes nuclear fission look like nuclear fusion (ha ha ha) If he keeps exhausting all known science to humans and solves all unanswered problems, I wonder what he’ll be left with to accomplish by the time he is 25 ? Maybe he should get involved with Balika Vadhu, that’s a good time killer.

No matter what the critics say, I think this man has raised the bar for all us and set a great example for the current generation – a true global ambassador. We shall all conceive programmed genius male children in the future.

Kahaan hain ?

2010-07-11T09:15:00.000-07:00

Yeh masnui chiraag ko ab bujhaa do
woh noor-e-nujoom woh anwar-e-ilaahi kahaan hain
Yeh sarv khad imaaraton ko pabajaula rakho
Woh ku-e-yaar woh ahl-e-ishq kahaan hain
Yeh kaar guzaari me kyaa rakhaa hain
Woh khaak bhar sar woh chaak-e-daaman kahaan hain
Yeh aashiqon ke andaaz pe karta hoon tanah
Woh lahu-e-jigar woh jurm-e-mohabbat kahaan hain
Yeh maikhaane me jaam ki hain na kami lekin
Woh mast-e-khumaar woh jasbah-e-junoon kahaan hain
Yeh rakht-e-safar ka dumsaaz mere siwa kaun hain
Woh ahl-e-wafa woh aatish-e-khwaar kahaan hain..

Genesis

2010-04-11T07:43:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to a person LIVING or dead is purely coincidental. The material has been inspired by several works of fiction.

In the beginning, much before the existence of the cross currency basis swap, after He created heaven and earth, the seas, the fire and the mountains, God created the chicken, the cow and the pig (also known as The Barbeque Trinity. Humans would much later create the holy trinity consisting of Snoop Dogg, Eminem and 50 cent to exert their supremacy on the world in what is known as one of the greatest con jobs of all time) . And then God created man in his own image and named him “Julian Ulmer” and placed him in the garden of Eden. And the lord God said to the man, “Of every tree of the garden, thou mayest freely eat. But the tree of knowledge and wisdom thou shalt not touch. Yadda yadda yadda“

Anyway, Julian enjoyed himself for a while running naked in the garden. He was enthralled by his Master who created the trees , the flowers, the sparkle of dew on bushes, the rainbow , marijuana and plenty other things ALL IN 6 DAYS.( To understand and appreciate the enormity of this feat, one should note that mankind came up with the basic latex condom only in 1920, a full 2000 years after queen Cleaoptra was railed by more than 60000 men during her lifetime )
But one day Julian became lonely and desperate. “God” he said “I feel wretched. I need a companion” .

“A companion ? Big fucking deal “ said God “You got it”

And so God created a companion for him. “Do you know who this is ?” asked God.

“let me guess” said Julian. “You made another beast? A cougarrrr !!! ”

“No fuckface” said God. “This is the worlds first woman. I’ll call her Hitomi Yasuoka. Sounds japanese but who the fuck cares at this point in time. Now I am going to leave you two alone and I want you to do what comes naturally”

The following morning God said to julian. “Yo, so what happened last night ?”

“Well, what do you expect when a naked man and a naked chick are left by themselves”

“You mean…?"

“Yup, we climbed on top of a tree and counted stars. We plucked the finest fruit and drank from the stream”

“And ?”

"And we lay on the grass and watched the sun rise. Together”

“Dude man…well, let me give you a hint. Man needs love and devotion. He needs something to exert himself every waking hour. Something to worth living for. You cannot just dick around climbing trees and plucking fruit. Give me a break, BE A MAN”

So Julian went back to Hitomi and began the first of a series of human experiments. What is it that could lead to gratification and ecstasy. What is it that could be done every waking hour? He began by staring at her in the eyes for a considerable period of time. Although it didn’t lead to any gratification as such, this gesture went on to become the inspiration for “Looking in the eyes of love” , a B rated adult flick made years later,where a teacher takes a student as her illegal underaged lover after they – you guessed it right – stare at each other in the eyes for a considerable period of time.

They went back and tried several other things but nothing seemed to generate the ultimate spiritual experience. Chopping wood together , swinging off a banyan tree, chasing rabbits didn’t seem to help the cause. Until one fine day the lad was sitting under a banana tree when a fruit fell on his head and onto the wet slushy ground below. And suddenly it all became clear to him. There shone on his face the serenity of knowledge, of one who has found salvation and one who is in complete harmony with the events surrounding him.

He went back and practice the newly discovered act at every opportunity. And thus began “The Great Julian Onslaught’ which is discussed in several private circles and freemason lodges even to this date. On top of volcanoes, by the side of the river, in the meadow, behind the bushes, in the valley day in and day out until it became tedious as chippies.

Meanwhile, a serpent came in and said unto the woman. “why havnteth thou eaten the fruit of the tree in the midst of the garden ? Yadda yadda yadda” The woman could take the archaic english no more and yielded in to the serpents repeated pestering. She took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her boy friend with her; and he did eat.

This ofcourse enraged the lord God and he went red with anger. He summoned both of them and said unto them “ I’m mighty pissed with your behaviour. And because I’m lord God, I shall have to inflict punishment upon you. “

And thus the lord created suffering, men with brown skin, cholera, William Shakespeare and Pussycat dolls.

The Song Remains the Same

2010-03-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

It is often said that enlightenment can be reached through asceticism and a complete rejection of the body and physical desires. Once upon a time I aspired for such greatness. To dress myself in rags, take the barest sustenance necessary to preserve life, adopt the starved and beaten appearance, awaken my innermost soul and bring this GODDDAAMMN chain of karma and rebirth to a FCKIN end.

Then I heard a voice and an icy chill stole over me - “Teri maa ne barson rotiyaan bel bel ke tujhe padaya, likhaya, bada kiya (your mom has spent years kneading bread and raised you) " with blurry images of a frail woman at a distance "and this is how you pay back? Son, there is more to life than chasing bees and chewing on rocks. You are missing out on the Korean barbecue. And also Japanese p----”

I became a banker instead.

Now, it is a common misconception that bankers are conceited, mean people who rob millions of their daily bread. That they are greedy, incompetent, reckless, white collar, criminal executive scumbags - “gareebon ka khoon choos chooske khud ke liye Rolex ki ghadi aur Rayban ka chashma khareedne waale” type. No Sir.

They are instead peaceful people (smiling gently inwardly). One can recognize a banker by his complete peacefulness of demeanor, the stillness of his form and the sparkle in his eyes Speaking soft, considerate words with the voice carried to the listeners like a dandelion parachute ball floating in gentle breeze. They do not boast about their cleverness and wisdom, act with surprising humility and credit all knowledge they have to the Greek Masters and JK Rowling (of the Harry Potter fame). Men who have truly conquered the self. They deserve to walk on water one day and I’m sure they will.

In addition, they are a breed who conduct themselves with utmost sophistication in front of fellow human beings. They are the gallant knights who treat ladies with honor, respect and devotion. They take the girl in their arms, gently hold her closer, whisper softly in her ear, kiss her tenderly and then in a fit of extreme passion bash a random guy in the bar. (They could go out and slay a dragon but dragons are hard to find these days)

And once I joined the herd, life turned a full 570 degrees. I was asked to read up on Itos lemma. And Harry Potter. “Sajid my lad” said my mentor rushing down a mountain with a few stone tablets in his hand “you are pursuing a noble profession. This is the most wonderful, most exciting and most gratifying thing you can do -after Sex and a game of Chinese chequers over a joint”

Finer things are expected of me now. Posting weird photos with corny captions on face book is a strict no-no. Standing on the 43rd floor overlooking the Tokyo skyline and discussing such interesting topics as the devaluation of the Yuan ,the yield/risk ratio of a BBB- rated collateralized mortgage backed securities is a yes yes. Lady gaga, 50 cent and snoop D-O double G is no no. Tchaikovsky’s 5th symphony, 4th movement in F major – fully acceptable. Nose picking is …. I think you got the point.

And then there is the kandhon pe boj (responsibility on my shoulders). India is aiming for 10% growth rate for the next 20 years. Or is it 20% for the next 10 years? Well, whatever. If we don’t meet that goal, you are going to hold me responsible, no? Like they did to Uncle Greenspan. “Sajid ne apna kaam theek se nahi kiya to yeh naubat aagayi” you'll say.

So folks, I shall now go and pump some iron. You guys go contribute to the world GDP. Peace, love and empathy.

Its my turn ...

2006-10-16T02:30:00.000-07:00

He may look like your typical next door uncle (Remember the guy who refused to return your rubber ball after you smashed his window by hitting a six) but he is not. He can rout out villains and conquer the forces of evil and more importantly - gravity. He doesn’t care a damn if g (gravitational constant) is 9.8 or 8.9. It simply doesn’t apply to him. His super natural skills come to him very naturally. Dogs give birth to puppies when the guy stares at them (I don’t know how he does it but his eyes emanate some kind of weird electromagnetic rays. But please don’t try this at home). He never goes anywhere without his mace, brass knuckles, iron rod, hockey stick, cycle chain, spade, sickles and assorted ancient weapons. These are part of standard community distributions along with free condoms in his locality. They say that some girls fall on the road side and propose to him on sight. They feel he has a bitchy bod and a sexy walk. His Herculean power came into light when he once scratched his back for fourteen hours at a stretch. Men and women - they want him. And they want him badly. You may know him as the naughty thunderbolt (Translate that into telugu). And the man goes by the name 'Nandamuri Balakrishna'. Yes, none other than Balakrishna or fondly (?) called by some as Balayya. In the next few lines, I shall be offering some constructive criticism on this fella. I don’t believe in targeting someone blatantly without offering sufficient reasoning. Non gulties might not be able to fully appreciate what I'm saying here 'cause you guys haven’t actually seen him-and heard him. If you want me to describe him in one line then heres something - If Rakhee Sawant undergoes a sex transformation surgery, you'll get something very close to Balakrishna. (By the way, what do you call a male bitch?)

Let’s start with his dialogue delivery- An untrained ear might find it extremely difficult to appreciate the subtle differences between his comedy scenes and say, his tragic scenes - unless there is some form of musical accompaniment. And one dialogue that never ceases to amaze the gem of his writers - "Hey, I'm a man. At least that’s how I feel. I have the strongest thigh muscles in the whole of AP. Is everybody getting the point here?" And every once in a while some guy keeps reminding him that as a man, he has certain duties to fulfill- one of them being punching his own thigh with one tight slap. It amazes me -This whole "hitting the thigh" business. Anyway, the dance sequences characterized by his hip swinging moves, orgasmic expressions, and mouth wide open agonizing over the prospects of having to make love are at max intriguing. It looks as if someone is trying to poke him with tiny needles. And the lyrics that accompany them. Sample this. - "You are my maggi noodles and I'm your Sambhar rasam. You think I'm hungry and I think you are thirsty. Chorus: We are made for each other. “(Smooth?). Coming to think of his action sequences, the guy will put the Wachowski brothers to shame with his bullet dodging techniques. He can make the car go into a spin while maintaining a linear speed of 100 mph. He can make your teeth fall off by hitting you on the crotch.(Again, kids shouldn’t be trying this at home) You just have to see him to believe him.

Whatz this stocky, pudgy, somnolent, geriatric dipwad still doing in films, you ask. I-don’t-the-know. I just don’t the know. C’mon, there are a million other professions he could have chosen. He could have been a hair dresser, a shoe maker and with a little bit of effort, a financial analyst. (Balki in and as 'Warren Reddy' - “Doubling up every day"). Had I been equipped with similar skills , I would have become a proctologist. Where do these clinically depressed morons get the urge to drag themselves to the theater to watch something so idiotic? And adding fuel to fire, some of the pretty lasses who are made to grind seductively against this idiot claim in TV interviews that he is one of the most wonderful guys they have ever worked with. I can’t even think of trying to imagine what the others are like. Perhaps its not so much a question of urge than it is a matter of taste. And If it’s actually taste, then I think we need an armed revolution in gult land. If I were the government I would use all the nuclear power at my disposal to prevent people from watching his films. They can instead write some java code in that time.

I actually wanted to do a contrasting study of Nietzsche’s theory of Eternal Recurrence and Kant's theory of categorical imperative in this post. But then my friend Ravi suggested that 'Balakrishna' would be a better topic to write about. We'll discuss Nietzsche next time around. Until then, peace, love and empathy.

Guest Post - 1

2006-10-10T21:43:00.000-07:00

This is by the guy who insists on not keeping his elbows on the table.Plain lies he has written.People are hell bent on making me unpopular.

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Its a pleasure to snitch about someone in their own blog. I am happy IL CATTIVo aka Jupitor Jones(more about this later)has given me this opportunity(without realizing the consequences). There is a definite advantage in writing about your buddy from your school days.. you can narrate the 'Then, Now and Inbetween' stories.

Then:
A long time ago, IL CATTIVO joined Little Flower High school(Chhota Phool-badaa school). Frankly, he didnt make much of an impression with his Sandy Cheeks smile and teeth(from Spongebob Squarepants cartoon). Ofcourse, there was something we had in common .. both of us used to read Nancy Drew. I gave up. Not sure about IL CATTIVO. We also read famous 5,hardy boys and any other book that we could lay our hands on.In those days of mystery and intrigue, we, meaning IL CATTIVO, came up with a secret code language. Numbers and symbols to represent alphabets. We felt pretty cool about it too. And our signing names were Tom Cruise(TC) and Jupitor Jones(JJ). Ofcourse, We both knew IL CATTIVO couldnt carry something like Tom Cruiseso he ended up becoming Jupitor Jones.

Later in life, around seventh grade or so, a teacher came in and said that the seventh grade scores are what will decide our careers. Apparently, wherever we went people would look at our seventh grade marks and then give us jobs. we were supposed to get good scores or be at the bottom of the food chain for ever. I am still looking in the classifieds for such a requirement.Anyway, turns out the blog owner was good at acedemics and I .. well I wanted to be good at it. So, IL CATTIVO and yours truly went into super preparation mode. We came early to school to give each other question papers which we prepared. Lunch hour's too went to these exams. Of course, the enthusiasm fizzled out slowly and we went back to playing football with a cricket ball in the basketball court(really, its true). I somehow remember Shash being the goal keeper most of the time. End of the year, turns out IL CATTIVO was once again among the top rankers. I chose to reveal my brillance at a later stage in life. I plan to keep blogging till that stage comes.

IL CATTIVO wasnt happy that he wasnt getting any respect in Hyderabad and so he went off to Madras. I didnt have any such problem. It didnt bother me. In the next four years whenever IL CATTIVO called up and wanted to meet, it was in Persis(This place serves one of the best biryani's in town).Around my engineering final year, I went to Madras with my dad for my US visa appointment. IL CATTIVo booked the hotel and was ready to pick us up in the station. I was pretty impressed in the way he spoke in tamil to the auto driver too.So he did learn something in these four years in Madras. Of course I didnt get to go around a lot since I was too concerned with an other small matter..I didnt have an appointment at the counsulate. Thats too long a story for this blog. Bottom line, I managed to get in and get the visa. Didnt stay too long after that in Madras but I think we did eat biryani.

Now:
Last year, I met IL CATTIVO, 20 pounds heavier but the same Sandy Cheeks looks. He still boasts about imaginary girls he knows(all two of them!) and wonders what I do with my hands under the table. Things didnt change much. Jupitor Jones - you need to get a girl.

Inbetween:
Nothing much to say. IL CATTIVO spent time in between then and now thinking how much of stamp collection,empty cigarette box collection and salsa classes he would have made if he didnt meet me.

-Revanth Reddy

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Henceforth this guy will post regularly on this blog. And more people will be jumping in to share this space with me.Peace, love and empathy.

A Pack of Scoundrels - Part 1

2006-09-30T06:54:00.000-07:00

My previous post had most of my friends in tears (They got senti with the flush tank analogy). After they were done with their boohoo, they started asking me for more. Hence in celebration of my association with these people, starting from this post, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to all those who managed to influence my life and shaped me into such a kind and compassionate human being.

Vijay Kongara: Also known as the "ladies man" sometimes by people other than himself. Rushdie's protege since childhood. Known for making simple things seem complicated. Initially, I used to feel scared to converse with him. I used to think he was speaking in some remote European language. But then I started recording his sentences mentally and later replay them in slow motion to figure out what he is saying, a trick which everybody who watched the DPS MMS clip are familiar with. But waiters in irani cafes across Hyderabad could never pick up that trick. One of the chaps who never forgets to give me a treat on his birthday. He is now working in a tea centre in Chennai. And he writes code during his spare time for an MNC.

Jasmine Shah (Male): Dexterous with the badminton racquet and the toothpick. What Schumacher did it with his super cool Ferrari-RTZ-234-435-120, Jas did the same with his Bajaj Priya- nineteen hundred and seventy two model registered in the ancient town of Silvassa, Dadra and Nagar Haveli, India.(To spot this on the Map, just make sure you look carefully under a microscope. Jo sacchhe dil se dhoondte hain, unhe kuch bhi miltaa hai) When I was told that a certain "Jasmine Shah" is going to be my roommate in college, I was expecting a cute little thing wearing braces and hair clips with the nails polished and the feet pedicured.But instead, I saw some big brawny freakazoid wearing a friggin smile and munching potato wafers in my room. Apparently, the two guys in my room had occupied the window side cots leaving the one in the middle for me. *&^%$#@ . My dad had later told me that this one seemed like a nice guy. Poor dad of mine. He's become old and he has lost his sense of what is good and what is bad. People tell me that he is a good sportsman. I think Schumacher is better. Winnie the Pooh remains his favourite character till date. Abhi iska cigarette ka dhanda hai. And I think theek thaak kamaa leta hai.

Revanth Reddy: I owe my crappy writing to him. I remember, he had asked me to cowrite a play along with him back in school- called "An Interview". The play was later termed as a big disgrace to theatre. It was an assortment of roadside jokes and dirty one liners plagiarized from films. But ever since then, I continued making artificial attempts at writing but with no luck whatsoever. If not for him, I would have been doing something more meaningful in my spare time - stamp collection, empty cigarette box collection , salsa etc., He was very particular about his table manners. He made sure he never kept his elbows on the table while eating. But I'm not very sure where he kept them though. He carries himself off with great elegance and has this sense of cool all over him. Like for example he doesnt care a damn if some nincompoop from back school starts writing mean things about him and posts it on his blog. Now he is in the US happliy munching his Lasagne without scratching his plate.

Rahul Reddy: An analytical thinker. From Rakhee Sawant's costume selection to Upen Patel's Hindi accent, he can give you tailor-made analytical answers for everything. He once started explaining me how it all runs in his family, how his grand father and great grand father were studs and hence the fact that he is a stud shouldn’t be taken as a big piece of amusing information but as a natural extension of inheritance. And a la Stanley Kubrick - he too has radical ideas. He feels pornographic films lack good production quality. If made properly-with a good background score, subtle art direction and an innovative screenplay and then marketed using appropriate channels, he thinks he can capture a big market. I have been begging him for a role but he seems to be having someone else in mind. He tried playing football for sometime but somehow he could never make it big there. He is now sitting on top of my head.

Sheetal Chawla: She thinks she is good-looking. And I being a very accommodating friend and a well wisher, let her think as she wishes. After all, everybody is entitled to an opinion. So what if she has this big scar on her forehead, a fat mole on her cheek, an eternally running nose and a freaky smile, dil ki to acchhi hai.One of the many girls I know (all two of them) who is not THAT stupid. She can dance, she can sing, she can play. But so can I. And unlike other girls I know(You know, all two of them), she can cook food. But so can I. The first time I met her, she told me she owns eighteen pairs of sandals. What was I expected to make of that? Anyway, she also thinks John Abraham is the second most sexiest guy on this planet. And before you guys start asking me her phone number, let me tell you that she is committed to this other guy who I understand has written a slightly better testimonial for her. She is now pursuing a course in management.

As you can see, this by no means can be a complete list of people who shaped me into a kind and compassionate human being. I tried to select a decent mix (school, college, work, gultie, non gultie). Those of you, who don’t find their names in the list above, please do not worry. I have similar feelings for you. This is an ongoing process. As and when I get time (which I do seem to have a lot), I'll keep posting more such crap. Now you guys go and take care, while I go and pump some iron. Peace, love and empathy.

Orkut

2006-09-18T02:07:00.000-07:00

Some may say that life without friends is like a tree without blossom and fruit, a shower without a soap, a jeans without a back pocket, a trouser without a zipper, hindware without a flush tank - whatever. Basically life without friends sucks. Just like Monica Lewinsky. But thats a different matter altogether. Now where were we? Monica Lewinsky? No, friends.. Yes right, friends.And so a young companionless man called Orkut Bayonkotten ( with a double dot over the second o - You know I'm a man of synctactical(sintactical? syntaktical? cinktatatikal ?) excellence..) mused, deliberated, pondered, huffed, puffed with his computer and came out with this website that took the world and especially software firms and engineering colleges across India by a blizzard . Orkut - the latest breakthrough of the world wide web - a gift to mankind - and the womankind. Nowhere are the successes of "Let me show you how many friends I have" movement been more evident than on Orkut. From the Rahul Reddy's to the Gautam Singhania's to the Jitin Nagpal's, people are braving new worlds, breaking new ground and forging new relationships. People who were walking the streets of the nation, lonely and secluded, aloof and desperate, now have something to look forward to when they are not picking their noses or talking to their girl friends over the phone.

Ever since its inception, Orkut has managed to attract all kinds of people. And of course it has also attracted all immoral and disgusting bloggers or some immoral and disgusting bloggers or atleast one immoral and phew, disgusting blogger.The author had a chance to browse through quite a few profiles on the website in the recent past. On a first take, the snaps on the pages seem to have been chosen with utmost care and meticulous pondering "yeh nahin, isme main moti lag rahee hoon. yeh bhi nahin, isme meri naak thedi lag rahee hai. isme I'm looking too short, hmmmm yeh theek hai." And some who are completely convinced that any kind of personal snap if posted on the net will trigger angry reactions and violent demonstrations from the aesthetically inclined groups, end up posting some funny jpegs and pictures of film stars. And apparently everbody on this planet seem to think of themselves as sophisticated rebels.To cite an example of my complex and extensive internal investigation, one guys self appraisal ( what he thinks of himself ) reads thus - "Glittering prizes and endless compromises shatter the illusion of integrity". !!!!! What the F*&k was that? I'm sure this manic depressive is a plain, uninteresting, mousy, unattractive sleazeball who plagiarized these lines from some remote lyrics of the 60's in an attempt to attract some attention without really understanding what they mean. Glittering prizes? Endless compromises? Integrity? Bastard.

Jokes apart, the concept of friendship now seems to be geared towards a completely mechanical routine with the invention of more such "coool" websites.It is becoming tangible and quantifyable. Which in my view is sheer blasphemy. The transcendental connection between the physical and the metaphysical (as spoken by Kant in his theory of categorical imperative :-) and the horizon which is supposed to expand as we keep approaching it, seem to have been left far far behind. Now I seem to be sounding too preachy. But basically, I'm not against you catching up with your old school mates and chaddi friends who used to stay in your neighborhood on Orkut. But lets not stretch it beyond that. I honestly feel communicating by Orkut with your colleague who sits next to you isnt a very cool idea. It sucks. Just like ummm, whatever. Now hang on. I know some of you are devout Orkut fans who cannot digest a meal without peeping into the lives of all your friends and their friends and their friends' friends and the pictures of all folks dressed in tight overalls or who you think should be dressed in tight overalls or..(ok, this is going nowhere and creating embarrasingly low standards). Please dont get worked up. And dont send me hate mail. Now you guys have a good time while I go and read the interesting scraps exchanged between THAT unattractive sleazeball and his friends. Peace, love and empathy.

PS: I was tagged by Sudipta quite some time back. I'm supposed to pen five of my weird traits and post it here so that others can laugh at my misery. Next time maybe.If thats what makes you happy.

An interview with the vampire (A)

2006-06-07T00:53:00.000-07:00

Vampires have been in existence for a long time now. They are known to bite the victims neck. And Emraan Hashmi does just that. Biting the victims neck. Known for having brought a new sense of equality, dignity, respect and honorificabilitudinity to women everywhere, Emraan has risen from an imbecile little thing to an insidious little cult figure. Ever since God invented porn, the crackerboy has known no bounds. Gone are the days when children used to stare with their mouths wide open when they went past a Lingerie store. Inspite of widespread depression from volatile stock markets, oddly enough, people still find money to invest and later watch Hashmi's films. And being numbnuts of the utmost kind, we, as always, are eager to find out what this self proclaimed nincompoop is upto. Here is an excerpt from an interview with the man himself.

Interviewer: How are you dealing with the success ?

Emraan: (laughs) You are embarrassing me. Mujhe sharam aa rahee hai.

I: Very well. Now with the increasing number of films in your kitty, you must be feeling burnt out. How do you cope up with the stress ?

E: The only way to relieve yourself of stress is to enjoy whatever you do. In my case, I don’t have any other choice. I enjoy every moment of my work.

I: You have literally become synonymous with kissing on screen. Arent you ashamed of doing that ?

E: Its not personal, its business.

I: Hmmm, you are known to share a good rapport with women. Could you please give some tips to some of our readers out here.

E: Yeah, the trick is to wear clean underwear and carry a toothbrush in your pocket. That makes you fully equipped and you are always ready for action.

I: Great. Guys, note that point. How do you plan to move forward from here ?

E: dekhiye, main abhi seek rahaa hoon and like a good student, I try to improve my technique with every movie that comes in. Actually, I still havnt found what I'm really looking for.

I: What are you looking for ???? Jimmy, the dog ?

E: No... Mallika the bitch (Laughs)….Well, ahem ….let me not answer that question at this point.

I: What is your opinion about the Fanaah controversy ?

E: Fanaah is a bakwaas film. Not a single love making scene, no naked women and no Reshammiya. I don’t understand what the fuss is all about.

I: But the sublime portrayal of a terrorist's life, I think that was well woven.

E: Yeah I understand that. But terrorists do have a sex life. The script missed out on that point.

I: OK. Lets move forward. There is a buzz in the industry that your films owe their success to the music rather than the script and the performances. What do you have to say about that ?

E: Crap. You ask Reshammiya to kiss on screen and lets see how the film does.

I: My gawd! no. I'll come down the roof head first before I see something like that.Anyway, did you ever consider going for a different genre ?

E: Yes. I would love to do a film on Bhagat Singh if a good script comes my way.

I: I'm sorry. You want to be Bhagat Singh !!!!

E: Yes, why not? His life kinda reflects my life. He liberated men. I'm liberating women.

I: Oh, ok. I didn’t see that really. Lets now talk about your personal life. What do you usually like to do in your spare time ?

E: I collect stamps and coins.

I: Very interesting indeed. Really interesting. Now that it has become a fad, do you do any social service ?

E: Yes, I have started a foundation where we distribute clothes to deprived women.

I: Oh, that so thoughtful of you.

I: One last question. Emraan, will you ever act in a dirty film?

E: No

I: Thank God. Anyway, lets see what some of our celebrities have to say about you.

Navjot Singh Sidhu - Oye, bas kar yaaaaaar, bas kar.

Socrates : All men are horny. Emraan is a man. Therefore Emraan is horny.

Rick Blaine : We all try. Emraan succeeds.

Charles Darwin - See, I told you.

Morpheus : Emraan, I have spent my entire life looking for you. Look, I have pills for you. Red, blue, green, orange, purple. And I have the white pill too.

Salman Rushdie : The young man is basking pleasurably in these conflicting and harmonious mirages, drifting slowly up towards consciousness, which would banish both and substitute a third illusion : the present.

E: What was that Rushdie thing again….

I: Leave it…

When elevators get interesting .....

2006-05-22T03:15:00.000-07:00

Hello folks… The last few weeks have been really rough. Which partly explains the dearth of activity on this page. I have been working on my own version of 'Jhalak Diklaa jaa' *. Its going to be a blend of 'The Rover', 'White Rabbit' and of course Reshammiya's unprecedented hit number. You know, doing my bit to make Zeppelin and Airplane popular in rural India. And of course this way, I too will stand tall in the list of zealous rip roaring fans who have pledged their allegiance to Mr Himesh.

There has been a lot of learning too. I have been seeing a couple of gorgeous women swooning all over Reshammiya in one of his videos. I knew that love was blind and all (most of my friends have girlfriends/boyfriends and that explains it ) but now I know, love is DEAF as well.I'm sure that one fine day our man is going to choke on his own vomit and die. Who then will inherit his cap ? A tough question that.

Anyway, amidst all this hullabaloo, I had a chance of being a part of a tragic real life elevator fairy tale. It is the oldest tale of them all. Boy meets girl in an elevator. Boy and girl part ways. Boy gets back to java.util.Hashtable. Girl will someday get married to a hard-working, dosh-earning, lassi-drinking, groundnut-eating, hindifilm-watching, java-coding software engineer and they both try to live happily ever after.

Now elevators have been known to display a unique property. Just like the crystalline forms of tetra-methyl-tri-acetone-tri-peroxide. In India, they are the only legitimate closed cabins where people do not draw any conclusions if they see two people of opposite sex coming out of them ( Restrooms could have been a possibility but then God had other ideas.) I mean if the grand-aunt from Patiala chances upon her grand-neice coming out of a lift along with a non-female, the grand-neice will not be ripped of her chances of getting some "decent" software engineer matches. I think.

But more often than not, the other person(s) travelling with you is least likely to be interesting. Often, most of them are people who CAN grow moustaches. And it is even likely that you might bump into your project manager. In which case, the author avoids all eye-contact by appearing really busy and occupied by sending blank SMS messages to himself. But sometimes, 'sometimes' being the key word here, elevators do get interesting.

A few days ago, I was travelling by our office elevator along with a fine young lady from work. She didn’t know me but ofcourse I knew her. hee hee hee(I believe you know the theory here...). The lift has a mirror attached to one of the walls so that you get to know your "aukad" before you start playing with fire. I took a short glimpse at it and as usual realized that I need to go back to that daily regimen of running, kick-boxing, wrestling, mountain biking, squats and sit-ups in conjunction with liquid diet, boiled vegetables, vitamins and protein supplements. I thought. And then I wished she was held up by some terrorists in some tower near Angkor Wat so that I can get a chance to rescue her. bloody not feasible.

Hmmm, now what ? Obviously I couldn’t expose all those grains of corn which I call teeth.Too bad. I never had any experience at this kinda stuff. I realized that until then, I was only good at picking noses. (my nose that is). I couldnt even touch the tip of my nose with my tongue. Try that. There must be something I could do that can impress her. Women claim that "sense of humour" is the number one in their list. But then, as you all can see, the jokes I crack are rarely funny and moreover they are so damn long that I would need fifty such encounters to get through with one. So cracking a joke out of the blue was out of question. If the idea was to make her laugh, making funny faces and looking really ridiculous could have been a way out. But if that was the case, she would have already been rolling on the floor and laughing by then. Other ideas did come to my mind but lets leave it at that. No light at the end of the damn tunnel.

And then before I realized, the door opened in front of us and the long tiring journey came to an abrupt, unconsummate end. And the fairy tale ended before it began.

* - Let me know if you are interested. I'll perform it live when we meet next.

Am'bush'ed !

2006-03-11T10:21:00.000-08:00

George Bush Jr’s recent visit to India was hailed by many political analysts as one of the most significant moments in the diplomatic relations between India and The U.S. I was one of the innumerable morons who followed the historic visit very closely. I present a brief summary of the dialogue for the sake of posterity.

1.Prime Minister Manmohan Singh broke the protocol when he personally received President Bush at the Indira Gandhi National Airport. He was flanked by his wife Gursharan Kaur on one side and international actress Mallika Sherawat on the other.Mallika in a traditional Indian way of welcoming guests, pulled out her T-shirt, swirled it over her head and threw it at the President. Bush was overwhelmed by the gesture and immediately made the fairly significant political statement– “The world needs Mallika.”

2.The BJP, the left parties and Arundhati Roy staged a dharna in front of the parliament, all for entirely different reasons. While the BJP had nothing against Bush, they were infuriated by Mallika’s visit to Rajghat. “How can you allow a bitch near Bapuji’s grave?” was what an angry BJP spokesman had to say to the media. On the other hand, the left parties demanded that either Sourav Ganguly be included in the Indian team or George Bush go back to the United States. As usual, neither saw the light of the day. Arundhati had something concrete. “The primary offshoot of so called orthodox impatience which when perceived by different people in different ways manifesting itself, yadda yadda yadda.”

3.Bush donated a cheque worth a whopping thousand billion dollars towards the development of civilian nuclear sector in India at a film awards ceremony in the capital. However he categorically asked Manmohan (Prime Minister Manmohan) to set aside a small amount from the fund to buy some decent clothing for Mallika. He reiterated the need to strengthen the ties between the two great nations and invigorate democracy by joining hands in usurping non democratic governments.

4.Trade pundits were ecstatic after the historic pact and BSE sensex soon crossed the 10000 mark. There was a new found optimism and market was on a bull run. Nobody knows why. Anyways, direct consumers of nuclear weapons, F16/F18 bombers, uranium enriched triacetonetriperoxide, 400 round Uzi assault weapons etc., etc., finally have a reason to smile.

5.The President held a round table discussion with the top entrepreneurs and business men of India. “Poor” Mittal was also present. Bush lent his wholehearted support to outsourcing and firmly believed that J2EE technologies are the answer to all mankind’s troubles. The meeting came to an abrupt end when Mukesh Ambani started narrating all the 2745 ‘Dhirubai ke Sapney’ from his dad’s personal diary. Its time Mukesh stops taking some things very seriously.

6.Later in the day, Bush also visited a center for the bird flu victims in the outskirts of the capital. The media had nothing but admiration when the President shook hands and had face to face exchanges with an inmate named Emraan Hashmi, a move apparently designed to show support for and contain discrimination against the “bird” flu victims.(For more details see this).

7.Nobody knows what he did after he went back to his room that night. Extra precautions were taken to disable ‘star plus’ in his suite, lest he watches “Kyonki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi” and brands India as a terrorist nation on the next day.

8.Bush visited the famous International School of Indian Business at their Hyderabad Campus just before leaving for Pakistan. Another daredevil act of daring to think beyond the IIMs. He interacted with the students and advised them to follow their dreams, just like Dhirubai did. “Either you are with Dhirubai or you are against Dhirubai.” he said. The students uplauded.

That, my dear friends, is a brief summary of Bush's visit to India. I might be slightly off in my analysis but perhaps there is something to be learnt from my wisdom. Peace, love, empathy and social security...

The bird flew - A true story.

2006-02-23T04:14:00.000-08:00

Dedication: This post is dedicated to the millions of chickens that were culled over the last few days. Had this not happened they could have lived to see the special screening of ‘Rang De Basanti’ that is being organized exclusively for Maneka Gandhi and her animal friends. May their eternal soul rest in pieces.

HIV is out – avian flu is in. The ‘country’ is going to dogs. Earlier, they were asking us to avoid contact with women. Now, they are asking us to avoid contact with chickens!! Which means all those strange pictures in public toilets and city buses will soon feature broiler chickens instead of sultry women. A thought which makes us all shudder.

While experts have been desperately trying to ascertain the source of the outbreak, some believe ‘serial kisser’ turned actor, Emraan ‘I-am-the-man’ Hashmi to be a likely cause of the epidemic. Mr. Rajat Trivedi, joint director, department of animal husbandry said that there is no reason not to believe that Emraan didn’t do it. “He has a history with the chicks” Mr. Trivedi said. When questioned about the allegations, Emraan dismissed them as plain rumor, innuendo and gossip. He asserted that he is a person of morality, character, integrity, honesty, responsibility, spirituality, truth, ethics…Hey, is everybody getting the point here ? So many values, blink blink…Lets move on.

However, as a precautionary measure in the “interest of the people”, the Delhi High Court has ordered to seize the actor’s passport and quarantine him for a few days. Which means Indian cinema is likely to go back by at least thirty years to the days where only villains had the authority to have sex on screen and the idea of a hero was to sing songs at the heroine by maintaining a distance of at least 10 feet. As a direct consequence of this, over thirty four people were killed and thousands injured owing to severe mass protests and subsequent pelting of stones by Hashmi fans in northern Nigeria. Here, the readers must note that Nigeria has a vast market for Emraan’s films. The enormous success in the region is attibuted to Emraan's playback singer Himesh Reshmmiya whose blockbuster single “oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” is a major hit with the local tribes. They watch film after film for this beautifully composed masterpiece and you can even see them humming the tune on their hunting expeditions.

Back home, we must admit a kind of gloom has crept up all over and a sense of trepidation about the future has suddenly been magnified. Survivalists have been stocking up on masala papads and batata vadas hoping to stay alive until the next Valentine’s Day. Karan Singhania, a renowned industrialist cannot serve chicken at the party he is throwing to celebrate his son’s return from boarding school for the summer holidays. The industrialist who recently became the world’s biggest producer of quality toilet paper is dejected and hopes to make up by serving venison and has hired master nimrod Salman Khan to do the hunting job for him. Salman is reported to have been paid a whopping five lakh rupees and a years supply of Singhania toilet paper as advance, an amount which none of his films has grossed over the last ten years. And for the first time in the last twenty three years, the author’s mother refused to serve him chicken for dinner yesterday  As a side note I’d like to mention that poultry farmers and restaurant owners seem to be concerned too.

As responsible sons (and daughters) of this soil, what can we software engineers do to curb this menace apart from forwarding this meaningless nonsense to other software engineers? Simple. Let’s wait for Microsoft to release a patch for the virus instead of simply 'chickening' out. Ha ha ha… (Sorry, bad joke)

To see or not to see? A Valentine's Day Feature

2006-02-14T01:52:00.000-08:00

The good news first. I thought I'll be a little modest and put this at the end. But then I realized it is highly unlikely that you folks would survive through the whole post.This blog is now google ad-sense powered. Yes really ! You can see the ads on the top of the page. Some morons on google found this site suitable for conspiring against frustated blog-readers. Its pretty random stuff but mostly it is jeevansaathi.com. The fact that you are reading my blog explains it all.I won’t ask you guys to click them but nevertheless, I would like to inform you that I slept ( alone) without having my dinner yesterday. And those damn officials are refusing to renew my ration card.

Well now for the actual babble. You can actually ignore the heading. That’s just a cheap gimmick to sell myself. If there was anything to be said about valentines day,I would be the last person on this planet to do it. Not that I do not want to, but it is more of a dearth of experience to do it. I'm more into the consoling my brothers( and sisters ?) these days. Romance is in the air, fragrance of roses and musk is tickling in the nostrils of romeos and bohemian proposals seem to be the order of the day. Yet, most of "us" are wondering how to spend the day without hurting your egos. I shall now tell you five things which "we" hot shot dandys can engage in, which those "romantic" brummels cannot.

1. Digging cricket pitches : By far, the most popular gambit undertaken by crabbed psycopaths. It might not be all that romantic to do it with your date but when a pack of self proclaimed des-premi individuals get together, there is nothing more relaxing than digging a cricket pitch. And you get exclusive footage on T.V which you can record and show it to your grandchildren (If you are planning to have any).

2. Picking noses : Imagine yourselves going on a date with that lovely lady on whom you had a crush but she is going out with that $#%^&* $%^&#.(Its not hard to imagine, aint it?) Imagine the plight of that $%^&* #@$%^ which he suddenly feels that irresistable urge to scratch his back or pick his nose. Well you see, we have a winner right away. So scratch away that back(or whatever you want) for as long as you want to. Meanwhile, you can as well lick that dal stuck between your fingers without fearing any malignant side effects.

3. Sleep : You have the whole bed to yourself. What more can you ask for ?

4. Catch a flick : I hear commotion all around. When watching a film together is considered one of the most romantic acts in this digital era, why put it in my list ? Well, the flicks I'm talking about are different flicks. You just cannot watch them with your date. No, its simply not possible. I'm talking about the critically acclaimed and award winning films that were screened in Berlin Film Festivel. Seriously, what were you guys thinking ?

And finally

5. Blog : You can give me a run for my money by starting your own blog.But heres a deal. I read yours, you read mine. How romantic ! I've become so cheap now-a-days. But blogging is cheap, easy and good time pass during office hours. Baaki time, you can continue digging cricket pitches.

PS : As a side note, let me know if you are friendless and looking for a shoulder to rest on. 200 bucks per person that would be. And if you are the sole heir to a billion dollar industry, you get 100% discount. If you are a non male, apply with a photgraph and biodata for 'fellow'ships.

Tinak ‘thin’ thin’

2006-02-02T23:35:00.000-08:00

“Pay for ten kgs and get five kgs free.” This is not ITC trying to capture the FMCG market by offering extra atta for the price of 10 kilos. (Though I wish it was.) In fact it is a complete antithesis of these kinds of expectations. It is VLCC coming forward in a bid to allure overstuffed butterballs who weigh atleast 15 kilograms (The figure being the outcome of the process of adding 10 and 5) and are in a constant endeavor to bridge the gap between the haves and the have-nots. The whole process of shedding weight is likely to earn them respect and recognition in society, a more positive attitude towards things, a zest for life and above all a gratifying orgasm. And going by the reports in the tabloids, VLCC seems to be doing ‘pretty’ well for itself and its customers.

Going by sheer experience, we all know the social stigma that is associated with being healthy (with due apologies to Obelix). Right from school days, nobody lets go of a chance to poke fun at the flabby ones in public. The sight of an overweight student by itself forms a reason enough, to plunge into a boisterous mirth. These guys don’t get invited to birthday parties, nobody wants admit them into their ultra-cool friends’ circle and they rarely get picked for the official sports contingent. When young Amit learnt that pretty Alisha dotes on slick, athletic sportsmen, he tried really hard to get selected into his school cricket team. After sweating away to glory, he was asked to be an umpire in an inter school game. Alisha, of course, wasn’t really impressed. I guess, Amit is now a chronic alcoholic who’ll eventually turn out to be a wife-beater.

And sometimes this leads to some serious repercussions from the victims. Girls resort to stuff like slicing away their wrists and banging their heads on the walls. This is done after dislodging all the stationary from the writing desk with one single sweep and then breaking the mirror with a paper weight followed by a one hour session of convulsive breakdown. Guys take to more serious stuff. Most of them become serial killers. And those who are too apprehensive of taking to serial killing, become blog writers.

This kind of social boycott keeps haunting them even in the later part of their lives. (Unless of course they know java and .NET really well.) Their long cherished dreams of becoming air hostesses, personal secretaries, bar dancers, actresses, HR and strategic growth personnel (I can see some of you nodding their heads in approval) remain largely unrealized if they aren’t slender enough. And those who are hired based on their skills alone, more often than not, become green with envy and sometimes jealousy when they see skinny confident colleagues - the cynosure of all eyes, beaming with energy with a halo around their heads. (I see all of you nodding their heads in approval).

Some, who are determined enough to ameliorate their wretched, deplorable bodies, head straight to professional body toning solutions. Success rarely beckons them. And in case it does, their folks, in an attempt to strike while the iron is hot, set up an arranged marriage before things get out of hand. Poor things. Its like staring at all the delicious cakes that are stocked at the bakers and being unable to buy any. The cynics on the other hand, sit at their desks and continue blogging.

History tells us that all the great emperors, warriors and knights were heavily built (meaning woh log mote the).And it is often said that we should take lessons from history. But I’m yet to find a youngster who wants to be like Akbar or Sher Shah Suri. People instead want to emulate cheapsters like Salman Khan and John Abraham. You’ll find most of them in gyms, spas, parks - jogging, running, jumping, skipping, screaming and banging in a never-ending pursuit of looking just a little bit thinner. Give up oily food and peanut butter sauce to fill the artificially created void right in the middle of their hearts. No wonder VLCC is a successful enterprise.

Huh, enough of glorifying thin, thinner and thinnest. Its time we healthy people take the reins and start framing the rules of the game. I’m not really sure of what exactly needs to be done but I guess you can figure that out (Note that a 'fast unto death' is not so much a valid solution here). I envision a perfect utopia in which, all of us keep hogging on double cheese burgers, spicy chicken biryani, alu paranthas and laddoos without really worrying about silly things like whether any father in his sane mind will offer his daughter’s hand in marriage or not.So please work for it.

The Metamorphosis of Layman Fashion

2006-01-23T07:52:00.000-08:00

I was born in the early eighties. Well, 1982 to be precise (Those of you who’d like a more precise answer can drop me a mail.) It was the age of Bappi Lahari. And unlike me, my folks weren’t all that fashion conscious. The thought of making a statement by draping their only son in an outfit rich in angora, enamored with extricate breton lace, designed by Yves Saint Laurent, and reminiscent of something revolutionary, like for example the advent of the guillotine or perhaps the rise of punk metal in Europe, did not occur to them. Instead I was togged in a very soft cotton fabric which had some dainty designs of flowers and animals (I can see some of you raising your heads and staring at the ceiling trying to contemplate how I could so vividly remember all this stuff. I was shown the pictures you morons! ) . Well, though I do not own a Bajaj Avenger as of now, I forgive them. And for the next few months I didn’t really have a say in my apparel. Baby caps, some ultra miniscule plastic pants and diapers. But let us not discuss diapers now.

And then things started changing. After gorging huge amounts of cerelax, my pitiable nut started growing. And by the time I was four, the classical tension between envy, desire, greed, demand and supply started to loom large before my eyes. The first influence on my clothing was my cousin Imran. That ass used to wear more of formal stuff like shirts, trousers and baba suits. (A Baba suit is a miniature version of a suit, the only difference being the “blazer” in baba suit comes without sleeves.) My wardrobe consisted of T-shirts and multi colored shorts. Well, as they say, the neighbors grass is always greener. And so both of us did an ultra loud whining act (You know, lying on the ground, violently shaking the body, emulating a cycling motion with the legs, and periodically letting out some uncontrollable snorts ) at our respective places. The result : A few weeks later, I switched to formal trousers and baba suits and my cousin started wearing t-shirts and shorts.

Then there was school. Here, there was no question of getting influenced by any superiorly dressed colleagues. Everybody was equally shabby. Uniform, they called it. We were all forced to wear navy blue shorts, white shirts, navy blue ties. And if you are the class/group leader, you get the extra privilege of flaunting a red colored badge with the letters ‘LEADER’ inscribed in bold. The white shirts lead to some innovations in the initial stages. One of the first things that was taught to me during my childhood was to draw stars. (My mom taught me to draw a five headed star and my dad quickly retorted by teaching me to draw a six headed star). Equipped with the divine knowledge of scribbling stars, I was all set to innovate, redesign and celebrate. One fine day, I took a few sketch pens and scribbled multi colored stars all over my shirt. I was pulled into the limelight immediately. “All the first standard students of SFS High School were talking about a certain Sajid Hussain who painted stars all over his shirt. This fact was however not appreciated by my teachers and parents. Slap! “Ignorance was bliss indeed”

When I joined Little Flower, things became worse. Here it was white shirt and Khaki trousers. I know Upen Patel and all look very cool in Khakis but back then we identified it with a traffic constable’s uniform. There was nothing significant we could do with it. Nevertheless, people kept trying. One guy came to school in a jacket without wearing a shirt inside. Some others would try chewing the lower portions of their ties and nibbling the corners of their collars. (Yours truly being one of them :D.) Some would tuck only half the shirt inside and get slapped by our PT Master. But the real thrill was in carrying designer accessories. After years of drooling in double shouldered school bags, it was time to make way for single shouldered bags. The cooler ones (who were mostly the taller ones) who felt embarrassed in wearing bags, always carried them in their hands waving them with the air of a liaison officer. A few used to wear monochromatic glasses and play football in the hot sun with their glasses on, in order to make sure the rest of us noticed. But this was the limit. Nobody tore their trousers deliberately or embroidered the back side of their shirt. Jean Pants, Cartoon T-shirts and Action shoes with lights were the order of the day. Everybody owned a pair of these. There was no big influence of Bollywood in those days. The heros of those days always wore pastel shaded shirts with the top two buttons left open. That never really appealed to any of us.

Soon it was junior college. A critical point in our lives. This is when we decide whether we want to do Medicine or Engineering and slog your asses out . Somehow my teachers had this impression that only people who don’t appear very attractive do well in acads. A time for transformation. A difficult task, especially when you look so handsome :D In this holy pursuit of looking very austere, like Ramu the good boy, I bought myself some loose checked/striped shirts, some well knit formal trousers and a pair of leather sandals. I would get into my not so attractive outfit without tucking my shirt in, neatly comb my hair to one side, go to classes and come back home straight after school.(I’m kidding here). But things weren’t all that rosy.

Bang bang ! Results announced and following the example of a million other people, I set foot in one of the million Engineering colleges in the country. Here there were all kinda specimens (namoone) from all over the place. But when it came to dressing, everybody was the same. Leaving aside a handful of self proclaimed dudes trying to make a bold statement by wearing fluorescent green shirts ,T-shirts with skulls , T-shirts with messages and transparent vests(this was after that Hirithik phenomenon), most of the lads moved in faded T’s that would put stuff donated to child relief centers to shame.(The studness was proportional to the amount of color lost.)Anyone who owned an outfit which did not have our college logo in front was bound to make news. And then there were people who’d wear the same shorts for a semester without washing. And let me not go into the brea’d’th of reprocessing unwashed undergarments but those of you who’d like to know more, can drop me a mail.

Work life….huh…Cash inflow finally. When my uncles and your uncles were in their prime, the amount of respect (izzat in colloquial terms) depended upon how white their shirt was. “uske kameez kee safedi mere kameez ke safedi se zyaada kyon ?” was the buzz question of the day. I’ve seen a million of them - The uncle from Varanasi, the uncle from Coimbatore, the uncle from Vadodara all,…all of them seem to have only white/creme colored shirts and black colored trousers. Back then only coolies and Rickshaw wallahs wore shorts. But software firms have an altogether different philosophy. They mention it even in the pre placement talks. “We are cool . We don’t believe in wearing ties at work. You can wear whatever you want as long as you wear something.” Meaning, you can continue to wear those faded T-shirts at work. Unless ofcourse you have other plans…………

PS: Anonymous comments are now allowed on this blog. Rave comments are welcome. Hindi and telugu expletives are not :)

Sykal

2006-01-05T02:42:00.000-08:00

Shashidhar Reddy came to school on a Sykal that day. It was a BSA-SLR - Ladies' model .I could never really understand the funda behind the basic difference between the mens' sykal and ladies' sykal then. (Its altogether a different matter that I still don’t quite get it ). So I didn’t laugh at him then. That doesn’t mean that I'm laughing at him now. But anyways it was a chick bike ( well, it was enough to satiate our bloated egoz) with a sleek frame, a side stand(which was a revolutionary concept in the post hero cycle era) and a bell that made a deep resonant ear breaking sound. It didn’t have a wire mesh basket in the front though( which again I don’t understand why the architects of mens sykal decided to do away with. And moreover the absence of this wire mesh basket created problems for me later when my mom decided that I have become mature enough and periodically sent me to the market to get vegetables ! ( sympathies accepted ). And since I hated carrying an uncle-style thaila to the market for the sole reason of avoiding some exasperated glances and embarrassing questions from my neighbouring aunties, uncles and "well wishers" of my family ( They couldn’t digest the fact that my family could actually survive on stuff that was picked up by me ) , I had a really bad time trying to pick up cauliflower and cabbage kinda things. I didn’t have that big pockets and it would be even more embarassing to carry these in my shirt.) Anyways coming back to Mr Shash's (He insists on addressing him as Mr Shash ever since he has joined IIMC…stupid fellow ) bicycle, it made all of us green with envy. The next necessary step that day was to go home and explain my mom how good a boy I had been that year and pester her for a new sykal. (ladies or gents I didn’t care.)

And the next few days were spent on my parents contemplating the consequences of buying me a sykal. Finally they yielded to my constant pestering on a condition that I would not engage in any stunts especially after being influenced by countless Balakrishna starrers in which the "hero" avoids head-on collisions with trucks by sliding underneath them.(smooth naa….). This was something that I didn’t really appreciate as I was pretty skeptical of actually following these rules .But still ,something was better than nothing at all and I immediately accepted my parents' terms and conditions. That evening my Dad and I went to a sykal shop and I hooked on to a maroon colored hero ranger (yes, it is the same sykal which Salman Khan rode in maine pyar kiyaa and subsequently became a super star :) The price quoted was 1350 Rs and my dad wasn’t trained in the art of bargaining though he had been with my mom for such a long time. If my mom had come with us, she would have asked the shopkeeper to give it for 350 Rs And if my grandmother had come along she would quote 135 Rs. But as these two stalwarts wernt around , my dad was stripped of his hard earned 1350 Rs and more importantly peace and tranquility for dayz to come.

Yes, I was now a proud owner of an effervescent hero ranger - mens model without a wire mesh basket in the front. As soon as I came home, I tested if I could pull the chain ( Remember Nagarjuna in Shiva ? ) so that I could teach the eve teasers of Hyderabad a lesson whenever required .But on learning that pulling a chain is actually tougher than mugging up Sumitranandan Pant's love poems I decided to give it up completely. And so I was restricted to plain riding in the hilly slopes of Banjara hills and occasional racing in the colony with kids from down the lane ( the bet being pani puris , singal (don’t ask me what it means, you need to eat it to believe it) , Mirchi bajji with onions. (More about the pani puri bandi in my colony in my future posts). Occasionally my cousin who we regarded as the greatest cycler in the world would come and teach us killer physical manoevres which none of us could even think of replicating ( And still his girlfriend ditched him. Probably there is something more to relationships than lifting the back tyre of your sykals in front of your girlfriends, I thought.) Thanks to my cycle I had become an expert in southern Hyderabadi gallis. I was familiar with each and every galli and little kids used to stare in sheer amazement with I zoomed past them and I would be puffed up with pure ecstasy.Mikalal Schumacher would also have had similar feelings I believe.As days progressed it became more and more acquainted with my man machine and I devised nearly fifteen to twenty ways of handling the handle :) Life moved on, days progressed into months, biology became even more boring, chicken started becoming more and more delicious, facial hair started appearing on Adithya's face and my cycle was still in a hale, healthy condition. A dedicated companion until class X after which it was time to move on. A time for something more powerful. You see Shashidhar Reddy now had a kinetic honda with him …….

A Passerby

2005-12-07T01:08:00.000-08:00

The gait, an upheaval of sorts
A melancholic deliberation
Snapped or slapped ?
A dejected swagger,
A life devoid of flesh, dead that is,
Alive-The sweetness , a test of time,
A test of clan, A test of time,
Swapped and swapping,
Lending an inch of panegyric
A life jaded, springs another
Reasoning against bounds,
The 'thing' that used to be-
is the thing that is………..

The God Reviews...

2005-11-30T23:06:00.000-08:00

People...I attempted a review of a film I had seen last week which can be found here.Yeah...A new blog. I'll be publishing film and book reviews on this as and when I keep watching/reading them.I couldnt get Amitabh Bachchan to launch my new blog 'cause he had to undergo an operation of the large intestine yesterday (I've been telling him not to hog all that junk food but he never listened to me.) And Salman (Rushdie) was out of town.Instead I had Chaman Lal do the honours for me.As for the review..I agree it is not very analytical but chill...Even Gods have scope for improvement.(If u guys are wondering why this ass needs two blogs when people are not able to tolerate one, well it is just God's way of testing your patience.)

A Fistfull of Purpose...

2005-11-23T14:47:00.000-08:00

Most of us lack purpose…until the day we are asked to write a certain 'Statement of Purpose' which by the way is insisted by every academic institution abroad in order to make sure that the prosective student is genuinely interested in the program…Poor things….What do they know about the plight of Ramu - the wonder boy ( Ramu the wonder boy is a purely fictitious character and any resemblence to any living person is deliberately coincidental) who was practically shunned by the society until he boarded that flight to the US…Everything in Ramu's life was predetermined…He would enrol in Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry stream in intermediate, join an Engineering college , write GRE, do an MS abroad, marry his maternal cousin and both of them would happily watch 'Kyon Ki Saas bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi' for the rest of their lives.

I happened to read a one such Ramu's (actual name withheld because he happens to have a brainless good looking sister ) SOP in the recent past.My Gawd....I was truly at a loss of words.Sidney Sheldon couldn’t have been more vivid in her description of you know what.Though I cant remember the exact phrase, it started off with an anecdote of why our man decided to pursue Electronics Engineering ( me adding fuel to fire to make it more spicy..;).When our man was verry smaaall, the tubelight in his house suddenly went off. Pappa couldn’t do anything about it, mamma couldn’t do anything and for that matter even the friendly and concerned uncle in the neighbourhood couldn’t do anything about it.Then our man weilded a Panoply , pulled a wire here, pressed the choke there, meddled with the starter and lo! The tubelight started working.Neigbouring uncle remarked the boy had potential to become an Engineer.THAT day…Yes THAT day our boy decided that he would become an Electronics Engineer and bring Roshni to hundreds of unhappy couples in the nation…Stupid fellow

Another Ramu had something to offer which was equally spicy .Something to the effect of being interested in pursuing research on Chaos theory because his life was in complete chaos.This guy's younger brother had lots of toys and he(the younger brother) was extremely fond of one particular toy namely, the Mini Army tank.The big bro was asked to repair it but UNFORTUNATELY he couldn’t.The younger one ended up crying the whole day.This episode inspired our man to become a Mechanical Engineer!!!!!. I'm sure the professor who looked at his SOP would have had convulsions and must have fallen on his knees feeble, helpless and devastated. Anecdotes such as these were coupled with adjectives like 'application, aspiration, determination, direction, mission and expectation...The chap sounded like one of those old hindi film heros who promised to pluck stars from the skies for their respective beloveds.(my translation of 'Aasmaan se taare tod ke laaongaa' :D )..Pataa nahee woh log itnee lambee lambee kyon phekte the? Those heroines would have been happy even if the heros had told them something more practical…like 'Gulab jamoon laoonga' or say 'Masala dosa laaongaa'...

Of Phillums and Flicks....

2005-09-19T13:00:00.000-07:00

The year was 1995....I was in class eight ; It was the time when we discovered an innovative way of cutting classes. Leo Club - a club which aimed at improving the society by providing for the poor and the helpless . Apart from this, they also conducted talent Kaampetitions every year to encourage the development of new skills , appreciate education etc., etc., The events ran for a full 15 days.. We were allowed to bunk school if we represent our school in these talent competitions ...Platform created....Situation exploited.. Because it was the time when we could choose to troop off to Public Gardens where the events were held..The place had hordes of boys AND girls from across Hyderabad escaping from school and two-three 'pretty' popular - only english speaking- svelte females...And people tried to outdo each other in their affected affection towards them. I got plenty of opportunities to witness conversations between hep guys from my school and the 'cultured' females....The conversations usually circled around Black Forest Pastries, croissants, video game parlours, Archies, Asterix, Nancy Drew mysteries and films...Nobody talked about sambhar rice, samosa chat, Chandamama and Chacha Choudhry. And when it came to films it was all Hollywood...."Hey did you watch Pretty woman ? Richard Gere was sooooooo cuuuuuuute naa" ; "Yaaaa re, it was a chweeeeet film ". Though I had been watching films since my early days of childhood, everything they discussed went over my head...I was a big fan of Akshay Kumar's Khiladi series that time....They were packed with action, stunts, thrills and titillation (Stuff which I later emulated in front of my mirror in a closed room) and each film would run for atleast fifty FIERCE weeks in Hydra-bad....But I didnt dare bring this topic in front of juntaa...I would better not horrify them and expect a "Sajid u make our eyes shine with pride " by describing how Akshay Kumar vanquishes the villians and liberates all the four leading ladies and their family members after a 30 minute fighting sequence...Life demanded hollywood to stay in the rat race...Until then the only english movie I had watched was 'Benhur'- A tale of God, Jesus and universal brotherhood....Guess it would help me procure a 30 mm thick mattress in heaven (assuming I would be going to heaven because I was told children who are obedient and help their parents go to heaven and I always help my mom change the curtains...)

That weekend I decided to add some sophistication to my life...There was a demand for transmuting cinmaa hall to movie theatre, paap kaarn to pop corn, tikitaan( The Hyderabadi vernacular) became tickets, soooper became classy and above all 'waaching a picture' into 'catching a flick'. And the second step was to find out all the ungrezee pictures running in town...I picked the paper and scanned the list...There were four...Three of them were unsuitable for children.(I was a child back then....:-) So I had only one option...The film was 'Blown Away' a Jeff Bridges starrer and was one of the worst films in the history of mankind....I caught hold of some of my chaddi friends and convinced them that this would be a better watch than DDLJ (now DDLJ was released that weekend). And so off we went to get blown away. The theatre had about fifty odd people .I believe they had no where else to go....When the film started, I started concentrating hard...very hard to comprehend the dialogues...These native english speakers have an unusual knack for speaking really really fast..:-( What to do...There were no sub-titles either...And after about 15 minutes I just turned around to see what the others were upto.....One of them was trying to achieve perfection in tying his shoelaces, one was staring DEEP into his watch hoping for some miracle to happen, one constantly switched between wiping and polishing his specs and making his tongue traverse the insides of his cheek. I wished I was bit by a venemous snake just to stay in a state of coma until the movie ended...Neways we ended up sitting through whole of it. When we came out I asked one of them.."How was the movie ?" ...pat came the reply..."I THINK it was good"....My first authentic Hollywood movie...An unavailing effort at getting to my feet; Anguished and helpless in the clutches of a dream...

However the week after that we watched DDLJ...A bombshell of a film and a hell of an entertainer...I was showered with vituperations from all those guys who were made to relinquish this for some stooopid movie...So it was back to Akshay Kumar and Sallu bhai...And english only if it starred Aarnold or Jackie Chan with all the dishum dishum and Ghibba Ghib... Later when I entered college, I realized that each film industry has its own appeal thanks to a whole bunch of film appreciating gang in my wing. We watched everything (except ofcourse a certain mallu genre starring the famous u know who....) - Hollywood for its sheer elegance and originality, Hindi films for their charm and entertainment value and of course our very own telugu cinemas for their mass appeal and regional idolatory. Depending upon on our undulating moods, we chose our films and favourite actors...Well, if I were given a choice to choose between Priety Zinta swinging away to glory on a swing laden with flowers in the heart of punjab and Nicole Kidman sporting a Virginia Woolf outfit in an ultra sophisticated and demanding role , I would go for Priety...:D So Priety, if you are reading this, just chill....This is just a blog....

PS: Very soon I would be coming up with my own review of a path breaking film of our times....
viz Pulp Fiction...

The Rain Was Raining

2005-08-09T00:45:00.000-07:00

Yes.The rain was raining.And it hit the people hardly :-) Boyfriends got slapped for not being able to pick up their friends on time(I think).Mummies and aunties started praying rigorously for the rains to stop so that the shooting of their favourite soap 'Kahaani Chudelon Ki' didn’t get delayed further.Apparently the shooting was put on hold because the lead character 'The Baap' ,the lead charectress 'The Maa' and all kinds of assorted chintu-pintus who decided to try their hand at acting after being unable to clear the engineering entrance exam in their respective states, couldn’t make it to the sets because of heavy rains in Mumbai.Project Leader Veer Pratap Singh's dream of going home was shattered yet again as he got stranded in the dense traffic.He got so pissed off that he turned his car when he was halfway through and headed back to office.I'm so sorry for the prospective Zaara Hayat Khan because shes gonna have to clean up all the cobwebs that have been lying there for months. The roads were jam packed, autowallahs were hurling their favourite bitchy swears at each other, cars acquired new dents,RTC drivers were desperately trying to somehow lead their bus to its "final destination". And while the world was watching stale 'Kyonki' episodes in sheer horror,I,Sajid Hussain, a sensible man, decided to go out and have a chicken Biryani.

Of all the things in all the towns in all the worlds, why chicken biryani?Because thats what the soul of a true Hyderabadi is made of :D..No matter how much you try to impress your non male friend(s) by ordering a Lasagne at an Italian joint or a Fajitas at an exotic mediterranean restaurant along with garlic bread and iced tea(The more vaguely sounding dishes you order,the more smarter you are supposed to be) and displaying your artistic skills at the fork and the knife and if the situation demands, a pair of chopsticks(obviously if she likes chinese food then your favourite dish would be 'Chow Hu Ki Fang' - something which you've tried a night before along with your chaddi friend and got the name by heart.), it is chicken biryani that gives us all the final kick.It is spicy, it is hot, it is filling, it is cheap,it is nutritious and above all it is tasty.And most of all you dont need any stimulating ambience(pronounce it whatever way u like,I dont care) to enjoy it.You just need an empty stomach, fifty rupees and a complete disregard for your waist.

Well,sorry for diverting but where was I?Oh I repeat - while all the women bit their nails anxiously awaiting for a fresh episode of 'Kahaani Chudelon Ki' where the fate of the affair between Rahul Singhania who came back from the U.S after completing his M.B.A to manage his dad's beedi factory and the absolutely flawless Seema Arora(meaning she has all the good qualities expected from an ideal Indian girl like maa-baap ke charan choona, mehmaano ko chai baatna etc., etc.,) would be decided ,I set off on an arduous journey on a rainy day through the thick of the Hyderabadi traffic on my kinetic honda to a place called Bahar - a small,inexpensive Irani food joint on the way to Hyderguda.After an exhilarating journey with the usual stopping at the signal and non signal points and flashing a 180 degree smile at chicks stopping right beside you and receiving back a 'Hmmmpf' along with a terrible stare(The trick always seems to work with Hrtitik Roshan and John Abraham but not with me...All those claims made by these toothpaste companies in their ads arent true I tell you..) I finally arrived at the restaurant.The place cannot boast of any exotic interiors,nor do they play Floyd and Doors, a charecteristic not appreciated by most of the funkey dudes out here.They just serve good food.Also you dont have to apply talcum powder before heading to this place because you are highly unlikely to come across anyone good looking here.Remember,all those chicks have crowded around Sanjay Singh who is ordering mashed potatoes and french salmon at Fusion 9.Neways I ordered a portion of you know what,hogged and hogged,had a glass of lassi and chabaoued a hyderabadi isweet paan.Happy and satiated,I headed home. (An abrubt ending aint it?)

So if you are a non veg eating narcissist who doesnt mind growing a pot belly, you know where to head when you feel hungry the next time.

This Day, That Year.

2005-06-21T18:50:00.000-07:00

It was like any other day.Unlike the birth of the other eminent personalities, this one was not marked by any unusual and extraordinary happenings in the world.There were no wise men from the far east to visit me.The stars shone normally. There was no solar eclipse.There were no Saas-Bahu soaps on T.V .Nostradamus couldnt prophesize me.John Lennon was killed by a madman that year though.(i know what you are thinking...'Ek gayaa to ek aayaa'. :D) However it didnt begin on a very happy note.I was born naked and wet.And then I was spanked on my butt.Gosh! Have a heart people!! And people all around started giggling and smiling and exchanging complements .Poor things..they didn’t know what was coming.But paradoxically the world has been a better place to live in ever since.

I grew up by feeding on plants and animals.My folks periodically reminded me that to survive in this dog eats dog world,you need to work hard .Now this was something that I couldnt really appreciate.They had a hard time trying to teach me the English alphabet.'A' for apple they said and I didnt let them rest in peace until they gave me an apple.And similarly 'B' for ball.And they let the teachers do the honours when it came to 'E' because buying an elephant was out of question. However the teachers conned me by saying 'E' for egg-Something which I hated bigtime.Very soon I was encumbered with the exploits of Jack n Jill, little Johnny, Baba black sheep etc., etc., And year after year I celebrated my birthday and kept putting on weight.I felt happy on this day - I would always supply a wrong figure to my mom and end up saving 50 odd toffees after distributing the rest(hee hee hee) - I was exempted from doing my homework and wouldnt need to stand out of the classroom - My biology teacher would not slap me for not being able to remember the scientific name of a remote rodent which dwells in central parts of Zambia or some shit like that.And the birthday boy always got to bat first in our version of cricket. And all the neighbouring children would get envious of my newly acquired pink and yellow outfit.

Twenty three years have passed since then.My achievements so far - Breaking innumerable glass panes of my neighbour while playing gulli cricket,pouring sand in the petrol tank of one of my teachers scooty whom I disliked more than Kareena Kapoor , cutting classes in school and watching Urmila dancing away to glory in Rangeela again and again, eating supari in classes without getting caught, surviving a fortnight without taking a bath in Chennai ,taking a 'u' turn on my bicycle handsfree, sleeping non-stop for 18 hours at a stretch---Oops quite a few, quite a few.I'm not that bad after all..Neways Bohr,Schrodinger,Einstein and the like have already accomplished all the stuff I planned to contribute for the progress and prosperity of the world-which then leaves me with the task of rescuing the world from one disaster or another.Something which Mithunda and superstar Rajnikant have been doing for years.

One more...

2005-06-06T11:34:00.000-07:00

Tum na sahi, malaal bhi nahi, yeh to paimaane me reh gayaa...
Fikr naa karo, woh zeher to ashkon me beh gayaa...

Arz hai....

2005-05-26T04:56:00.000-07:00

Dashth e khudrat ki misaal paayi humne is naazuk tabassum me,
ilm e khudrat chhipee hai is chhehre ki maasumiyat me,
izn e khaayam kiyaa hai na waqt ne, na shariat ne ,Sajid
hum gul-chin nahee hai, bas pursish ne, haan pursish ne...

Murphys Law

2005-05-24T00:46:00.000-07:00

The immediacy,the insanity, the exhileration, the horror, the moral dilemma....No I'm not talking about the America's most surreal and nightmarish military campaign in Vietnam, neither am I talking about the plight of the ideal Hindustani bahu in an Ekta Kapoor soap on Star TV who periodically breaks into mournful lamentations on learning that one of her ex-husbands is going out with her one of her step sisters.Its this thing which happened last friday at our firm which I'm blowing out of proportions to make it look more menacing..I aint the hero...Just the protoganist...A la Benhur...Here goes...

It was midnight...Ripples of electricity lunged through the telephone cables.....and BANG.....sethigs mobile played its blaring ringtone...A feature of the mobile phones which is not usually appreciated at such an unearthly hour.And I declared with utmost coercion ...Our workflow system in the head office is down....Bang!! Bang!!Bang!!I didnt want a mission..and for my sins they handed me one... A volvo bus was on its way to Nellore.Travelling in it was a man who was the master of a product of which everybody in the firm became a slave..unreachable through his mobile..Krovi and Yuga were crashing after attending the first day sessions of Sun Tech Days...dreaming,sleeping,sleeping,dreaming..Probably rehearsing some out of the ordinary act which they might be asked to perform on stage....And bang....I deprived them of a piece of peace or perhaps maybe a peace of piece...

The system which these guys had built started throwing exceptions.And people in the head office went frenzy over it...'Mai iske binaa jee nahee saktaa, jee nahee saktaa, jee nahee saktaa' Sounds like a dialogue from a typical hindi flick in the nineties right? ...And hence I had to call the folks who actually built it who were attending a tech fest at Bangalore....they asked me to look at the logs which i sincerely did...Unfortunately I couldnt make much sense out of it..KILL! they said..I felt like a class twelfth class student being asked to make sense out of Shrodingers equation..Apparently the process was utilizing 98% of the cpu and could crash anytime now....But then, It slowly started coming back to normal...lower...down....down...and it finally became normal...I sat for more time monitoring the cpu utilization...And then went home...But it didnt end here...How could it ? A sum of the remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to programming which despite our sincerest efforts could not be eliminated from what is otherwise a harmony of mathematical precision(with due apologies to The Architect). An intangible malaise was lurking just around the corner...Waiting to attack once again...

The clock started running...tick tock tick tock..things ran smoothly for the rest of the day there... The next day my PL kept calling me every five minutes...literally...And there I was sitting at my desk, reading the logs, monitoring the cpu and reporting ..The problem would have to be debugged before the trading starts in the head office...Krovi was asked to fly down to Hyderabad in the earliest flight..Apparently, the flight got cancelled and our man was subjected to 'Bhrastachar' on zee cinema at the Airport...Murphys law was in full swing..tick tock..The sounds of seconds passing on...An approaching inevitable daylight at our head office..Very soon the trading day would begin...And at when the clock struck 8:00 at nyc, the problem started reappearing once again..People started throwing in "Mai iske binaa jee nahee saktaa' mails..I started running to and fro. between the systems room and my desk..demonstrating my athletic skills...Later that night the football coordinator here asked me if I would be willing to play a game the next day...heh heh...Well anyways after my collegues pin pointed the problem as being located in the database, the DBA was asked to takeover.Fortunately a deadlock was located in the backend db which was later killed and things came back to normal...I heaved a sigh of relief...And after the deranged influence of that frenzied episode,I relinquished my hold on my usual self....u know what i mean...adios

The Crippled Warrior

2005-05-13T17:00:00.000-07:00

Mirth no dearth, ye warrior returns
Submerged in guilt, the kingdom beckons,
breezy at ease, he treads along,
musing, the fruition of a combat, long
Singing along the elegy of the arena

ignorant, not innocent, the peasants embrace
thy valour, an epitome of courage and grace,
hand him the sickle, ye shalt now reap,
harvest seeds of battle sown so deep,
Singing along the anthem of the arena

Spirited, not skeptical, he picked his tool,
dawn of a pursuit no time to drool,
chaperoned, in the valley, by the shepherd,
skills of trade, thy trooper learned,
Singing along the ballad of the arena

Sickle conquers sword, dishonour! dishonour!
an art bygone, the spirit obscure,
the midst of the travail, thy zest detached,
A craft unknown, withdrawn and subdued,
Singing along the elegy of the arena.

A cricket team, bag of chappatis and a matchbox

2005-05-01T00:37:00.000-07:00

Prologue
Ghoomtalakalagalagala.....I screamed at the top of my lungs,gagging up blood as the scream weakened...I was expecting a 'hoo haa hoo haa' in return.Well that was the code we all had agreed upon in case any of us get lost in the woods.A couple of my friends had gone for a walk and were found missing for quite sometime...No answer came...My voice grew hoarse and strained from screaming and my guts felt heavy and cold...A dense chilly wind blew over my face..A minute before, Sachin and I had encountered a mysterious trio carrying a huge torch.They flashed the torch on our faces and I dont know what came over them ,they started running across the flat expanse (It had to be my spooky eyes or my intimidating physique..:B) .And we darted in the opposite direction. It was then we realized that those two guys could have been in trouble.I started feeling a little nervous . Ofcourse they wernt wearing platinum necklaces or diamond studded ear-rings ,so the chances of them getting robbed were very low.And the subjects in question wouldnt really appeal to wild cats and cannibals unless they like bony meat...As far as I know only dogs like bones and I 'm pretty confident they could have fought dogs in case they were chased by them.Then we decided we would go back where the rest of the gang had parked and ask people to split and go in different directions..........

A day before - 7:30 PM IST, Hyderabad
I still wasnt sure if I would be going for the trip.Eleven of us had planned to spend the extended weekend at Mahabaleshwar.Our project was at a critical stage and me holidaying at a hill station at this juncture would be a bad idea.When I informed my neighbour about the trip, he let out a snicker.However my PL had ratified the proposal and asked me to hand over my modules to one of my team mates.And I handed them over.What happened later(after I came back from the trip) is a disturbing tale by itself which I shall narrate sometime in the distant future.And then I rushed home, packed my suitcase AND my make-up kit and rushed to the railway station.We boarded the train and settled ourselves in our allotted seats.There were uncles and aunties all over the place.I sympathized with them.Little did they know that this pack of punks would start playing antakshiri in a few minutes and they would be treated to our high pitched mellifluous voices.I too was asked to join the game.I'm pretty sure,the people in the neighbouring compartment had really horrible nightmares(like sitting on top of mount everest with bare minimum clothing or walking barefooted in a cactus field etc., etc.,) that night if in case they listened to me.The game went on for a good 4 hours and then we decided to crash.The aunties and uncles heaved a sigh of relief.

Dawn
We woke up at 5:30 the next morning and got down at Kurdu Wadi (thats Sachins village).The population of that place spiked by a huge magnitude.We reached his place and Sachins mom(henceforth referred to as 'Aunty') welcomed us. She packed a huge basket of goodies for our trip and we did the usual 'itnee takleef uthaane ki kyaa zaroorat thee Aunty' and she replied with the usual 'Isme takleef kee kyaa baat hai bete' and similar blah blah blah...Neways,all the dirty dudes like Jitin et al took bath and the ever fresh hunks like yours truly decided not to, and setout on the cab.We reached at about 2:45P.M...We had planned to go on a moonlight trek in a forest which could be reached only through water but before that we had to take permission from a certain local forest authority there.But the forest officer there refused to grant permission 'cause apparently a wild life census was going on at that time and he felt that the count might exceed if we were let loose in the forest.So we set out to a different, less exotic trekking place.We reached the place at about 6:00 PM.We parked the cab at the base, packed our equipment and set out for the trek.It was drizzling slightly and I had promised a friend that we would be lighting a campfire that night.We prayed to the clouds to go away...It worked!!!.Meanwhile Ashish got friendly with a buffalo and it wouldnt leave him...It chased him for sometime.Then with 'utmost' difficulty, we made our way through the dense forest and reached the top of a hill by climbing a tree.we felt like we were on top of the world.Even Edmund Hillary wouldnt have been more elated after scaling everest.

The Bon-fire
As mentioned before, we decided to light a camp fire this time by hook or crook.A few of us set out to collect twigs,dry leaves and wood.They were easily available(or in Jitins jargon availabalable)...We digged and made a huge pit using a tool belonging to the neolithic age.(a stone)...doublechecked for any hidden treasure we could lay our hands upon.On finding none, we arranged the leaves,twigs and the wood in and around the pit.Ashish and I got under a bedsheet and lighted the ensemble.Within a minute there was a huge fire.We danced around it for like an hour,took photographs, ate, drank and lied down counting stars .And then a few among us
started discussing patterns, axioms and the metaphysical.Unable to tolerate it, a couple of us decided to go for a walk.And they went...I however decided to stay back and take a nap but couldnt....Then Sachin and I decided to go for a stroll...We reached a place , a kind of plain land, and saw a bright huge torch moving towards us.We waited patiently until they came reasonably close .They flashed the torch right at our face and started running across the flat expanse..........

Eyes Wide Open

2005-04-15T11:49:00.000-07:00

Mai tau raaz e dil chupaaoon par chhipa rehne bhi de....
Jaan ki dushman yeh zaalim aankh lalchaai hui.....

Ever heard a fairy tale in which a certain prince Sajid is the protoganist?Well,here goes...Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess who seemed to have everything anyone could possibly want.She had a lovely palace,huge estates and everybody in the kingdom liked(I said liked) her.Yet, she longed for just one more thing--A handsome prince.She grew up playing and dancing and giggling, occasionally dreaming about her prince.And on her 21st(I thought 21 is optimum) birthday,the princess decided to try her luck and started wandering in the woods on her little pony.And then she came across a little wooden door she had never seen before. She opened it and climbed up a staircase which led to the top of a very high tower.She went inside the chambers and saw a handsome prince(ahem ,thats me) sleeping soundly(u think the roles have been reversed here..dont u?.Well )...At that precise moment the birds outside started chirping, the leaves rustled in the breeze and elves were dancing in the forests of Satyamangalam...And then....And then the most dreadful thing happened.The prince(again me) opened his eyes...eeeeeeeeeeeeech..... Whaaaat creepy pair of eyes!!!! She exclaimed...And saying that, the princess turned around and took to her heels....Neend khul gayee....Kahaani khatam.......A new day begins...time for a little java coding....

Hip brethren, fellow musicians, country men and blog readers...Gasp..My eyes...The only thing that stands between me and 26 denim clad spanish and 31 salwar clad punjabi lasses in resorte Cote d' Azur in a remote corner of Monte Carlo.However ,my folks tell me that I was born with medium sized eyes and an honest looking face(The face is still honest looking)..And then people started asking me to be more alert, look out for things and stop blinking..They grew bigger and bigger as I tried to fit the whole world into them.And at the same time the world grew smaller, thanks to rapid growth in communication technology...Miniature world...Colossal eyes...A Permanent adjustment...And I,Sajid Hussain equipped with the most unusual pair of optical sockets became heavily embroiled in fate.(With due apologies to Rushdie)..Well as Morpheus puts it, fate it seems is not without a sense of irony.God went mad with colours when he was making my eyes... Instead of bright blue skies dropping into my pupils, he chose blood red instead and decided to give Brad Pitt a chance...Half the time people keep asking me if I'm drunk... And the remaining time,they are nice to me.They ask me if I woke up just then.

And this comes with a free gift..If you havnt seen me staring then you havnt experienced fear.My signature blaaank stare has taken many a brave hearted fellow beings by storm.I have this unusual tendency to face an arbitrary direction ,open my eyes wide(as wide as they can get) and start contemplating about life, the path to Nirvana, its implications, my fictitious girlfriend and her prospective boyfriends. Once when I was travelling by train to Chennai, one Mr Chintu came up to me and asked me why I was staring at him and his wife.And the worst part was I wasnt even aware I was staring at them.And people tell me that when I do that,it appears as if I've been tied down to the rails and an express train coming at 300kmph is gonna go over me anytime or that I'm carrying a .45 automatic and ready to go on a rampage anytime. One of my cousins(actually my nephew but I do not want people to think that there exists a creature in this world who would call me 'uncle' at such a tender age.) is so damn scared of me that his mom threatens him by faking my presence in the vicinity...'Home work karlo munnaa warnaa Sajid aajayegaa....Khaana khaalo munna warnaa Sajid uthaake lejaayega....Woh dekho bhoot aagayaa...'Poor chap,he takes me for one of those villians straight from a Ram Gopal Verma flick..And I need to be extra conscious when I'm near females...I could be gazing at them unconsciously and I'm always afraid that some big brother or an ugly looking boyfriend of hers might pop up from somewhere with a few musclemen and bash me up with hockey sticks..I dont wanna get hurt you know...After all, if something happens to me,what will happen to all the chickens in the world?Think about it.Peace, love and empathy......

Canons to the right,Canons to the Left

2005-03-30T15:04:00.000-08:00

I was living a blissful life...Until they came...Some of my soothsayer friends had prophesized their arrival..In case u are wondering what I'm talking abt, my senior team mates(meaning mini bosses) have shifted right next to me...Pretty jarring aint it?One day you are happily dozing off after an exotic luncheon at the office cafetaria (I'm being sarcastic abt the food here in case u morons didnt get it) ,refreshing cricinfo every five minutes for the updated cricket score,pinging IndiaTimes for latest gossip on all the filmstars and fiemstarnees etc., etc., and the next day you find yourself surrounded by two radars.One day you are the sole galee kaa goonda and the next day you have Jack and Jill next to you.Well, I guess from now on, I gotta be really swift in minimizing windows.Reminds me of one of my evil neighbours at school...He once threatened to report my name to the teacher for reading a novel in class.I was reading some Nancy Drew mystery and Nancy was supposed to be a hot chick.I got away by bribing him with a Samosa .And dont you dare laugh....Samosa was a luxury in those days...Dont know if I can bribe these chaps.Lemme see..Like they say, all good things come to an end,so do all bad things.I no longer have to suffer the perilious journey from my place to theirs.They shall be enlightening me on the subtleties and nuances of development right here :-).
Alls well that ends well...

Random Babble - I

2005-03-23T16:05:00.000-08:00

The concept of 'uncle' has enjoyed an universal appeal since the days of I dont know who.The term 'uncle' has made the life of earthlings a tad too easy...All kinsmen are uncles ...I once had a mallu friend and every Tom,Dick and Harry and more specifically every Anoop Ivan Chacko,Chinku Kurian,Lizy Darling ,Bibo Vergese and Laila Kutty(In case you are wondering where you remember these names from--No these arent code names for projects used in Air Commando special operations-Neither are they pseudonyms assumed by performers in an underground bar--rather they are 'pretty' common mallu names) qualified to be his uncle/aunty.He could smell a mallu a kilometre away.sniff sniff....and once they met,they was no separating them..And mallu is the most disturbing language in the entire universe I tell you...listening to two ppl talk in mallu acts like slow poison...Hitler was unaware of this I suppose...All he had to do was to make a person deliver a lecture in mallu on the microphone....THUD THUD THUD....that would be the sound of the inmates of the concentration camp dropping dead....Back home in gultland,the scene is not that bad but is bad enough.Mom's brother,dad's brother, a middle aged neighbour, Shopkeeper of a kirana store across the street,dad's friend, friend's dad- everybody is an unkul, unless he uses Godrej hair dye(Remember that ad...)..Once me and my friend were caught crossing a traffic signal at a busy intersection in the city.All my friend had to do was to declare that the city police commisioner was his uncle and we were set free.He later explained the exact relationship to me...Well if what he said applies,then dear friends----Shah Rukh Khan is my uncle.....More about Shah Rukh uncle later....

Uncles fall into two categories...Nice ones - People who have tantalizing daughters and would like you or preferably me, to teach their daughters advanced math (People seem to have this impression that I'm good at math, I dont know why but why do they not realize the simple fact that I have commendable bike driving skills)...It would be blasphemy to talk anything ill about them.It also includes people who have raised creatures who declare themselves your friends and provide shelter when you are intoxicated and cannot go home...And then there are not so good ones...I'm talking about some painful dudes who judge u by their own set of rules.Our destiny is to continue on their personal journey and the expectency of spiritual progression.Their anxiety and unsatiating thirst for knowledge impels them to ask embarrasing questions at unearthly hours...like for example, asking me my wherabouts on the previous night after a hard night out at the pub is simply unacceptable....I dont usually lie.It does not agree with my principles.. But under such circumstances, to preserve the balance of the society,and respecting the well being of my folks ,I'm forced to lie .Have a heart people..Rules are meant to be broken and sins are meant to commited..God is merciful....All u gotta do is to keep reading a few verses from your respective holy books loudly after you turn fifty...It should be loud enough for your children and grand children in your neighbouring room to hear..So the next time you discover your grandparents involved in some rigid and tense "worshipping" shouting at the top of their voice, you can be pretty sure that they have sinned like crazy.Dont let them down friends.Live upto your tradition.God will forgive them and God will forgive you....
Peace, love and empathy..............

Event Horizon

2005-03-15T07:28:00.000-08:00

Aamaal ka talism hai nairang e zindagi...
Taqdeer kyaa hai, gardish-e-lail o nihaar kyaa.....

"Sajid....."I heard a faint voice.....I was testing a piece of software our group had written..I turned around and saw Sethig (pronounced Sethi jee...thanks to a certain policy of our firm to refer to people by their login names,which in turn, are derived by a particular amalgamation of the first and the last names, she earned her due respect in classic Indian Ishtyle...) laughing away to glory with her hands over her mouth...Shock,disbelief and finally hysteria showed over her face.....Last time I had seen Aishwarya Rai wearing a similar expression after winning the Miss World title.....Right beside was Krovid (Pronounced Krovi Dee...I know I know......A name like that would put classical psychedelic rock bands to shame....) looking aghaaaast....I went over to their desk...They asked me to look at a certain mail on his outlook....The subject said "It matters not how strait the gate"......I knew the sky had fallen..These brave words were spoken by the poet W.E.Henley...And now,again by me....And apparently I made sure these words didnt go unnoticed or unheard.....

One of my test programs had generated a huge set of mails and spammed nearly 50 employees within the firm,some of them belonging to the top management....I had forgotten to turn off the mail option which was one of the parameters in our program, which in turn lead to the catastrophe.....I had written some 75 testcases and most of them failed....God knows what would have happened,if all of them passed....And the interesting(forgive me for calling it interesting) part was,most of the mails that spammed the top brass were sent on behalf of Krovi. And he sat there smiling...I couldnt assimilate his mirth....It reminded me of Boman Irani and his laughter therapy in Munna Bhai...
Then our project leader made his entry....For a moment there was a complete silence, noisier than a cascade.I began to fall apart...I mean,I simply cracked all over like a piece of old furniture.I remembered the last time I received a spanking.I was in class eight.My teacher beat me because I spilled ink on his shirt.At that time we derived tremendous amount of pleasure thru' such innocent and asinine acts...What will my PL do? Will he ask me to kneel down with my hands raised up....or will he ask me to write "I wont do this again ever in my life" in my notebook a thousand times?? the latter was quite acceptable....Kneeling down in office in front of all the employees is not a great idea I tell u......Fortunately,he didnt resort to either of these...Contrary to my perceptions,he just came to my desk,went thru' all the spam mails,noted down the mail ids of the recepients from the header and later mailed everybody on the list,apologizing for the unintentional act.He assumed total reponsibility for the incident..Later,he came to my desk and asked me to be careful with the system in the future....I heaved a sigh of relief......
I assume I had been absolved. A lesson had been learnt.But only after the damage had been done.

It matters not how strait the gate.....
How charged with punishment the scroll....
We are the masters of our fate.......
We are the captains of our soul.....

The Man Who Killed a Cockroach

2005-03-12T13:17:00.000-08:00

Why am I Blogging?
An excerpt from a conversation with one of my friends.......

Sajid : Mere paas looks hai, charm hai, wit hai, brains hai, perception hai, reflexes hai, IQ hai aur........ Maa hai...tere paas kyaa hai?
Sajid ka Dost : Mere pass blog hai.....

Sajid ke aankhon me aansoo.....

And hence my dear friends I'm out here to seek that extra qualification to seek complete salvation......And by the way I heard pretty girls are falling for bloggers these days...Assuming facts , allow me to proceed.....

Who am I ?
'I am that I am'...Thus spake Sajid unto mankind....I heard quite a few historians have spent a career 'researching' on this phrase and have given different interpretations...I sympathize with all of them....For it is nothing but a certain creature belonging to the 'homo sapien' genus in the animal kingdom and going by the name 'Sajid Hussain'.

Who are my friends ?
I have quite a few friends.....Friends come with enemies and hence I got quite a few enemies too....My friends too, belong to the animal kingdom.......u know....caste,creed,race,genus aur sex ke baare me poochnaa galat hai....isliye kabhi poocha nahee.... Neways, If u think u r my friend,pass me ur url and I'll publish it on my space.

What do I do?
Interesting question.When I am not blogging I do quite a few things :-)..

First and foremost : I need to live to serve mankind....I need to feed myself in order to live..And in order to feed myself I need food...And none of the stores in my town give away food for free...And hence I need money...Money doesnt grow on trees....we need to earn it....And therefore my dear friends, I am working at a software firm in Hyderabad,in a way, serving a man and his kind..chain reaction u see ..roti, kapde aur cereal juices kaa bhaada nikal jaata hai......

Movies : When I am not blogging and not serving mankind, I watch movies...I have a pretty diverse taste sweeping all genres(Ah except one...I dont watch mallu dash movies)....I love flicks which rely on strong dialogue and non conventional screenplay....and thus I am in love with filmmakers like Tarantino and Kubrick.(Pretty girls....dun worry...Tarantino is just a passing cloud and Kubrick is dead) ...U should be seeing a list of my all time favourite movies in one of my posts in the near future....

Music : again very eclectic....all genres and all languages...In future, u'll be seeing comprehensive posts on my perspective on various artists and bands.

Reading : Personally barber shop magazines are my favourite.But I do manage to read some good fiction once in a while.And Rushdie's got an extra mouth to feed now...So I'm planning to buy all his books and encourage u too to buy them.

Sports : I cant lie...I play everything and am not really good at anything.. shud start playing tennis again...Sania Mirza u see................

What did I do?
I've been dwelling on this planet for the past 22 yrs,so the question arises how I've spent these years..Well more of that in my future posts.

Am I a bastard?
Apparently no.....I have two parents..........Both married.........To each other............

What is my lineage?
As mentioned above,I have two parents...They were a happy couple until the day I was born....Seemingly. they spent a fortune in raising me up and I guess by now u must be thinking-Poor things.... should have spent that dough on buying a buffalo and a few acres of farm instead...But as u know indian parents are unreasonably fond of their children and I guess they still have a ray of hope that one day I might be worth more than a buffalo and a few acres of land . I have a sister....who by the way isnt married....But I guess that is not going to help all the romeos out thr 'cause I know shes going to follow the Indian tradition and marry my Dads ugly decision.I have two grandfathers....................................

The Beginning

2005-03-07T03:24:00.000-08:00

Arise!!Awake!!