Friday, December 29, 2006


In a large IT company like mine, every requirement from a pin to an airline ticket is designated to various departments. The people working in these departments are adept at avoiding us and when we do spot one of their ilks, we tend to make sure that we make maximum use of the opportunity and pour out all our complaints and requirements. Most of the time the only place where you can spot these people is near the restrooms.

Lady: Hi Robert, haven’t seen you in ages
Robert (hurrying towards the toilet): He he yeah I have been busy, now if you will excuse me....
Lady: Robert you still haven’t got me a new Calculator!!
Robert: Sure Sure I will send it right away now if you will please excuse me...
Lady: And also my soft board needs to be replaced
Robert (jumping lightly): lady please put all this in a mail.... I must rush now
Lady (pouting): I have mailed you several times!! Robert you are always avoiding me!
Robert (crossing his legs in pain): Hnnnnnnn aargh...
Lady: And my car dangler is in tatters.
Robert: *groan* please contact Security for that...please lady I gotta go
Lady: Where are you off to?
Robert: umm mmm errr
Lady: And there was no water bottle on my desk today...
Robert (in great pain): lady you got to contact housekeeping for that....speaking of water *groan* I am sorry but I gotta gooooo (runs towards the toilet)
Lady: What a rude man!!!

I could have put Robert out of his misery but then it was kinda nice to watch him squirm, specially since there are about 560 mails of mine rotting in his inbox for a box of paper clips.

p.s it was me who told the lady, a fairly new employee, that Robert would help her with the Car Danglers and Water Bottle.

p.p.s and it was me who called the lady and told her that I had spotted Robert heading towards the rest room.

What a nice way to end my last working day of the year! The year ahead looks very promising indeed!

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Good tidings!!

Hola peoples!!! Hope you all had a joyous Christmas. I bring tidings of great joy for consumers this winter what with the PC Manufacturers and Computer Stores Association announcing massive celebratory discounts this season. Consumers are going to be spoilt for choice this winter. You will be running hither and thither and from one shop to another trying to make up your mind. Go get ‘em tigers and get home that perfect machine to make your computing experience more pleasurable.

According to a Press Release by the Association, the HP Pavilion 735243558686 TWINKLETWINKLELITTLESTAR3456 is selling like hot cakes this winter. Yet another pleasant surprise awaits the consumers this winter when the Lenovo 4563483 ONETWOBUCKLEMYSHOE 00567 hits the shelves at massive discounted rates. Of course if you were to consider the HP Pavilion 235000 GEORGIEPODGYPUDDINGNPIE 2345 you will notice that it has better features and even better options of spending monies on enhancements. But my personal favourite is the IBM 45627389585 THREEFOURSHUTTHEDOOR00001 that is supposed to be superior to HP Pavilion 235 MARYHADALITTLELAMB2345 and Lenovo 4563483 OWATADAMPSQUIB900 though not as advanced that the Compaq 1111111000000 OWATACRAP PC. It has a multimedia keyboard and a wireless mouse 57684949 RATPOSION007 though there is an option of choosing between a 57684949 JERRYMOUSE0054637 or a 57684949 MICKYMOUSEN1111 for a nominal charge.

The Dell Inspiron Notebook JACKNJILLWENTUPTHEHILL E1705 is a good buy this season, though it’s latest versions TOFETCHAPAILOFWATER E1720 and GODKNOWSWHATTHEYDIDUPTHERE E1721 and THEYCAMEDOWNWITHADAUGHTER E1722 gives you instants savings. Besides this offer is combined with a FREE head massage!

Keyboards have also gone hitech this year. The Microsoft Comfort Curve Keyboard Wireless Optical RIDINGDIRTY456373828 and the Microsoft Optical Desktop Elite for Bluetooth WHITENNERDY777723 are sure fire winners with consumers this year what with the heavy discounts the company is offering for the season.

And there is more good news for computers buyers this winter. Consumers who are planning on buying TFT monitors, rejoice!!!! The choice available for sale this year will leave you shaking your head in disbelief!! The 17 inch 567777 HITHERETOBREAKGLASS64546 delivers great features at very reasonable rates though you could go for the 18 inch 13333 FRAGILEGLASSTHISSIDEUP64546 at no extra cost. The features are almost the same except that the 18 inch 13333 FRAGILEGLASSTHISSIDEUP64546 is slightly more complicated to remember and hence the price has been kept the same as the17 inch 567777 HITHERETOBREAKGLASS64546 . The latest buzz in the TFT monitor scene is the 22 inch 13333xivvv DRIVEINCINEMA64546!!! This comes in a choice of four colors, gray, dull gray, duller grey and dullest grey. Besides consumers who remember it’s name and number when the warranty Period is over, will be given a free holiday to Goa.

Oh yes, in order to speed up sales and deal with the rush consumers are advised to state the EXACT details of the items that they are buying.

For example if you are buying the LENOVO THINKPAD then please specify all details like the alphabets and numbers correctly to the salespeople for example:

1. THINKPAD 567000956 FLATSTOMACH9000xxx
2. THINKPAD 22222272X WASHBOARDABS9000iillx

The Association warns that they will not be held responsible if you order a PC or a peripheral etc. and are delivered a Hummer. Please note in case of such a transaction you will have to pay up the excess price for the Hummer, Drain Pipe Cleaner, Commode Brush, Antiaircraft Missiles, Rottweiler, AIRBUS A380 or any other item that gets delivered to your doorstep due to the errors in your orders that you are solely responsible for. Delivery charges extra. In some countries, items like Antiaircraft Missiles may be prohibited, in which case you will have to pay for storage and godown charges. The Association will keep the said item for approximately 90 days after which it will be auctioned off to the highest bidder in the Kashmir valley.

Happy shopping everyone!!!

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Merry Christmas!

My Christmas Wish For You

My Christmas wish for you, my friends
Is not a simple one
For I wish you hope and joy and peace
Days filled with warmth and sun

I wish you love and friendship too
Throughout the coming year
Lots of laughter and happiness
To fill your world with cheer

May you count your blessings, one by one
And when totaled by the lot
May you find all you've been given
To be more than what you sought

May your journeys be short, your burdens light
May your spirit never grow old
May all your clouds have silver linings
And your rainbows pots of gold

I wish this all and so much more
May all your dreams come true
May you have a Merry Christmas friends
And a happy New Year, too ..

I wish you a Merry Christmas :)

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Going once, going twice...hey where are you all going?

Yesterday I picked up a nice T Shirt for my second brother with a caption in red and black embroidery in front. Shopping for him is easy; just pick up something in black and you are done. And since this “always well dressed” gentleman has never bought a single piece of clothing himself in his life and the onus of shopping for him rests with my mom and me, I was sure that a small change in his diet of black , black and more black, would do a world of good for all of us living with him.

Now, change must be handled gently and in small doses especially if it is my second brother. For example if you were to pick up a yellow T-shirt for him, be sure to see the subject go into fatal shock and recover just as quickly to screech in indignation till he is black and blue in the face.( this particular shade of blue is allowed).

On the other hand if you were to pick up a T-shirt with a teensy weensy microscopic bit of yellow somewhere on the T-Shirt like at the back, he would accept it because he cannot see it. You of course will call his friends and plead that they don’t make remarks like “macha what is that sunflower doing on your back” because that will make the said subject undress faster than Mallika Sharawath, beg borrow or steal a black shirt from somewhere and come home fuming to commit sistericide or mothericide, depending on who bought the T shirt.

Of course it doesn’t matter to His Royal Highness (henceforth referred to as HRH) that we battled hours of traffic jam and tiring browsing through umpteen shops to come up with a black shirt that doesn’t look like the 6545 ones he already has. (Unlike normal boy babies whose first words are ‘Harley Davidson’ my brother’s first words were ‘black’. Much to the relief of my parents his second words was ‘Harley Davidson’)

Anyways his HRH took one look at the T Shirt and screeched “Oh my God, it’s pink!!!!!” followed by exaggerated gagging noises which I ignored with practiced ease. I looked closely at the red thread…it was indeed red. I showed it to everyone in the house and everybody agreed that it was indeed red. But HRH refused to even look at the T Shirt. My mom gave me an exasperated look that said, “Why do you even bother!” and walked away muttering.

Now why do I bother dear fellow blogger’s? Because if I don’t, then this supremely fashion conscious being will go and buy clothes for himself!!! And that my dear peoples would be a catastrophe of enormous proportions. Last time he shopped for clothes, our phone lines were jammed with people calling us up exclaiming, “That guy in the blood red shirt is your brother/son no? I swear it is him!!! Oh my god he looks awful!!!! Why don’t you people do something!!! You can’t have him roaming the streets looking like that!!!”

So you see, we are well and truly stuck and he knows that. I resignedly took the T shirt back to the shop. But I was too late because exchanges were allowed only within 24 hours of sale. That is 800 bucks down the drain. And so peoples, in order to get my money back I am holding an auction. The item for auction is my brother MP. All eligible girls can take part in this auction. The said item though very stubborn is in good condition and once sold will be delivered bound and gagged by me and my mom to the gals’ house. After which it is your responsibility to see that he stays put. Any attempts by Subject to get back home will be futile because we would have shifted house by then.

Some features of the Subject on auction:

1. Extremely short sighted: You will have to hold up his shirt, Mobile, laptop etc in front of his eye at a comfortable viewing level in order for him to notice it. Failing which you will be accused of deliberately hiding aforementioned objects so that he is late to work.
2. Selective Deafness: Subject hears only what he wants to hear.
3. Selective Blindness: Subject sees only what he wants to see.
4. Food connoisseur: All meals should be freshly made and at no point of time should the menu be repeated unless specifically ordered by HRH.
5. Food = Meat
6. Subject doesn’t drink water unless prescribed by a doctor in a prescription pad and or under threat of IV transfusion.
7. Neighbors will throw trash bags inside his room since it looks like the municipal garbage dump. Clothes moved from the clothes heap in his room will be immediately noticed even if it has moved only an inch in the heap. GPS should be used to navigate Subject’s room. We shall not be held responsible if you lose your way and your remains are not found even after a couple of years.
8. Unless specified, that mud caked T shirt is not dirty and hence will not be put to wash.
9. On the other hand if that mud caked T Shirt is not clean when he needs it, then you better disappear till he cools down.
10. He will not lend shaving stuff for fear of AIDS but if he has forgotten to buy his own then he will generously borrow from the other two men in the family. You will have to sterilize the items and carefully put it back to avoid fratricide.
11. Socks will never be put for wash in pairs though he expects them to come back from wash in pairs.
12. Music will play full volume in his headphone and speakers and the surround sound system. You may shift into a temporary accommodation while the music is on.
13. Be prepared to have your perfumes used to clean his music system and shampoo to clean his shoes. Only the best will do for his beloved music system and shoes. Oh yes, make sure you buy the best towels money can buy for yourself. Subject likes to use the best for cleaning his bike. You can always wash it and reuse it. Don’t be so fussy!
14. Be prepared to see your cosmetic creams disappear alarmingly fast though Subject will rather die than admit that he borrows your Garnier Body Cocoon.
15. Subject is king of all he surveys and is too used to child labor in the form of a sister and bonded labor in the form of a mother. You will double in as both.
16. All the friends of the subjects are like him and live in the house with him. Their parents are either glad to get rid of them or don’t want them back. You will know why, very soon.
17. On weekends subject and friends will play lot of cricket and football and drink lot of beer. That does not mean you get a break. Who will carry the beer at pre ordained intervals at a specified temperature in a carefully calculated time period from the house to the adjacent ground so that it arrives at the right temperature at the ground?
18. Subject has umpteen female admirers so be prepared to have random girls smile at you and try and act extremely friendly. Don’t be under the mistaken impression that you are extremely popular or irresistibly cute.
19. Subject has friends’ allover town. So be prepared to get an SMS just as you are walking by KFC that says “I need two Zinger burgers, large fries and a coke and my clothes from the dry cleaner next door” and another SMS when you pass by Imperial “One full chicken kabab and 20 Kerala porottas and make it fast!!!”
20. If you are an unmarried gal in her mid twenties and have reached till this point then we consider this item “SOLD” to you. Please let us know where we should deliver. No protests allowed after sale.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Bitter, sweet, sour & astringent lessons

I learnt to cook at the tender age of 8 months, when I lifted a jar of salt and emptied it into a bowl of chicken curry. The expression on the adult’s faces seated around the table when they tasted the curry, told me that cooking would be great fun. My mom, the lady of the house and the master chef whose cooking skills are legendary in our house, must have felt threatened by the homegrown competition because she tried cutting short my budding interest in cooking by keeping the jar of salt in highly secretive hidden location. But I guess inborn talents cannot be suppressed, because I soon found the jar of sugar and emptied that into a nice Kottayam style beef fry that my mom had made painstakingly. My talents were obvious from a very young age. The jar of sugar was soon dispatched to some highly confidential location deep in the Sahara desert. Soon I found out that the jar of chilly powder and pepper powder also bought out fun expressions on adults’ faces. By this time my mom, probably feeling very threatened by the encroaching competition, sent away all the spices in her kitchen to top secret hideouts around the world as a last ditch attempt to stop me from trying my hand at cooking. (“Maa bhi kabhi beti thi” is the title of the book I will be writing about my early life).

Having my talents so brutally and cruelly nipped in the bud, I went back to doing what normal kids do, like throwing my Ammachi's chickens into the well, falling into a bucket of water headlong, letting out water from the water tank and falling from the roof. I led an uneventful life back then. Unlike now, when my life is full of danger, excitement, thrill, adventure, cliffhangers etc like running behind my company bus every morning ( I got a speeding ticket for that), dashing from conference room to conference room at breakneck speed, chasing the ad agency and Event Management people, snooping on competitors and eating cafeteria food. I am yet to see the cabin allotted to me and I heard it is being used for nefarious purposes like *gasp* “work” by people who look suspiciously like my colleagues armed with laptops and white board markers. BUT….. I am familiar with each and every network socket in this campus where I can plug in my lappie and that includes the socktes thoughtfully provided on the cafeteria tables and the loo. ( and psssst don’t tell this to anyone but I heard some kaamchor people play solitaire on their lappies in the loo. Disgusting!!!).

We even have “Bring your lappie to office on Saturday” Saturdays and “Take you lappy home everyday” weekdays. I tell you, the Corporate Communications people here are tops (and I don’t mean in the weight department though they top in that too). So thoughtful no?

But we are deviating my dear readers… yes all five of you err…make it four as one of you have fallen asleep. Back to our narrative and like I was telling you many many paragraphs ago, I found out that I had an interest in cooking very early in life. By very early, I do not mean the first month of my life in the incubator where I was kept on a constant low heat, though I admit it must have influenced me in some way like by making me realize it is better to cook than be cooked. (Ok I heard that joke about my brains being cooked too grrrr).

My yearning to learn cooking raised it’s stubborn head again, when I was 8 or 9 years old and by this time my Mom was so fed up of cooking that she actually conspired to get out of the kitchen, by buying me, my very own cookery book and recalling all the jars of chilly, salt, sugar etc from the various top secret locations around the world. (What a scheming woman no?)

Soon after the arrival of the spices, I began cooking after saying an elaborate prayer that was rather rudely interrupted by my dad exclaiming in horror and dashing out of the house to renew the Household Fire Insurance Policy. I picked up basic cooking very fast, and was soon raring to try more exotic cuisines. I appealed to all the ladies in the neighborhood to give me recipes and they obliged and it is from these ladies, that I learnt the greatest cooking lesson of all. A lesson that left me very wised indeed. And what was that lesson? Patience… I will reveal all *mysterious smile*

The first person to give me a recipe was Mrs J. Mrs J made a particularly delicious Banana Bread. So it was with great anticipation that I made the Banana Bread. The bread looked like a blob of dried cement. Even my brother refused to eat it.

The second person to share her recipe was Mrs T. I made the Malabar Fish Curry exactly as it was given in the recipe and gave it to my brother to taste. My brother who will eat dog biscuits if it not pointed out that it is dog biscuit threw up after tasting the fish curry.

The third person to share her recipe was Mrs M. She gave me her recipe for candied peel. When the candied peels were ready, it was stiffer than iron rods and tasted like putrid Citric Acid.

And the last person to share her recipe was Mrs M again. She gave me her treasured recipe of Fruit Bread. I made the bread dough exactly the same way it was instructed in the recipe and kept the dough aside to rise. Exactly half an hour later my maids ran screeching out of the kitchen and ran helter-skelter. A bubbling mass of grey matter was coming out of the kitchen and threatening to engulf the whole house. There was bubbling fruit bread dough everywhere. People were running for their lives. It took three hours to clean the mess and subdue the bubbling monster.

After the mess was cleaned my mom took the recipes to investigate where I had gone wrong. After reading the recipes, she started laughing hysterically. Apparently Mrs J had conveniently forgotten to include baking powder in her recipe, , Mrs R had also very conveniently forgotten to include kodampulli (tamarind) in her recipe, Mrs M had made me make candeed peel with thrice the amount of Citric Acid and sugar and her Fruit Bread recipe that needed only 20 gms “Yeast” was conveniently of course “by mistake’ made to 200 gms yeast. The result as you can see was disastrous.

After she had stopped laughing my mom taught me my first lesson in cooking. “A good cook will never part with her recipe.”

Thank you ladies for that lesson. Your course material was excellent and course recall really lasting. I will remember it to my dying day.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

My Super Ex-Girlfriend

Warning: Do not read if you are planning to watch the movie.

I saw My Super Ex Girlfriend yesterday night at the Symphony. It is a nice movie to watch if you want to give your brain a vacation for two hours.

The story line is unbelievable…literally. Luke Wilson and his nerdy needy pal Rainn Wilson are traveling by train when Rainn spots Uma Thurman. She looks spectacularly boring like most train commuters but then hey… she is Uma Thurman and you got to pick her up from the crowd to get the movie going. Apart from that there is no convincing reason why Rainn spots her with her brown toupee, spectacles and makeup less mousy face. Rainn convinces Luke to ask her out which he does quite charmingly only to be met with a ‘No’. Just when you are telling yourself ‘cant a guy take a hint?’ the movie takes a bollywood kinda turn. A bag snatcher snatches Uma’s hand bag and runs out of the stationery train. It was moving I swear, when Uma said ‘No’.

Most of the plot that provides the twists and turns in this movie are unbelievable.

Luke Wilson for one, looks good and definitely not the kind of guy who has no love life and hence is desperate enough to pick up a dull looking Uma Thurman in a suburban train.

Uma Thurman acts like a neurotic, jumpy, crazy woman on their first date, scaring the living daylights out of Luke and the audience. Besides this, the scriptwriter gives Luke enough hints as large as a mental asylums, that Uma Thurman is cuckoo, but he still asks her out for a second time, and you kinda say “he deserved it’ when things turn really bad for him.

Luke’s plan was to get laid and move on, but he makes the cardinal mistake of asking her out again, and Uma promptly falls in love with him. When he tells her that he is not in love with her, she literally hits the roof and makes a hole in the ceiling. She vows to make him pay for the rejection and flies away in a rage through the hole in the ceiling. This, of course happens on the second date.

Uma's character is full of holes, which is good actually as she does a lot of flying around in the air at supersonic speed. Adds to her aerodynamic character. She is sensible enough to appear like Superman and save the city from the stupid catastrophes thought up by the Stunt Director, but she is absolutely stupid otherwise. Perhaps the Stunt Director could have directed the entire film, as the only scenes that make sense are the Supergirl exploits of Uma Thurman. She also looks good only in the movie posters and in her G-girl avataar, losing the brown toupee and spectacles. The stunt director has taste I must say.

Then Luke realizes that he is in love with his sweet colleague Anna Faris, whose nice boyfriend conveniently gets himself caught in bed with three girls to clear the way for Luke. She promptly falls in love with him and they make love. (See didn’t I tell you that Luke doesn’t look needy?). Uma throws a live shark into their bedroom scene…the shark fortunately has better tastes and bites off huge chunks of the furniture in a feeding frenzy. Due to some personal ethics not divulged by the scriptwriter, Uma doesn’t go after Anna even though she should… logically.

Finally an ex boyfriend of Uma devices a glowing rock, similar to the one which made Uma super powerful and makes her walk into a trap set by Luke. Of course he forgets to tell girlfriend Anna not to barge in making a huge scene, which leads to the explosion of the rock making Anna also a Supergirl.

The theater was packed with nine people, out of which two were the ushers, one was a guy who kept gazing into his cellpone, besides five girls...out of whom one kept looking around thinking “I will blog about this”, another kept giggling at everything including the 'Please take care of your belongings in the theater’ slide and the ‘Nokia ad’, and another who was watching the movie like she is watching the 'Schindler’s List’ and another who kept exclaiming “The cheese popcorn is soggy, chat popcorn is spicy and the masala popcorn is too bland” etc. The fifth one is still missing.

Oh yes... before I end this rather long review, please avoid the Ice cream in the theater. It is very good actually, but not advisable to be eaten in the air-conditioned theater or you will end up writing movie reviews on a Saturday night sniffling with cold, cough and fever.

Have a nice weekend everyone.

( This review was written the weekend the movie was released)

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Taming the shrews

Weekends are glorious periods of inactivity for me. I don’t even exercise my vocal cords these two days. One blink of an eye means "Yes" two means “No”. When my Mom asks "so you will be spending the day in bed reading?" I blink once and when she asks "would you please clean your room?" I will blink twice to indicate a "No" and when she asks "are you going to feed the dogs or shall I send them to the SPCA?" I flutter my eyelashes several times in alarm, jump out of the bed in a trice with a "noooooooooo" and rush out to feed them. (There are some exceptions in life you see) You do not want your darling doggies to be given to the SPCA who will place them with some strange family who will love them and feed them on time do you? ( They will miss me so much *snifff*)

This Saturday, besides the usual casual threats, which I ignore if it doesn’t have anything to do with my doggies like "I will burn down your cupboard if you don’t rearrange it" etc. she said something that made me widen my eyes in alarm and gasp in horror like those heroines in Ramsey Brother movies when they see the awful make up of the ghost. Apparently my aunt was leaving her 13 year old teenager, Miss Deepa Ann Varghese (DAV) with us for the day. Now...Miss DAV and me are as fond of each other as my doggie Brandy and the neighbor’s cat. (and that is a lot of hate believe me.)

I will not get into the history behind the saga of mutual loathing and pure hatred between Miss DAV and me, but after my last encounter with her I have been praying very fervently and earnestly and sincerely to God that by the time I marry and have a daughter and she grows up to be a teenager, they would have invented a device that would enable parents to fast forward their child’s development, skipping a few years here and there. And no prizes for guessing which would be the years I would be skipping. (And thank you God that my mom didn’t have such a device, I owe you one).

Today, I also developed a newfound respect for my aunt, the mother of this abomination err…child who has remained sane all these years while I went batty in the few hours that I chaperoned her daughter. Anyways folks, the good news is that I survived the day….mainly due to some quick thinking ….several muffled expletives besides helluva lot of slow counting from 1 to 20,000. Today I also discovered that I have sadistic tendencies …more of that later... *evil mirthless grin*

In the morning, my second brother suddenly developed an acute condition called "Cricket practice" and walked out of the house rather he dived out of the window and pole vaulted across the compound wall and was gone before I could say "nandrolone" but not before throwing a triumphant grin in my direction. While I was wondering what that was all about, my mom dropped the bombshell. Apparently Miss DAV and her friends had to go the Mall urgently for some important shopping, like checking out the free make up and perfumes and giggling hysterically and shoving each other when they saw guys and since my brother had Cricket practice, I had to drop and pick them up. I shall not enunciate the epithets that flew fluently from my mouth towards my brothers retreating back (because I know only three).

By 9:30 am, Miss DAV was ready. By ready I mean, she looked like somebody had blackened her eyes (black eye shadows), bloodied her lips (blood red lipstick) and yanked her hair out (latest electro static cut). I looked at her and realized that if it hadn’t been for the big mole on her right hand there would be no way I could identify her as Miss DAV. As she waited for me to reverse the car out of the garage I could hear her talking to a similarly attired friend at the other end of the phone.

You should see her cosmetic collection, bleah!
OMG she uses a comb *snigger*”
She actually wears her pants around her waist *sneer*

Ignoring her and the strong urge to run the car over her again and again till the insolent smirk was wiped into the driveway I drove out of the house. The better part of the morning was spent trying to find "the house near the florist on Ring Road" and "the red brick house with a dent on the gate on Residency Road" and "the bakery next to Johnson Market because I am thirsty and need a Coke." In short, Miss DAV didn’t have any addresses. I clenched the steering wheel a little too tightly as I saw my precious Saturday vanish in a puff of Lakme Matt Silk Face Powder that Miss DAV was dabbing on her nose from time to time. Luckily she had the phone numbers and so I talked to the various Mrs Josephs, Mrs Gowda’s, a Mrs D’souza’s and a Miss Jenny (a Dad’s secretary) and got to the houses and picked up the little misses.

I looked at them in the rear view mirror. They all looked like battered victims of domestic violence with black and blue and red faces. They were in turn looking at me like I was a beggar with sores. Soon there was a lot of nudging and giggling and "keep quite, she will hear" and "look at her clothes" etc in the backseat and that is when the sadistic tendencies in me first raised its delightful head. I looked at them and felt a strange urge to drag them to the municipal water tap, wash their make up and then drop them off makeupless at the Mall ( do I hear gasps of pure delight from parents?…Didn’t I tell you I found the hidden sadist in me?).

The thought was so sadistically satisfying that I didn’t realize that I had an evil grin on my face. The girls were looking at me rolling their eyes and I had that good ol feeling of sadism rising within me again. This time I wanted to take a bottle of coconut oil and smear their hair with oil and then leave them in the Mall (Do I hear applause? Parents I told you stick around and you will learn more).

Then one of them spotted my ‘old fashioned’ Estelle bracelet and nudged the others and they collapsed giggling. By this time I had had enough and something snapped within me. You seen those horror movies when the gal sits in the car and suddenly the car doors get locked and then the camera moves away from the car and you hear blood curdling screams and then deathly silence? *heh heh*

I closed the SUV doors with the central locking system and searched in the glove compartment and found what I was looking for. Something that could inflict pain of the worst kind that would have the victim begging for death. Something the driver kept in the glove compartment in case of emergencies. I put the CD player on to drown out the screams of my to-be victims and then inserted the CD. Then I put the music on in full volume and watched the smug expressions turn to uneasiness, alarm and then pure horror, as Himesh Reshamiyya belted out “oooo huzoor tera tera tera suroooooor!!!!” Their screams were drowned out in the sheer nasal croon. I played Aapka Suroor Volume One through to Volume Two while the car crawled at 40 kmph. There was no escape…the car doors were locked.

45 minutes later, I dumped their lifeless bodies in front of the Mall.

In the evening when I went to pick them up, they were very very quiet and well behaved and the return journey was peaceful with a lot of respect shown towards the 'geriatric' driver. Just the way I like teenagers to be. *muahAHAHAHAHA*

Friday, November 03, 2006

Friday dhamaka

One of the funniest things I have seen in a long while.

I am standing on the main road waiting for the company bus to come. A tempo with a driver and a young ‘cleaner’ come and park beside me. The driver gets down, says something to the ‘cleaner’ in Malayalam and vanishes somewhere. The ‘cleaner’ primps and preens as he spots me and another gal who has joined me. Then he decides that he should do something additional to impress. So he gets behind the wheel and reverses the tempo. He loses control and perhaps in panic keeps his legs on the accelerator. The tempo reverses in a wide arc in top speed mowing down some motorcycles, a culvert, a hoarding and still in top speed reverses into a house smashing the gate. All in a matter of a few seconds.

I collapse laughing.

What a way to start a Friday!!!!

Life is good!!

Damages: A few thousand rupees.
The look on the ‘cleaner's’ face: Priceless!!

Thursday, October 26, 2006

When cupid strikes and misses

From time immemorial, guys have used every possible method to catch the attention of the gals they fancy. Some are unique, some are not. Of course there are the suave and smooth guys who have no problems in charming the gals off their feet.

On the other hand you have guys who have no clue on how to approach a gal or are too shy and often end up making fools of themselves. I shall give a few examples of the second type of guys and their tactics that I have encountered over the years.

The Romantic Stalker: This type is usually found on a bike, hovering around the bus stand around the same time your bus is due to arrive. He will be hovering around when your college bus drops you off in the evening too. Will comb his hair and preen in the bike mirror from time to time. He will follow you home in his bike and then turn it gracefully around the moment you enter the gate and vanish in a trice.

Rating: Harmless

The Bus Stand Romeo: This type waits at your bus stop. You ignore him. He doesn’t mind. He knows when your college bus arrives and departs and may be found checking his watch anxiously if you are a trifle late. He looks at you askance when you finally arrive at the bus stand with an expression that says “where were you all this time?”. Any moment you feel he may lift his feet like a dog and pee on the lamp post closest to you, to mark his territory.

Rating: Annoying but harmless

The Phone Romeo: This type has no self confidence but considers himself in lurve. So his friends will jump into the fray to help him out by getting your phone number using sisters or GF’s studying in your college.

Him: Hello?
Me: Yes?
Him: um…errr…. (whispers heard in the background like “ask her her name” etc.)
Him: err….my name is Prasad (muffled curses in the background from friends)
Me: Yes, Mr. Prasad?
(muffled directions being given in the background like “ask her her name you dolt!!!)
Him: err…what is your name?
Me: What?!?!!?
Him: *gulp* err…hmmmm….I mean what is the name of the subjects you have taken in college?
(sounds of expletives and palms slapping foreheads by the support services gathered around the Romeo).

Rating: Absolutely harmless as he will lose courage after the first attempt and the several well aimed kicks by friends who spent many an hour coaching him for this singular performance.

The Dog Loving Romeo: This type probably doesn’t know what a dog is but since he is seen you walking your dogs may do a quick read up and strategically place himself on your regular walking route.

Him: Hello…nice dog…I just love dogs.
Me: Thank you!
Him: This is a Great Dane (a big dog) isn’t it? Nice breed. I know quite a lot about them.
Me: No, this is a Lhasa Apso ( a very small dog)
Him: Oh!!!

Rating: Harmless. After loss of face he may never come back, but the effort was cute and commendable, though lacked sufficient research.

The SMS Romeo: Another poor soul with your phone number.

SMS at 12 midnight: Hi!
Me on SMS: Who is this?
Him: Guess!!! :)
Me: No idea!
Him: I was standing at the college gate in a checked shirt.
Me: Ok, I didn’t notice.
Him: Can we talk?
Me: No!
Him: ??
Him: ????????

Rating: Harmless if ignored. If he persists then I hand the phone over to my rather staid and sedate eldest brother. He will patiently and in a kind tone sermonize the guy about concentrating on his studies and focusing on his career and not wasting his youth etc and soon you will distinctly hear the guy snoring at the other end. There would be no more SMS after that.

The Kishore Kumar Romeo: This type has a song for every second, hour, time of the day.

As you are walking towards him: Thumko dekha tho yeh khayal aaya, zindagi dhoop tum ghana saaya.
As you come abreast: Mujse shaadi karogi, Mujse shaadi karogi.
As you pass him by: Ruk ja o jaanewaali rukjaa, mein hun raahi theri manzil ka.

Rating: Harmless and very entertaining. Uses a good mix of old and new songs and sings well, mostly unemployed, but gallant. Best ignored unless you want to accept his proposal and plan on singing “ Mera jeevan kora kaagaz kora is reh gaya” for the rest of your life.

The Love Note Romeo: This guy is a rather confident person but not confident enough to face you and tell you his feelings. He will send you a letter written in single ruled paper torn from his notebook and the content will usually be like this:

From the time I seeing you, I am loving you. You are vary butiful. I know many boys after you, but I loving you truly. I want to meet you. My name is pyarelal. I love you vary much. bye

Rating: Harmless.

The Juvenile Romeo: This type will shout out suddenly when you pass him by and the resultant attention tickles him no end. He will talk loudly, giggle, push his friends and act like a complete jerk expecting you to be impressed.

Rating: Bloody fool!!

Office Romeos: You get bumbling Romeos in the office too. I will describe some specimens from the corporate world here.

The Internal Messenger Romeo: As soon as you reach the office and switch on the computer your IM will flash a message.

Him: Good Morning!
Me: Good Morning.
Him: Breakfast kazhicho? ( had your breakfast)
Me: yep
Him: What was the menu?
Me: Sorry gotta go for a meeting, bye.

He will of course keep messaging and you minimize the window and ignore him for the rest of the day. In the evening you open the messenger and see the long monologue and reply with a “oops sorry was in a meeting whole day, going home bye” and shut down the comp.

The Traveling Romeo: Apparently…this guy is forever traveling and hence will drop by your seat often on the pretext of giving you Chocolates (from US/UK), Murukku (Chennai), Rasgulla (Kolkata) etc. You realize when you check the packet that they have been bought from Nilgiri’s Departmental Store. He keeps dropping in till you are gagging and probably throws his hand up in despair when you don’t return his affections. After which he probably writes to his mother “maa mein shaadi karne ke liye thaiiyaar hun”. You will have peace of mind for three months after which the routine starts all over again *groan* or till attrition gives you a break.

The Chocolate/Toffee Romeo: This type will leave a chocolate or a toffee in your cubicle from time to time. You try desperately to find out who he is but he is too shy to show himself. When it stops you know he is joined another company.

The Devdas Romeo: This is the silent suffering in love kind type, that hangs around your floor though his cubicle is in the next building just to get a glimpse of you. He is so miserably in love that when you are leaving the office in the evening, you can see him plastered to the window glass trying to catch a last glimpse of you. If he happens to be in the lunch que with you, then the guys standing ahead of him will, in sync move back to allow him to stand next to you which is as good as attaining ‘nirwana’ for him. If you look at him he blushes and gets nervous. You heave a sigh a relief when he joins another company. Attrition has its benefits I must say!!

The Linguist Romeo: This guy doesn’t beat around the bush.

Him: You are a Malayalee? I love Malayalam!! I have been learning the language since two months now. Will you teach me?
Me: That’s nice. So how much Malayalam do you know?
Him: I know vanakkam ( a Tamil word) and oota (a Kannada word)
Me: Those are not Malayalam words.
Him: Oh! *sheepish grin*

Won’t trouble you after being caught red handed.

These are a few examples and gals usually have their own way of dealing with them. All girls would have had a brush with at least one of these Romeos at some time or the other. If not for originality one must commend them for making the effort. And If you know of any other ‘genius methods’ guys use, feel free to use the comments section.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Then & Now Part II

Today was a holiday and our cafeteria was closed so I went out for lunch with my friend. As we walked from the office towards this eating joint near a Montessori School, a car came speeding by and almost knocked me off my feet. A mom with her small child in the passenger seat drove the car. The child looked rather disappointed that his mom missed me. I am sure he has never missed anyone in his video game. I hope the lady got to knock somebody down for the child’s sake. Imagine the kid going to school and facing this.

Kid 1: My mom knocked down two guys today
Kid 2: Mine ‘just’ missed.
Kid 1 : *sneer* What a loser!!!
Kid 2: *sob*

The kid would be scarred for life I am sure, if not growing up to be a psychopath hanging around IT companies mowing down gals with access cards dangling around their necks. Grim portents indeed. We might right now be breeding, a legion of serial killers. brrr

From the look on the little guy’s face I can only imagine how tough it must be to be a mom these days. Our Moms didn’t have it this tough…except of course those teenage years the mention of which reminds my Dad and Mom of over the counter sedatives. How else would you explain the pleasant smile which never wavered when I vehemently demanded my fundamental rights to wear spaghetti strap tops, shave my legs, perm my hair, burn my books and leave school and start a Pizza joint? I am sure they were Gold Members of the Frequent Users Club run by sedative manufacturing Pharma companies, a precursor to the Frequent Flyers Club we have today, which is mostly used by parents for the very same reason.

To get back to our narrative, moms these days really have it tough, confirm the new moms in my family. Moms are no more Mrs. Joseph or Mrs. Nair or Mrs. Krishnamurthy, they are Head-Formulations, VP-QA/QC , CFO/Financial Controller, Head-Poop Cleaner, Head Purchases- Sony Playstation/X-Box/SUV/Cops, Chief- Gaming partner, Manager – Handling Embarrassing Questions like “is Dad gay because he doesn’t have a GF” etc all rolled into one. Our parents had it relatively easy. Like this instance when one of my brothers was in the first standard and saw a Sikh kid for the first time. He came home and declared that he had a girl in his class but she peed standing like him. My parents were caught on the wrong foot and spent many months trying to explain that Manjeet was a boy and not a girl. They now laugh about it uneasily.

Added to all the above, modern moms have to keep up the expectation of the children too. No more Samosa making and birthday party throwing like our moms. They have to know what an X Box is (I just learned that it is not a box marked with an X) and how to buy it in 12 easy installments. Compared to this I am sure our parents had tamer challenges. As a kindergarten kid I told my Dad that he didn’t look like a Dad…because he wasn’t fat, didn’t wear Safari suits, scratch his crotch and swear like the Punjabi uncles who came to pick up their kids. He was very hurt, but then he forgot all about it as got terribly busy trying to get me out of the habit of saying saala ullu ka patta and some other equally interesting words.

While you and me were out playing because watching DD was like being grounded, kids these days sit through F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Will and Grace after homework. Hence their IQ is much higher than yours and mine. For example they know that Will is gay and Grace is not and that Ross is not gay though he married a gay who was not gay but became gay after marrying Ross (poor Ross).

Parents today have to answer complicated questions unlike the tame questions we put before our parents.

Then: Mom where do babies come from?
Now: Mom, why did you opt for a caesarean, according to doctors report I wasn’t a breech presentation?

However after having acknowledged that parenting in todays world is tough I have to maintain that if there was an award in parenting then I would give it to one Mrs Krishnan, my brother M’s friend’s mom ! After the cake cutting and other formalities of her sons 13th birthday she told him “Pack your bags and go to M’s house. I will be right along to pick you up”. She kept her word. She was back when he reached 19 and was out of his teens.

She is a living icon for modern moms with small kids and teenagers.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Then & Now!

A true to life incident.

My lil cuz sis to her mom: Mom, Tarun (14 year old) has a girlfriend!!
Mom (turning to me and whispering): Thank god....that means he is straight!!!

( Apparently Moms these days are relieved even if their 8 year old has a girl friend. What a change from the past don't you think? )

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Next generation automotive technology!

Today I went with my Dad to the car showroom to close his car loan. The showroom manager ushered us into his plush office and was very courteous. This is the conversation that took place after the pleasantries.

Dad: I am amazed at the technology used in this car!!!
Manager (pleased): Thank you Sir! This particular model has some high end features and you were very wise to go for it.
Dad: No, what I was trying to say is that this car never gave me any problem till the day before yesterday, but yesterday after I paid the last EMI cheque the car started rattling and shaking and showing its true colors. Amazing technology! How do you people do it? Hats off!

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The search ends here...but why?

All you dumb stupid irritating people searching for stuff on the Internet, please leave my innocent, pure as driven snow blog alone. Haven’t you discovered by now that my blog does not have what you are looking for? Then why oh why do you come here for the 465th time looking for Chicken Tikka Dry? And *groan* don’t you know by now that I don’t have Airtel Recharge hacker codes, or I would be an Airtel Subscriber in sickness and health, good times and bad times till death do us part?

Since you people keep knocking on my door despite my reputation as a nice gal, I have decided to dedicate one post to all you special people, wherein I will clarify all your doubts once and for all, so that you will stop showing your ugly mugs on my Statcounter.

So listen to me carefully all you people searching for the following…I shall say this only once.

1.Livocitrizine: Take your area phone directory, the thicker the better and hit yourself really hard on the head with it. If you are still alive cos you cheated and didn’t hit yourself really really hard then open the directory, go to the Pharmacy section and take down the names of f$%#&g pharmacies in your area., open the door, use hammer if necessary, walk out of the door, go to the pharmacy and buy the f$%#^&*g Livocitrizine and then LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! Ok??????

2.Achappam: arey tere ghar mein maa behen biwi aur naukrani nahin hai kya ki mere blog par achappam khaane aatha hai? Ullu ka patta!! ( please read disclaimer about my Hindi here)

3.Mallu aunties: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78, that there are no mallu aunties here…only a mallu gal, who is an aunty to several bachcha log in the family. p.s I never tell lies when I swear on my IPod and lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78 ( at least till this shade is the rage of the season)

4.Dhanush bangalore restaurant: heh heh I know a Dhanush, but didn’t know he ran a restaurant!
[tch tch Dhanush, you could have told me. I didn’t have to find out this way!!! It’s not like I would have freeloaded off you *sniff* I am heart broken and only 20 Butter Naan with 8 plates Chicken Tikka dry from your restaurant will mend it :( ]

5.Mallu Masala: My Amma says that there is no such thing as mallu masala. Of course I asked her dumbo, who else would you think I will ask? Google?

6.Mind Curry: Sounds delicious, is it the same as Bheja Dry Fry? You can get the recipe here and if that doesn’t work I can loan you my mom. She knows 5765598 ways of frying my bheja.

7.Jiby stopped blogging: nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!!!! err...I mean as far as I know he hasn't!

8.Silverine, Bangalore, Communications: Home run!!!!! *Clap* *Clap*
Now do me a favor dear and bookmark me ok?

9.husband crossdressing sarees photos: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Frost Lipstick, Shade Name: GoldPearl Plum - 1 Ea ( the color of the season just changed), that there are no husband crossdressing sarees photos here.

10.Pennu Kaanal ritual (Bride Seeing): I am afraid some of my services are prepaid. Please send a cheque of Rs 5000/- wonly to avail of this service. Satisfaction guaranteed or your search string will be returned back to you.

Thank you, god bless you and the search engines and I pray that you find what you are looking for and leave me angelic blog alone!!

Friday, September 29, 2006

Close encounters of the gastric kind

My mom like most mallu moms, thinks that sleeping without dinner is some sort of a big ‘No, No’… like belly dancing and voting for communists ( the former in her scheme of things is a lesser evil). No matter what I have eaten in the evening she will not budge. Dinner is what she makes, anything else eaten outside the house is not counted. There is no point in arguing with her and so most days I will drag myself to the table half asleep, eyes closed and serve some rice onto my lap and the gravy onto my Dad’s lap, take a bite off the plate and plonk back into bed. Apparently her great great veliyammachi (grandma) would say that it was bad to sleep on an empty stomach. And in my family no one argues with my mom’s great great veliyammachi’s wisdom. She still rules our house with an iron fist like she did a couple of hundreds of years ago.

Mom: Son, finish all the food in your plate.
Son: I have had enough.
Mom: Your great great great veliyammachi used to say…..
Son: ok ok spare me the crap and I will finish the food!!!!
Mom: *contented smile of mothers in TV commercials*

Then came middle school and we started learning about the Human Anatomy in Science classes.

Teacher: The Stomach is a carnivorous organ. It can digest itself and anything ….
Me: You mean it can digest anything like the other organs too?
Teacher: Of course it can digest anything!
Me (interrupting): Oh my gawddddddd!!!!

I nearly passed out in class. After that day I never gave any problem with dinner. I had horrific visions of waking up with all my innards gone because I had slept on an empty stomach and my hungry stomach had made a meal of my internal organs.

In fact I was so scared of my stomach eating my internal organs up that during evening prayers I would wait for the time when we were allowed to say a silent prayer for our personal wishes. My prayers would be something like this.

Dear God, please keep watch over me in the night,don’t let my stomach eat me up…thank you God….oh yes please bless my dogs….and the family too. Amen.

In fact such a catastrophe nearly happened two weeks back. I was scheduled for a Pre Employment Medical Test (PET) at this swanky Diagnostic Clinic (‘nothing but the best’ said HR, with her nose in the air). And horror of horrors… they told me to come for the test on an empty stomach and 'wait for my turn'!!! The receptionist, a recent graduate from the Achumama School of Charm and Faultless English (affiliated to the Uma Bharti Finishing School ),who had clearly bunked classes when they taught about the carnivorous stomachs in school, refused to listen to my pleadings and told me to “stop this naansence, no eating till blood testing!!!”

I resignedly sat down in the waiting room to wait for my turn. It was 8 am. Now, a Diagnostic Clinic (DC) is quite a cheery place if you are pissed drunk or on pot.

Me to lady at the right: I am here for a PET. What brings you here?
Lady: Bubonic Plague
Me: How interesting.
Me to Gent on the right: And what brings you here?
Gent: Syphilis.
Me: How very interesting er…excuse me but I need to go urgently go to the other side of the road.

It was 8:30 am by now and I think my stomach was fast asleep because all was quite in the region of my stomach. Then around 9 am it woke up, yawned and looked around for food. Since none was forthcoming it sort of coughed to catch my attention. I pretended to be busy reading the list of BMTC Buses on the other side of the road. Then it started growling. I ignored it. Soon it was looking very greedily at my Liver….then at my Kidneys...then at the Intestines. ( I am pretty sure I heard it drooling).

I felt it give an experimental tug at whatever it was that was holding it in place to check if it could make a break for it. I silently thanked God for keeping it securely tethered in its place. Soon it was very hungry and angry and lunging madly at my Pancreas and Kidneys and other organs. My turn for the Blood Test was yet to come and the situation inside me was getting kind of desperate. Any moment my stomach could break free and go into a feeding frenzy. Imagine going for an ECG and finding out that you don’t have a Heart, let alone a heartbeat?!!! How embarrassing that would be!! And imagine going for a Chest X Ray and seeing a gaping hole in the ribcage?!! I would just die of shame!!

I desperately tried to remember if the Science Teacher had said anything about the stomach having teeth. I mean, if suppose my stomach was still hungry after eating my internal organs would it then chew on my bones? How inconvenient!!! I was sweating buckets by the time my turn came for the blood test. I have never been so happy to see a Hypodermic Syringe in my whole life (except that one day long time back when my brother had to take a Tetanus Shot…it was pure bliss to see him yowling.) After the Lab Assistant had removed enough blood for the blood test and to start his own Private Blood Bank, I was told to go and have breakfast at the Cafeteria in the DC and get back for the rest of the tests.

Now… a cafeteria in a Diagnostic Clinic????? Hellooooo! Who in their right senses would eat in a Cafeteria run by a Diagnostic Clinic????

Cafeteria owner to lab assistant: I am little short of mutton for the Biryani today; could you spare me some Liver?
Lab Assistant: Sure. That means I get 8 free lunches ok?
Cafeteria owner: Throw is a couple of kidneys and you have a deal.
Lab Assistant: *sigh* you drive a hard bargain. Deal!

So I said a polite thank you and beat a hasty retreat and bought myself a packet of biscuits and completed my tests. In the evening I decided that I will read up more on the Stomach so that I am not faced with such dangerous situations again. I Googled a little bit and then a little more bit and then a whole lot more and could not believe what I read!!!! Apparently the stomach has a protective lining that prevents itself from turning carnivorous!!!!!

*groan* That is twelve years of full tension for nothing. A little knowledge is a terrible terrible thing :(

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Feeling the heat

Yesterday a friend and ex colleague wrote to me.


I have just joined my new place of work. I am having fun ROTFL!!


I was quite concerned by this mail. Now... AA is not prone to laughter or smiles. He is a pucca North Indian kinda guy who minds his own business and sometimes comes to office too. While we are all rolling in laughter at the punch line of some joke, AA looks like someone has just informed him of his Dad’s death. The last time he smiled was when he was stricken with a facial muscle spasm and thus could not help having a lop sided smile on his face for some time. So you will appreciate my concern and alarm for his well-being after getting the mail. Yesterday I chatted with AA over Google Talk to get to the bottom of the laughter mystery.

Me: Hi!!!!!
AA: Hiiiii! Oops
Me: What happened?!?!
AA: The curtain just caught fire *giggle*
Me: Oh my God, go and put it out.
AA: Nopes, it’s too late tra la la la la
Me: How did it happen man?
Me: I breathe fire when I open my mouth you see tee hee
Me: ha ha very funny, seriously tell me what happened.
AA: Forget it.I don’t want to burn down the house tara rum pum pum
Me: Ok, looks like you are a bit stressed, get yourself a cup of coffee and we will talk.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why?
AA: Power cut...the fans not working.
Me: So?
AA: The coffee will boil if the fan is not switched on.
Me: What???? Ok get yourself a beer then.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why???
AA: It will scald my tongue.
Me: heh heh funny fellow. I will wait, get yourself a beer and we will talk.
AA: Naah! If I remove the beer from the freezer it will boil and scald my tongue.
Me: Ok Ok I get the hint, looks like your new place of work is warm, but it can’t be that bad????
*maniacal laughter* Of course it is a little warm, if it were a little more warm like 0.05 degrees more, then I could gather the computer in a bucket and flush it down the toilet.
Me: Oh my God!!!!
AA: I am sitting in a bath tub and chatting with you, you know?
Me: Wow you are having your annual bath? Heh heh
AA: *demented laughter* Verrrry funny but “No!!!!!’, this is what newcomers do here to prevent spontaneous human combustion.
Me: hmm
AA: At work we have showers over our cubicle you know?
Me: That must be to make sure you don’t doze off after lunch ha ha ha
AA: *manic giggle* No, that is to ensure that random fires that break out like when you shake hands or sneeze or brush against another person can be put out quickly.
Me: You are exaggerating right?
AA: *more maniacal laughter* yes my dear I am exaggerating, I am sitting in a bath tub chatting and my arse just got scalded because the water is beginning to heat up and you say I am exaggerating Ahahahaha ...*sniff* I have become very thin too, haven’t eaten since I came here.
Me: How come?
AA: By the time I get hold of the spoon the heat burns the food *manic guffaw*
Me: Take a nice dip in the swimming pool, it will cool your head.
AA: Can’t…
Me: Why?
AA: The water is boiling ha ha ha ha *sob*
Me: hmmm tell you what, you call up a travel agent and book yourself a holiday in Ooty or Kodai!
AA: Can’t..
Me: Why???
AA: Cause the phone melted and dripped away before I could catch it in a mug *LOUD DEMENTED LAUGHTER *
Me: hmm sounds tough man…where are you? Saudi Arabia or Kuwait.
AA: No...I am in a place called Trivandrum …
Me: OH MY GOD!!!! err…I mean I gotta go…sorry can’t help you here… bye bye
AA: Nooooooo don’t go away, helllllp, stay with me, talk with me, don’t leave me *bawwl*

I know when I am beaten. After all there is only so much I can do. If any of you Trivandrumites see a fully ablaze man sitting at the table next to you in a restaurant or at the movies or while shopping at the vegetable market you know who it is. Do say ‘Hi’ to him on my behalf. Err… avoid shaking hands with him.

( This post is dedicated to my wonderful friend and colleague AA, fast being reduced to a puddle of woes somewhere in Thiruananthapuram. Have fun man!! p.s. did I tell you that the weather in Bangalore is to die for?)

Monday, September 18, 2006

Chip tales

The first thing I ever learned to ‘cook’ was a cake. I don’t know how I meandered into cooking amidst my busy schedule of climbing trees, dollhouses and tea parties in those tiny ceramic tea sets. My mother firmly believed that a gals place is outside the kitchen and did her best to shoo me out even if I ventured in for a drink of water. But I guess one cannot resist ones calling and mine was to make cakes. Now, my Mom is not those expert bakers who whip up delicious, flaky and multilayered cakes with one hand and batches of cookies with the other. She made simple cakes. Her idea of baking a cake was, Cake batter plus Vanilla Essence = Vanilla Cake and Cake batter plus Strawberry Essence = Strawberry Cake and Cake batter with dog hair = “ugh how did the dog fall into the cake batter!?”

And this was because we kids hated cakes. We didn’t like any form of cake, whether it was from the small bakery down the street or the fancy cake outlets like Melting Moments or Sweet Chariot. We were just not into cakes. Our birthday cakes was strictly-number-of-invitees-size-cakes and this was to avoid hiring a tempo to distribute the left overs in the neighborhood. Our birthday snaps shows parents with severely strained smiles, trying to shove the first slice down our tightly closed mouths.

We were salty potato wafer (chips) addicts. We could have potato chips as a pre breakfast snack, breakfast, after breakfast snack, pre lunch snack, lunch, after lunch snack, tea time, pre dinner snack, dinner, after dinner snack, homework snack, grounding snack etc. (We would even convert an occasion for eating it, like for an instance...a funeral snack!!)

In kindergarten while other kids bought fancy pastries we took a big bag of potato wafers. Our parents knew that the line between survival and starvation for their kids was wafer thin. At the rate at which we ate potato wafers, my Dad was sure he could save up enough money that would normally be spent on food and retire by the time he was thirty. (And then Lays entered India and he is still working)

One day the kindergarten teacher took a piece of cake from another child’s tiffin and put it into mine. She felt sorry for the poor kid whose parents could not afford to buy her anything but potato wafers. This was desecration of the worst kind and I screamed till I was blue in the face. A harried teacher explained to my Dad between tears that she was feeling bad to see me eat potato chips day in and day out like a poor tramp. My Dad nodded sympathetically and said he understood perfectly and that he and his wife were also very sad that their kids ate like tramps but there was nothing he could do till there was a potato famine or all chip makers contracted some horrible disease and died. (he lived a lot on hope those days).

When we left for family outings, we kids made sure that the we had enough potato chips for the journey, other things like parents, were secondary or not necessary at all. God forbid if in the middle of nowhere we were to run out of chips!!! The very thought sent our pediatric blood pressures shooting up. And at the rate at which we worried about the depletion of our Potato Chips stocks, we were surefire candidates for pediatric heart problems. And that is how the legend of too much salt leads to BP and heart disease originated. There is no truth to the story. Look!!! I am still alive and I have been on a salt overdose since I could pick up the crumbs from the floor (my brother was a very messy eater you see).

One week many years ago I got so much crumbs from the floor that I didn’t eat regular food for one whole week. My Dad thought I was a wonder baby and was planning to call up the Guinness Book of World Records when my Aunt got us a dog…a #$%@^@& dog that loved potato chips crumbs and zapped it up at the speed of a vacuum cleaner on a caffeine overdose, leaving poor me way down in the food chain among the creepy crawlies in the house. (Those were days of hunger, starvation and deprivation that still haunts me *sniff*)

Despite a staple diet of chips, chips and more chips we remained alive and did quite ok.

Mr. M: What do you give your children…they seem so energetic?
Dad (thinking furiously): err..hmmm they eat lots of carbohydrates (remembers that potato is carbohydrate) and err….minerals (remembers that salt is a mineral) and lots of Vitamin E (remembering that Oil has Vitamin E).

Anyway, all good things have to come an end. And so did our old eating habits and most of our parents troubles.

Today...we are a changed lot. We eat our chips with our mouths closed. We also eat most of it instead of throwing it at each other.

(While most gals munch on chocolates to get over their blues, I prefer a slice of bread spread with potato chips, smothered in mayonnaise with another slice of bread on top to chase away the darkest of my blues. The bread and the mayo is strictly optional)

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Settling in

I was actually quite depressed after leaving my last job. Everyday I fought the temptation of calling my boss and saying “I am coming back sob”. Then I reminded myself that my company has a open door policy and so I have all the time in the world to go back. Anyways even my folks thought that they should do something for me to cheer me up of the depression , made worse by the HR Team playing mournful songs at the farewell dinner. Imagine eating your food to “O jaane waale ho sake tho laut ke aana” I was trying hard to control my tears and the gulab jamoons. It was so difficult. *sniff*

Many a resignee have sobbed uncontrollably and got back to work after these farewell dinners. (Emotional blackmail is mandatory subject for HR these days). Those with low will power, make their wife/mom/sister call up and say they cannot make it to the dinner. Anyways the gifts were nice and cheered me up.

~My Mom bought me a Copper ring that she said would keep my blood pressure in the right side of the BP measuring machine (which ever side that is). So I gifted it to my new boss.

~My Dad bought me a new set of Golf Clubs. His old ones are worn out he says. (Of course I don’t play Golf but the thought was so sweet.)

~My eldest brother bought me a new bag, which I have gifted to my maid. She was so happy. She said the color was just right for her. It matched her parrot green blouse and Gelusil pink saree.

~My second brother's gift was a surprise. I am still recovering from the surprise. The doctor says it will take two whole months.

~My dog brandy bought me a dead rat….er never mind.

~My other dog Honey, puked on the bed. As a new job gift she made sure she completed the job on my moms bed. Such a nice dog.

~My other dog did me the honor of not mistaking me for a lamppost. I came to work with dry pants and not smelling like walls you see with notices like "Plis to not pas urin here".

~My old car pool fraternity also gave me a goodbye present…a comprehensive list of BMTC routes, so sweet ( err…but I don't remember telling them of the job change)

I am now almost over my old company. Though I did slip once when I saw my old company’s logo on a computer part and went *sob*. But my new boss was so understanding…he made Sysadmin change my computer configuration. I think I will be happy here.

Monday, September 11, 2006

It's a new day!

Change they say is inevitable except from a vending machine. So true!

Last week I went for an Interview. Yes peoples.. me is changing me job because I have reached a stage where I can come to office, pop a sleeping pill, finish the work in a slumber and then wake up all fresh and dewy at 6 pm and go home. In short…I needed a desperate change of bed er…scene.

So moiself hoisted my carcass from me comfy seat and went for an Interview. I was sick as a dog that is very sick and was hence was not in a very good mood like a dog that is very sick. Fortunately the Interview got over very fast. The last incumbent in this company left in a bit of hurry you see (he cleared the window in one dive I heard, since then they have put stronger attrition resistant glasses on the windows and doors.) So my interview was rather hurried, though very very thorough as befitting the HR practices of a big company.

Mr PP: So you married?
Me: No!
Mr PP: Boyfriend?
Me: No
Mr. PP: When can you join us?

After that exhausting and mentally draining interview, I had my second round with my to-be Boss.

Boss: I guess you have been briefed about the job.
Me: Yes!
Boss: I believe in people who work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised.
Me: Sure!
Boss: So what can you say to add value to your resume?
Me: I can work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised ?!
MK: Welcome aboard!!!

The last round, a formality was with the HR Manager.

HR: We are not any other company; we are a big name in the industry you know?
Me (muttering to myself) : Keep repeating that and you will generate enough hot hair to pack up the AC plant.
HR: Did you say something?
Me: Nopes
HR: The people working here are from premier Institutes and hence the intelligence quotient is very high.
Me: (muttering to myself) : So what are you doing here?
She (muttering to herself) :I know what you are thinking, so what am I doing here right? Chit of a girl bah!!! I hate your type and if I were 85 kgs lighter I would give you a run for your money.
Me: (muttering to myself) : If you were 85 kgs lighter you would still look like a pregnant Hippo.
Me (aloud) : Wow!!! I am impressed.
HR (aloud) : Thaaaank you… welcome to the organization, it is very nice to have you with us.
Me: The pleasure is all mine. (muttering to myself ) What a lot of bakras to write about, this is going to be a blogging gold mine yipeeeeee!!!!!
HR: Did you say something?
Me: No no, I am just wonderstruck at the possibilities in this company for me.
Her (tilting her head and smiling patronizingly and pinching my cheek) : Soooo sweeet. All the best deeeeeeear!
Me: (tilting my head and smiling equally patronizingly keeping my hands away from slapping her cheek) : Thaaank youu!
HR ( muttering under her breath) : Bitch!!!
Me: (muttering under my breath) : Bitch!!!!

And thus moiself sits in a new chair....... and I am feeling sleepy zzzzzzz

Good night folks...

Monday, September 04, 2006

Shooting in the dark

This year when I came back from my Nilgiris trip, I excitedly told everyone in my amateur birding group that I had seen a rare bird. “Look!!!!” I said pointing to the black speck on the photograph excitedly. Now, we amateur bird watchers are a very competitive and determined lot, full of love for birds, enthusiasm and josh.

A: I saw a Tickell's Thrush (a bird) the other day.
B: F@#k I swear if I don’t spot one by this weekend I will hunt and kill all of them f*#&ing Tickell's Thrushes.

So it was with a great deal of resentment masked by a tight smile that B took the photo and peered at it and then exclaimed with a triumphant snigger “ahem, I think, this a speck of dried butter chicken gravy”. I snatched the photo from him angrily and examined the photo. A little bit if scraping and the dried gravy came out. I looked hard and found what I thought was the bird and triumphantly showed it again to the group. But try as hard as they could they could not spot the bird. And that is when I realized that I needed to buy a new camera, one that would take pictures of birds, large enough not to be smothered by butter chicken gravy.

Till that day I had nothing to do with cameras. I was a binoculars person and knew quite a bit about them too. I scoffed at the bird photographers in our group lugging expensive camera and zoom lenses around while I skipped merrily ahead with my binoculars. Now I realized that they were not such a bunch of fools as I made them out to be. At least they could show the picture of the bird they had ‘shot’ and say “See a white cheeked barbet bird’ While I pointed to a random blot on my photograph and said “See a white cheeked barbet …I swear this is a white cheeked barbet, God promise it is a white cheeked barbet …someone please believe me *sob*’.

So I called a pal of mine who is quite a sensation as a young and upcoming wildlife photographer (YAUWP).

YAUWP: You want to buy a camera? Why…you plan to ask the birds to say ‘cheese’? HA HA HA!!
Me: Grrr er…heh heh very funny man but ‘No’. I need to prove what I have seen da. So please to help me out.
YAUWP: hmmm ok here’s the deal. To get a decent bird image, you will need a camera with a 300mm telephoto lens with a 1.4x extender. For smaller birds, a 600mm lens is required. Your camera should have manual override of automatic functions. A camera which does not let you chose the exposure and focusing point blah blah . It's also a good idea to have things like depth-of-field preview and some form of mirror lock up blah blah.
Me: Huh???? er…I mean thanks a ton da, you have been such a help, gotta go now, bye.
Him: My pleasure, do get in touch with me if you need any more help...
Me: *SLAM*

After that enlightening conversation on buying a bazooka and assembling it, I decided that I will go it alone and called the Directory Enquiry service. After telling them very reassuringly that ‘YES’ my email ID is definitely lalapaloosa and ‘NO’, it is not a fictitious ID and that the last email ID, was ‘NOT’ fictitious but was suspended due to disuse etc., I managed to get a couple of Camera Shop numbers without giving out my actual email ID.

I was sure I would walk into a camera shop, pick up a nice camera and show it to Mr. YAUWP with flourish while he burnt in envy at the beautiful pictures that I had taken. So it was with such nice thoughts in my mind that I walked into this snazzy shop on Brigade Road.

Me: I want to buy a camera.
Salesman: What camera do you want?
Me: Huh? Er…something for bird photography.
Salesman: Do you want a SLR or DSLR, Pro SLR, 35mm Rangefinder, Medium Format, Large Format, Medium format rangefinder…
Me: *gulp*
Salesman (patiently): Ok I will simplify this a bit, are you looking for a Point and Shoot camera, Prosumer camera, Professional cameras or Digital video camera.
Me: er…can you simplify it a little further?
Salesman: You have no idea about cameras do you?
Me (miserably) : No.
Salesman: *sigh* Shall I suggest something?
Me (brightening up) : Sure!!!
Salesman: Why not go for a nice Binocular?
Me: @$#%@^@&

I guess I will stick to birdwatching.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Beery important traditions

Sunday afternoon… and as is the custom passed down to my family by our achayan (Syrian Catholics) ancestors many many many centuries ago, my Dad was having his Sunday afternoon Beer. This tradition was first started by my great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Mathai Thommachan Phillipose Abraham Kuriachan Varghese Geevarghese K. (Some people say that this tradition was started even before the invention of Beer).

Since then no men in my Dad’s family have broken this tradition except that one day, two centuries ago when there was a big rain and my great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Thomman Isaac Patros Ouseph Chacko Bartholomew Alexander Anthony K could not find his umbrella to go to the kallu shaap ( liqor store).A total of 7568587 masses were offered in 7568587 churches to appease our male ancestors for that single transgression. There was another transgression when my great great great great great great great great grandpa Aloysius Basil Cyril Emmanuel George Ignatius John K contracted Small Pox and died on a Sunday without having a Beer. Then there was yet another instance three centuries ago when my great great great great great grandpa had a severe hangover and slept through the Sunday. By the time he woke up it was already Monday but he had the Beer anyway.

The family journal maintained by my Ammachi also mentions another trespass when another great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Lukos Michael Philip Raphael Stephen Tony Zachariah K was in jail and hence was not allowed to have a Beer even though it was a Sunday. He filed a case of ‘Unimaginable Cruelty’ and the case is still pending in a lower court. (We achayans take our Sunday Beer very seriously.)

Beer has had several notable effects on our men. For example, it has served to loosen the tongue of our men who are actually a reticent and decent lot (when they have not had their Sunday Beer)

Achayan to prospective Achayathi: Ahem…hmmm…err…
Achayathi: Aiyyo!!!! Speak up man or has your mother cats got your tongue?
Achayan: Ahem…hmmm…err…

Same scenario after a Beer:

Achayan: What I was trying to say pumpkin, before I had a Beer, was that if your father is willing to give me that Rubber Estate on the hill then we can be wed in Holy Matrimony!
Achayathi: *blush*
And they lived happily ever after. (See? The power of a single Beer!?)

Anyways to get back to the narrative, this Sunday we had only one big bottle of beer in the fridge and both the brothers were not at home to share a bottle with Dad. I never drink during daytime and my Dad will have only one glass of beer. Now my Dad like a true achayan didn’t want to waste spirit, ( a sacrilege among achayans punishable by one whole hour without alcohol of any kind, even the ones doctors use to wipe your hands before injecting you with distilled water) but the tradition had to be kept alive at any cost.

So moiself in the name of all that is holy and sacred to our ancestors, agreed to split the beer with Dad (for the sake of family honor wonly, mind you!!!!)

I poured the beer into two beer glasses, but there was some left over in the bottle. So I drank that. Then I realized that the beer glasses were full and we both like our beer topped with some Sprite. So I, like a dutiful daughter took a large swig from both glasses ( to make room for the Sprite of course). I then tasted the beer and Sprite mixture, it was too strong….there was too much beer in it. So I took another large swig from both the glasses, but by now there were four glasses in front of me. I then realized what I had overlooked when I poured the beer…that we have guests in the house. So I poured some beer from the beer glasses into the new glasses and spilt a whole lot of Beer onto the table. What can I do when the two new glasses were appearing and disappearing in front of my eyes?

I tasted the beer again. It was still too strong and we, i.e Dad and me like our Beer mild. So I had another generous swig from the glasses and this time I saw 8 glasses on the table. Now I am a peace loving, M&B reading kinda girl. But I hate uninvited guests. But then back in the good old days many gene pools ago, my ancestresses, a long line of hospitable achayathis were known for their generosity and sharing spirit. (and that was because they didn't drink beer and hence did not have to share it).

So I decided that I will share the Beer with the eight uninvited guests. I poured the Beer from the two glasses that I could grasp from the table and poured it into the eight glasses...

...and it was because of this reason, that the great great great great great great great great great grandson of my great great great great great great great great great grandfather i.e my dad, committed the shameful, dreadful, appalling, shocking, grave and unforgivable trespass of not having a Beer this Sunday. *hic*

Friday, August 25, 2006

Testing times...

According to a recent news report, Medical professionals and Medical Insurance companies are at war. Apparently Insurance companies do not want to reimburse big medical bills of patients, and want doctors to prescribe less expensive treatments. This is being construed as interference by doctors who allege that Insurance companies are now advising them on treatment.

Doctor: Nurse, this patient has Brain Cancer, we will give him a Pre-Irradiation Taxol Administered as a 96 Hour Infusion followed by Irradiation 9-Amino-20(S)-Camptothecin (9-AC) Administered as a 72 Hour Infusion and in the third phase ....
Insurance man: er…..sorry to interrupt doc, but don’t you think a 'Crocin' will do just fine!?

The Insurance companies on the other hand are alleging that doctors are piling up huge bills by ordering unnecessary tests and procedures when they see that a patient has medical insurance.

Doctor to patient (gravely) : I am afraid you have Coryza ( common cold).
Patient (aghast) : Oh my God that sounds horrible!!!! *sob*
Doctor (sadly) : Yes, it is terrible!
Patient (breaking down) : No no no...
Doctor (soothingly) : There, there, all is not lost. Here is a list of tests you will have to do so that we can commence treatment immediately! Everything will be just alright after the test er...I mean treatment.

List of tests and procedures:

Abdominal MRI
Barium Enema
Cardiac Blood Pool Scan
Decompressive laminectomy for spinal stenosis
Fasting Blood Sugar Test
Gallbladder Scan
Hair transplantation surgery
Ileorectal anastomosis for ulcerative colitis
Joint X-Ray
Kidney Scan
Lactic Acid Dehydrogenase
Neck X-Ray
Obstetric Ultrasound
Paternity Test
Quick Strep Test
Radical prostatectomy
Skull X-ray
Thyroid Biopsy
Upper Gastrointestinal Endoscopy
Vasectomy reversal
Weber Test
Xylose Tolerance Test
Y ( oops no tests beginning with Y)
Z ( ditto)

Patient (looking at the list) : oh my gawwwwd I am going to die isn't it? *waaaaah*
Doctor (sadly) : I am afraid so, if I don’t have the test results quick. And *sniff* don’t forget to tell the Lab that I sent you!

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

A color by any other name...

Conversation in the cafeteria today:

Gal 1: Did you see that Reshmi’s salwar? What UGH color!!!
Gal 2: What color was it?
Gal 2: It is was such a horrible shade of red …dunno how to describe it.
Me: Like MS Word colors ?
Gal1: Exactly!!!
Gal 2: *ewwww* Horrible!!!!!

Thursday, August 17, 2006


Independence Day holiday was a day of great languor and tremendous inactivity and the only physical movement I made that day, was get up from the floor every time the dogs pushed me down. It’s been a long time since I watched TV and I had almost forgotten how the contraption worked. So I curled up in bed with a cup of tea and two dogs and several ticks who were actually uninvited but I couldn’t do anything about it as they were my dogs guests. The ticks were very well behaved though.

The Television or TV for short is a wonderful and entertaining device. It shows a lot of commercials, which are sometimes interrupted with a few programmes like soaps, talk shows and News. The commercials being shown these days are just “wow”. Some of the commercials I liked are given below.

Pepsi TV

Kareena Kapoor: Hello viewers, today I shall show you how dumb you all are. *giggle* Have you heard of Pepsi TV? You haven’t? Me too. *giggle* But if you watch TV while sipping Pepsi, you are all dumb.
Priyanka Chopra (smiling coyly at viewers): I second that clever observation Kareena. These people are so dumb.

Pears Pink Soap

Mother: Kids, lets show these dumb people how we dance and sing on a weekday morning when most people are rushing to work and school.
Kids: wheeeee
Dad: And watch me lounge around in white pyjamas expressing amazement at this pansy pink soap while I should be stuck in a traffic jam on the way to office but since I am a model I don’t have to.


Wife who spots hubby eating in the park: Look at him hog pani puri while he tells me that he is out jogging!!! Grrr I will teach him a lesson, I will buy Saffola.
Husband carrying wife: Wheee, see I can carry you; you have become so light though you bought the oil for me. Thank you saffola!!!

Nestle Munch

Rani Mukherjee: See me sit on the ship and eat Munch, yummy!! Why does this guy want to stand with me like Leonardo De Caprio and Kate Winslet in Titanic? I will just push him down the ship and then throw him the lifejacket.

Kellogs Cornflakes

Mom: Rahul please show these stupid people that you know Savita maasi’s number by heart because you eat Kellogs Cornflakes.
Rahul: "Twenty eight multiplied by three is eighty four, divided by two is forty two, so the number is 28384242"
Mother: Amazing!!! Come let us sit and eat Kellogs Cornflakes together, chumma just like that.

Krakfin Airhostess Training Institute

Poha Ali Khan: Arey Radha, what are you doing in that nice IT job that you can retire from? Dont you want to be an Air Hostess like me eventhough I am actually an actress and am only doing this for the money?!!

Friend: What to do I am not the daughter of an actress like you!

Poha: So what ? Krakfinn hai naah.

Poha and Friends in Air Hostess Costumes: Look at us... when you pass out of Krankfin you get to wear these cool Air Hostesses clothes and a certificate to boot too. See us pretending to fly with our arms stretched under an aircraft taking off breaking all aviation rules. You too can pretend to fly too if you join Krakfin.


Ajay Devgun: oops my daughter just dropped Tomato Ketchup on my shirt.
Kajol: Thank you dear daughter, now we will show these people how Whirpool magic will wash and remove stain which can be done by any other washing machine too.
Whirlpool Stain Wash ke six sense. Hotwash aur one-two, one-two handwash mitaye chhey ziddi daag for perfect dhulayi.

Next day getting ready, Ajay Devgun deliberately drops some ketchup on his white shirt. As his shocked wife and daughter ask the reason:
Ajay: Fight scene hai …besides I don't know what else to say this script is so stupid, so just look indulgently at me you two.

Maggi Noodles

Autorickshaw Driver to Priety Zinta: Madam panch rupey aur doge though I dont know why I am asking for more...
Priety Zinta: Will you take Maggi Noodles? Because it is only five rupees and I can go and buy one and give you one instead of giving you five rupees as you asked.
Autorickshaw Driver: Maggi noodle aur panch rupey mein?
Priety Zinta carrying a Maggi packet and singing: Maggi chota pack, bas panch rupey ka only.
Sanjh subah har bacha khaye, lehar mazey ki daud gayi.
Kyon kahin aap bhi bekhabar to nahin. Maggi noodles ka chota pack...dam sirf paanch rupey
I-know-I-am-making-no-sense-but-what-the-heck-I-get-paid-to-sing- carrying-this-stupid-packet. I-hope-it-is-not-carcinogenic-but-I-don’t-care-because-I-don’t-eat-it.

Saffola Mom

A football match is in progress on the school grounds. The rain comes down in torrents, but the kids continue the game. A Saffola mom carries an umbrella and runs behind her son like a moron, shielding him from the rain.

The first half of the match was tied at 2-2, since Mom prevented free play with her umbrella, however the Non Mom Team reflecting their brilliance went ahead, pleasing the crowd, then Mom came in between and Sons Team not only equalized but went 2-1 up. There were cheers as we hear Apne bache ki dekhbhaal ke liye aap kitnimushkilein uthaaiyegin? NayaSaffola NutriBlend, jismein hai...internationally research kiya gaya Oryzanol aur Vitamin E. Aapke parivaar ki surakhsha ke liye...Saffola.

Even my dogs groaned and covered their eyes with their paws at this juncture.

There was no second half in this game because by now the message was loud and clear, "avoid playing with boys whose mom uses Saffola"

I swear after this, the ticks jumped onto the remote and switched the TV off. But no one believes me.