Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Ek Michael Ki Maut - Myshtery Rejolved

Choco recommends in shudh Hindi that I write about Rakhi Ka Swayamwar. "Web dainiki mein unke swayamvar ke barien mein chapne ka prayas kare toh hum use padne ka vachan detein hain." After that barrage, all of which I don't understand - who has the courage to say no.

I cant write much about the show. I have only watched one episode. A re-run.

This is how it all occurred.

I was surfing channels. I landed on this strange one. And then I saw her. She was dressed in pink. “Mujhe Aishwarya se bhi khoobsoorat brides banna hai” she blabbered.

The earth shook.

I cringed... puked... lost my appetite... then my mind… developed suicidal tendencies... screamed… jumped off a building... and died...

I entered Heaven. I walked around. I saw a Rakhi Sawant look-alike. Dancing.

Someone told me that it was Menaka.

I overreacted. I slapped her.

The Go-On-Darling sent me to hell.

I reached hell. I sensed respite. But it was short-lived.

I was in for a shock.

The devil is a fan. He is her creator. He named her Raakh-I and sent her to earth to recruit fresh ass-in-instants.

Now he awaits her return. He was impatient and angry.

I heard that she refuses to come back. “I likes Aarth too much” she tells him “All aarth-with-lings waant to marie me”.

I think she means earthlings. I also think she means marry. I could be wrong.

The devil, unable to take the pain of longing and separation, has taken to his bed. He is found there all day, roasting in a forever-melancholy mood.

He is now called the Dev-ill.

Over a period of time, I came to realise that the temperature in hell varied considerably. I asked someone called Atom Bhai Narakhia the reason for the temperature change.

He exploded.

He screamed that it is the bloody Dev-ill’s ass-in-instants keeping him in humour. Apparently, the temperature increases each time an ass-in-instants tells Dev-ill that Rakh-I is cumming. I think they mean coming.

Or maybe not. I don’t know. I was too busy getting roasted.

I got the devil to curse me and send me into exile - to the nether world.

Now this was easy.

I tried to explain to the horny fellow “Rakh-I isn’t cumming right now. Period.”

I don’t think Dev-ill understood. He was fuming. I had abused his Ash-wariya. He was in flames.

He went on to foam at the mouth and then promptly threw a fit.

I tried to get him to smell my slipper.

He spat on me and I found myself in netherworld - enveloped in the Dev-ill's spit bubble.

There I stayed suspended for no-time. Then one day after bursting the bubble with a pin (don't ask me where I got that from) and through a small window in time, I found my way back to earth. I came to realise that I was now a ghost.

“She has had it now” I thought to myself. “I shall haunt this Raakh-I to death”

I found her. It was easy.

I just asked one random Johnny “Oh Boss… Yeh Shaadi kidhar hai??”

He pointed towards Rajastan.

Soon, I found her and tried to haunt her.

“poo” I squeaked.

I meant to say "BOOOO." God promise.

She looked at me. She raised her eyebrows. “What a hots bhooth” she said “Itna safeds safeds aur mujhe pyar se poo bhi bulata hai. How cutes”.

“Mujse shaadi karoge” she sang.

I was shocked. She wasn’t scared of me. She wanted to marry me.

I asked her why.

“These facking Indian mards wants marries me” she wailed “They wants vergen”

“Please marry me bhooth. Please say yes. Yours my Shahrukhs and I ams your Gauris. Now come on byabye… lets do the marries”

Suddenly her mood swung again.

“I am pavitra bharatiya naari and I ams vargen… but no one believes my surgeon,” she told me.

Things were getting sad. I tried to change the subject.

I asked her if she uses botox

“How dare you” she screamed “I am a vargen.”

Suddenly I found her doing an item girl version of Madonna.

“I do not mean anything wrong” I squeaked “It was an innocent question”

“Then ok jaanu” she said as she fluttered her cute fake eyelashes “Yes jaanu… I use my botox…. every mornings… for the shits”

I couldn’t even die….

In short - earth, heaven, hell, netherland or Neverland (apparently Michael got a phone call just a few minutes before he visited his doctor)... there is no respite from Rakhi Ka Dimaag-pe-vaar

Monday, July 20, 2009

In Vino Veritas - Drinking to Death

In Vino Veritas - A short story contest... on Jason Evans' blog The Clarity of Night. Got to know about this because of Rohan.

Using the photograph below for inspiration, contributors were asked to compose a short fiction (or poetry) piece of no more than 250 words in any genre or style...

Here is my effort... Have to say that trying to keep the word count down to 250 words nearly killed me... in a week that gave me very little time to think or write...

Drinking to Death

Two young sweaty bodies in the throes of passion on top of a water tank of a high-rise rooftop - an inch away from a sheer fall and death. Bodies coloured and illuminated in blue fluorescent light cast by a neon advertising signboard.

He enters her with his tongue – exploring the woman inside her. Slowly, feeding her desires. She moans as he pulls out and bites the inside of her thigh, an inch away from where she wants him. He moves up. His hands replace his tongue. Fingers finding love.

He kisses her. Tongues find each other and dance.

His other hand reaches out, groping in the dark for the knife.

“Are you ready” he asks. “Yes” she moans.

He kneels between her legs and very slowly, he enters her. She feels him inside her. As she moans, he takes the knife and slashes his wrists.

Blood Drops On Breasts.

She closes her eyes and whimpers as he cuts her wrists.

He finds her wrists in his mouth while he takes his to her lips. They drink of each other. The taste of blood and sex – intoxicating the senses as wine never can. They keep stroking and drinking – immune to pain.

They had been planning this for days.

The stars shine down on their bloodied faces. Ruby red coupling with fluorescent blue.

The stars give way to the morning sun. He looks down at them with sadness and hides behind the clouds to curse and cry. Young. Horny. Stupid.


Tuesday, July 7, 2009


Something has come over me. I was trying to write a short story, which has been lying dormant in my mind since Adam was a boy.

However, the only thought that seems to come to my mind is… cockroach.

"Now, why is this dimwit thinking about cockroaches and then writing about them on his blog?" This, I must confess, is a fair question to ask.

Truth be said. I have no answer.

I have very little control over this dim meandering mind of mine…

Therefore, I cast aside the short story and write a blog post on this pet… peeve…

I convince myself that if my fellow bloggers can write brilliant posts about cats and dogs – Then I should be allowed the liberty to write about cockroaches. Cockroaches are, after all, the creation of the same almighty that created you, cats, dogs, and me.

Now, there are some amongst us who will argue, and rightly so, that only if I had a cockroach as a pet, would I be worthy to write with authority on cockroaches.

I would therefore like to point out that this post does not intend to sermonise about the virtues of having a cockroach as a pet. This post is about a little problem I have and a brilliant plan I have in mind to cure myself of this minor irritant.

I am terrified of cockroaches - especially the big ones with wings.

For some inexplicable reason, the ones that do fly… fly straight at me. There seems to be this peculiar attraction that I hold for them.

Now there are those who have had the opportunity to witness this. They have gone right ahead and formed a number of theories to explain this strange phenomenon.

Some say that it is quite possible that, in my next life, I am destined to be a cockroach. Or it might turn out that I was a cockroach in an earlier lifetime. Others debunk the reincarnation theory and believe that I am destined to turn into a cockroach during this lifetime itself. Wouldn’t that be magical?

Finally, there are those, who to my face, tell me that I am nothing but a cockroach and that it should not surprise me when I attract others of my specie. I have often wondered if these are the only truthful people on earth. It maybe so, that the world is nothing by an illusion, and in this illusionary world, I, a cockroach, look at myself in a mirror and see myself as a man.

Anyway. I digress. As I was saying, cockroaches tend to fly straight at me. When such global calamities strike and cockroaches fly, I tend to mutate very quickly into a superhero. I mean, I can fly and jump over buildings. My superhero avtaar, however, does not need a cape and at times can be found flying around with only a dirty red (and sometimes yellow) underwear. Much collateral damage is caused and many innocent people come to harm when this strange Superhero takes off – with a cockroach hot on his heels.

Now, for those of you reading this and thinking to themselves “what a wuss”, I would like to set matters straight and state that I am not usually a scaredy-boo. I do not, for example, fear scorpions or snakes or mushrooms.

I have, on multiple occasions, had the opportunity of close acquaintance with each of these creatures and have found them to be quite harmless if not friendly.

Then why do I fear puny cockroaches? This most pertinent question deserves a long and lengthy answer, but to cut it short and say it in three words ( I have been found guilty of many a long blog post) – I don’t know.

Finally, after many years of living in fear and many cockroach-human chase sequences, I have, after much thought, decided to face up to my fear. No, I do not plan to spend a night in a casket full of cockroaches. I do not intend to compete in Fear Factor – and lose my life to cockroaches on national television.

I have instead formed a simple and implementable plan. I will adopt a cockroach and bring her up. Yes, my cockroach will grow up to be a daughter to me. I will teach her to crawl, send her to school, protect her from insecticides, lizards, and cats, teach her to fly high, eventually get her married. I plan to grow old and die in the company of my flying grandchildren. Finally, in their company, I will rid myself of my fear of cockroaches.

And yes, for those that have got here and are convinced that I am nothing but a nut, allow me to agree with your brilliant assessment. I am, indeed, nothing but a nut.

But like all good nuts, this nut has a more intricate agenda behind his nutty plan. Please read further if you still have the courage…

Joy - Part 1
A cockroach I will adopt
And keep her, safe, on my loft
She will be a daughter to me
As wonderful as any daughter can be

I will teach her to fly
And reach for the sky
She will be safe
No harm shall come her way

I will teach her to date
I will find her a mate
Of course, she will procreate
Eight hundred times eighty into eight

Ecstasy - Part 2
In time my fellow humans
Your generations shall self-destruct
Your Politics, Your wars, your bombs, your holocaust
Extinct, Kaput, Finito – Ha Ha…There… watch… these morons go bust

But Stand by and Watch Human - My lineage will survive
Be Careful Human – They will Grow, prosper, and thrive
Yes, Its Funny ain’t it Human – laugh at me in mirth
Fuck You Human – Its MY descendants who inherit YOUR earth

You think I am a nut , don’t ya
You think I overreact, fuck ya
Watch this space, will ya
Cockroaches survive holocausts, can ya
Self-destruct soon, I beg ya

Congratulation to those who have got here – You have just read the worst blog post ever. No, I don't do drugs and did not write this under influence...

To those of you who have bothered to read my blog posts until this day and have made a solemn promise never to come back again – Good Bye.

To those who plan to come back in the future – I salute you and I admire your courage.

To those of you, innocent souls, who were misled into reading this because of the blog post name and came here expecting pornography – I apologise.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Candid Four Pointers... with Skilled Sugar-coating

I have to say it. I hate to say. I have been tagged.

The misfortune that has come upon me is my own doing. I incurred the wrath of a candid friend - also my favorite anonymous blogger. She was tagged and tags can sometime put bloggers who choose to be anonymous in a tad uncomfortable position. Well, one can’t really be candid.

I tried to give her a hard time. In return – the vengeful one tagged me. Tagged by someone, who, as a norm, refuses to tag anyone.

I therefore pick up the tag and try to do justice to it.

So here goes – The Four Pointer.

Four places you have lived:

1) I have lived for the longest time and continue to live in a little suburb in Mumbai. A little more than half a century ago, the suburb was a quaint little fishing village. It has now transformed into a bustling town – known for its spiraling real estate prices, shopping, nightlife, sea front promenades, and now its increasing expatriate population. And now a sea link.

2)My coming of age years. For the first time in my life, I had to move out of Mumbai after I was head hunted and landed my second job. I relocated, for a few years, to the little city not far from Mumbai. The city, then a haven for pensioners, middle class locals and students from all over the country, was just about finding its feet and preparing itself (unknowingly) to become a poor mans replica of Mumbai – inheriting all its problems. The expressway between Mumbai and Pune wasn’t built then. I lived in all sorts of rental accommodation – from a one-room pigeonhole to a two bedroom flat shared with five other fellow savages. Freedom - I have have never had as much fun. The best days of my life – house parties, army rum, sex, chilly evenings, jackets, hill stations, rain, bikes, the first steady relationship, parsi food, failed attempts at trying to cook, nostalgia…

3)Hotels. I have lived in all sorts of hotels in countries all over the world. Good hotels, grand hotels, bad hotels, small hotels, big hotels, dodgy hotels, dingy hotels, cheap hotels and expensive hotels. I have stayed in hotels for work, holidays, after missing flights and on romantic getaways. I hate hotels.

4)Hotel Decent. Anyone who has seen ‘Jab We Met’ will remember the dodgy hotel from the movie. I have, unwittingly, stayed in place exactly like that. Picture this - The room next door creaks opens. The door closes. Animated chatter. Giggles. The sound of locomotion. Creaking bed. Giggles. Animated chatter. Door Opens. Door Closes. Twenty minutes of silence. The door opens again. Repeat.

Four TV shows you love(d) to watch:
Now this is a tough one. I have never thought much of the idiot box and I don’t really enjoy idiotic company. But still….

1) He-Man and the Masters of the Universe – I watched this animated series as a child, faithfully, every Sunday evening – with bread and jam. For some reason, I had to have bread and jam religiously, every Sunday, while I watched He-Man take on Skeletor. Another reason I can’t forget the show is a recent incident in a church during a christian friend's wedding mass. During the service, the priest asked the congregation to bow their heads and make a silent prayer. One could hear a pin drop. A little child, sitting in front, across and not far from me, took this opportunity to draw his imaginary sword, raised it towards God and screamed “ BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL. I HAVE THE POWER”. The priest quickly forgot his prayers. The congregation tittered. The mother was embarrassed and the father beamed – proud of his son.

2) Giant Robot – A Japanese series dubbed in English and another childhood favorite.

3) Man vs Wild - Bear Grylls and his hair-raising adventures. Pure adrenalin. Real.

4) MTV Roadies – Corny and voyeuristic reality TV. But the concept of a long cross country road journey appeals to the traveler in me. Also, Raghu Ram, in my opinion, is brilliant.

Four places you have been to on vacation:
1) Goa – The 12 hour drive from Mumbai is brilliant. The romance in the air, the sound of the sea, the food, the people, the unhurried lifestyle - the place is intoxicating and it isn’t just the cheap alcohol. I slept on a beach once – lulled by the sound of the waves in my ears and the cool wind in my hair. I opened my eyes to a fresh early morning breeze and watched local villagers, at peace with themselves, walking past, smiling, unhurried, for an early morning service at a local church which opened up to the beach.

2) Mangalore – My grandmother’s village. Coconut groves, mango trees and jasmine plantations. The laziest place in the world with the sweetest smelling jasmine scented air. I go there when work gets to me and when I want a few stress free and lazy days. Once there – I just sleep or put my feet up and read. Heaven.

3) Phuket – Thailand… Thailand… the ocean… snorkelling…scuba diving… corals… water sports… the nightlife… need I say more…

4) Kashid – Read Goa but closer to home.

Four of your favorite kind of food:
1) Indian – The diversity in the country is demonstrated through the variety in food options.

2) Indian Chinese Street Food – The Indianised version of Chinese food tastes best at any local street side thela – especially on a rainy evening. Triple Shcezwan rules.

3) South East Asian Food – Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese and Chinese food, the best-looking food in the world.

4) Irish Stew & Stakes - Sorry, that probably makes it five. But I cant help it. It was tough short listing five in the first place.

Four websites you visit daily:
1) Wikipedia

2) Rediff

3) Candid Talk (Cant help it – Choco is prolific, writes everyday and writes well)

4) My company website (sorry… cant disclose the name… or I wont be anonymous anymore)

5) Used to be Expressive Silence too – but she pulled the blog

Four places you would rather be:
1) Goa

2) Managalore

3) The Lake District – One of the most beautiful places I have been to and the best place to enjoy English weather (I personally find English weather to be the most fair weather in the world – I wonder why they complain)

4) Kashid

Four things you hope to do before you die:
1)Travel around India for one month. I want to travel by train in second-class compartments with no fixed destinations or plans, with a limited budget and without mobile phones or plastic money. I want to live among the people and stay in cheap hotels. I want to travel to the heart of India – to its villages, B towns and C towns – and stay with people in their homes. My destination each day and the mode of transport decided spontaneously at the spur of the moment. My fellow travelers – my books and my camera.

2) Learn the guitar and master it

3) Learn to para glide

4) Retire by the time I am 45 and then write a book

Four novels you wish you were reading for the first time:
1) The God of Small Things – A book that probably wrote itself and Arundhati Roy just took credit. Never have I read anything more magical - influencing and manipulating the imagination, making it soar high and dive deep, all at once. After every few pages – I had to lie back, let my mind take over and imbibe the magic bit by bit. The only book I have read twice.

2) The Fountainhead – A book that has had an immense influence on life. .

3) My name is Red – I did not have to read this book. It sat up and spoke to me. All its characters, animate and inanimate - had life. Brilliant narrative

4) Swami and Friends – For its simplicity. I wish I could write like that. I wish I had a childhood like that. I so wanted to grow up in Malgudi.

5) The Famous Five – I know I am cheating but I want to be a child again and run to the local circulating library. The smell of old books combining with the smell of incense. Pick up a Famous Five book. Run back home and start reading the book with a mom-made Salami sandwich. Aaah! Why did I ever have to grow up…

Four movies you love:
1) Dev D – Or anything by Anurag Kashyap (I loved No Smoking). The film turned Devdas on its head and the visual imagery influenced me to write “Mother Loves Jeremy”. Now I wait for “Paanch” to see the light of day.

2) Life is Beautiful – Chaplinesque. The only movie that made me cry aloud… and I looked so stupid because I think I was smiling at the same time. The father – a hero to his son, both in a Nazi concentration camp and separated from the mother, tells his son that the camp is a game – and the one who gets 1000 points first wins a tank. Inspiring and beautiful. Funny and heart wrenching. An underrated masterpiece.

3) Oldboy – A South Korean. A man is kidnapped and imprisoned illegally for 15 years. He spends the 15 years in one claustrophobic room – with no access to the outside world. For 15 years he plans his revenge and trains himself. Only – he cannot seem to think of anyone with an incentive to do this to him. After 15 years – he is released – as suddenly as he was kidnapped. The man, a misfit, in the outside world, now has only one objective – to find the man who did this to him. The end hits you like a brick that falls from the top of a high-rise and hits you bang on the head. The film was plagiarized in Hindi and made into a bad film called Zinda.

4) Mard – I watched this Amitabh Bachchan starer some 25 times on home video when I was a kid. I still like it. The film is an absolutely regressive, B grade and senseless pot-boiler. Imagine this - A father, a king in exile, has british soldiers hot on his heels. When the soldiers are about to get to him – he picks up his little son, an infant, and with a knife carves “MARD” (Macho Man) on his chest. The infant smiles back. Mard Ko Dard Nahin Hota (A real man never hurts). The child grows up to be the Mard jisko Dard Nahin Hota – Amitabh Bachchan.

There... Done...dusted... And dedicated to Choco...

I know I am supposed to tag someone... but tags can be real drags... anyone who is inspired enough to do so can please pick up this tag and waste a post on it... only... please come back and leave a comment... so I can come over and read and be happy that someone else also had time to waste...