DESI RERUNS

2011-06-21T20:55:00.000-07:00

Faith is a fickle co-passenger. Alternately, you are the fickle one and Faith chooses to abandon you because you lack conviction to walk the path with faith.

2011-04-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

Few things kill a relationship like conversations lost to the wind. I have been thinking about this for some time only because I have realized that always applying logic to the reason why people don't have stimulating conversations 'anymore' won't give you an answer. All it will give you is an excuse. The other thing which kills a relationship are excuses.

Though nothing kills a relationship like a 'wise ass'.

Now this wise ass prides himself not only at being a Practical as well as a Logical god's gift to the world heavily lacking in the aforementioned category of wise asses!

Its rather a combustive reaction when you catalyze the above with a fair dash of 'I know how things work in minds of 99 percent of the human and 72 percent of animal species'

So when things go south and the wise ass can't say much to protect that holier than thou are cause well basically his priced leg down his throat. How to make a conversation interesting? Well, don't think... After a while you really just talk without an agenda without attempting to do anything other than just doing the obvious.

2011-04-04T00:36:00.000-07:00

Will he or Won't he?

So I am happy to say that I have started on to what I am going to call a training procedure worthy of a Rocky film. The only thing missing is the focus, the determination, the grit etc.

I am only relieved that I have started on my three point agenda.

So, I joined the weekly tutorial for that real big competitive exam! ( Yeah, like that's something new)

Now, will round it off with a work out ( makes me sound big and tough and hence I am using the term 'work out' and not saying will go to the gym!)

Haven't really taken a picture since the wee hours of 3rd April. But yeah...

Peace!

2011-03-30T01:17:00.001-07:00

This Phase of my life is called 'STRUGGLE'

There is a Three fold attempt that I am going to try and make in my life.

1. Clear a competitive exam emphatically

2. Get fit, lose the paunch

3. Take good pictures.

While I am working...

Now, tough as it maybe for me, I would for once want to make an effort and be honest. I am going to do something I had thought I would never do, well what's new!

So, I am going to try and put down a sort of progress report each day for the next four months and see if it helps me achieving things I didn't think I could.

Let's see how this goes...

2011-02-03T02:34:00.000-08:00

Losing my Mind!

What do you use to get you through bouts of panic? Should you give in? Should you act as if you are oblivious to it? Should you get all philosophical to deal with panic or should you get spiritual?
I am not even sure what 'Spiritual' means or 'meditation' for that matter. I only understand vaguely the difference between religion and spiritualism.
When I hear people say that they meditate to remain calm, focussed, in-control etcetera etcetera it makes me really curious about what is it that goes on in their minds when they are meditating. Are these people more in touch with their spirituality than I am? Or is everyone faking it.
What is fake? IS there really a difference between fake and authentic? What makes something real or unreal? What is the illusion which makes us believe in things as a 'TRUTH'?
Is there really a truth? Does the word mean anything but accepted propaganda? What is it that makes something an accepted way of existence but well rehearsed dramatisation of a well thought out game plan?
Aren't things just two sides of a coin. Each pointless in its existence without the other? Nothing exists as individual or exclusively. Probably why we as humans continuously aim to project an image of 'Assured Individualism'.
Is communication a bane or a boon? Did we complicate things too much because of 'thinking'? Are we in anyway better of than our cave dwelling ancestors?
What is happiness? I can't understand the concept of it. Same as I can't understand the idea of being peaceful or content.
Am I forsaken by illusions?
Am I schizophrenic? or delusional? or maybe bipolar?

2010-12-28T07:55:00.000-08:00

An Ode

Silent Winter night in North India is very very still. Dead quiet. An Unfamiliar phone rings with crudely. I ignore it but the dread numbs my befuddled mind as I sank deeper into my quilt. I was half hoping that I had just made up the phone ring as the night grew cold and silent once more.
The second time the quiet night was shattered was a phone ringing which I couldn't have ignored even though my mind told me to do exactly that.This time my father picked up the call and as I was urging my mind to ignore the part of the conversation I could barely make out, My Father came to my room and told me why our night was shattered.
Can't say if I was sad, happy or heart broken... I can just say one thing, I couldn't cry. I won't. This isn't the time.

There is lots to be done... I don't know what but lots needs to be done...
She has left us, me...
I can't let despair choke me...
_________________________________________

There is not really much to say but I want to document this moment and its feelings. I have lost someone very pivotal in my life. Someone who can never be replaced. Someone who I never will have again. I can't even begin to express the sense of loss I am feeling in words but I believe this moment needs to be captured for posterity.

For as long as I can imagine this person has been an integral part of my life. I have been cared for, loved, fed and missed regardless of my returns.
Thinking back in time, I only recall the white hair, the spectacles and the saree.
She was always up at the crack of dawn and at my bedside, calling out my name with a warm glass of 'Bournvita which would be returned casually if the milk was either too hot or to cold depending on how much I wanted to sleep. Patiently the glass of milk was always reheated or cooled to temperature which fancied my whim. Before I decided to get out of bed and get ready for school.
She introduced me to countless things, the first few were the many walks we would take in Jalandhar, where she discovered 'Satsang' as I discovered my power to get things from her which I wouldn't get sanction for from my parents.
I became her sole supporter where 'Satsang' was concerned. I remember this one time which fortunately was etched in her memory too. Early one autumn morning, She decided to visit Beas, some hundred odd kilometers from where we lived, to meet her Guru. She always walked to Satsang in those times , come to think of it a good 3 kms, She had to leave in good time to catch a transport along with the others going for the same purpose. I suppose she was waiting for the dawn to break and needless to say was getting late by the minute and fidgety. She was scared of the stray dogs which lurked on the roads in the dark. I decided to accompany her and we barely made it in time to catch the overcrowded truck which would take the party to Beas and back by evening. I was jubilant and basked in the glory of this heroic act of support for many years. For a ten year old I was very excited to have done something brave. Made me feel so grown up.
She bought me countless GI joes all through my growing years. Initially, she would walk with me to the market and let me choose the toy I wanted to pick. While I selected the best G I joe she patiently stood behind and let me muck around while I made my choice. The last pair of GI joes were bought when I was 16 years. Those two are still with me. A lot more cherished than before.
____________________________________________________

My father is a tough man, very emotional but tough. I have never seen him break down and his grief was etched on his face.

She has lived with my father for all of my 25 years. HE has been a good son, I had no idea how to be half as good in his time of grief. He was parentless and even though he is 55 years old, the ten days before this night broke into our sleep cruelly, I have seen in him a young boy filled with despair and helplessness, seeing someone so precious to him wither away.
_____________________________________________________

At 3.30 am, the fog mirrored our grief as it shrouded our car in a dense shroud. Driving blind, the three of us- my mother,my father and me- were all bent out awkwardly. Not knowing what was the right thing to say or do.
A day before when we had come to get her examined, she was quiet and distracted. Appalled at being carried down by me. The ambulance was the worst contraption ever and it hurt to see her so uncomfortable and so, so silent.
Carrying her was my pleasure but she has always been so independent that seeing her dependent for the smallest of activities was cruel and painful. Her illness had reduced her to half her size. I just wanted to know what was going on in her mind as she sat sleepless night after night. Each morning saying less and less. I can't get over the feeling that I didn't take her discomfort more seriously and considered it a by-product of weakness after an illness. The question that I failed her, illogically perhaps haunts me.
And the one thought which keeps coming back to me is that I didn't visit her enough, call her enough.

_____________________________________________________

She hated the winter. The right thing to say is that winter hated her. She couldn't stay away from the kitchen and she would wash everything- vegetables, utensils- so as to make everything absolutely clean and nourishing. Eating the countless lunches, the amount I cribbed and criticised what she cooked on rare occasions, as she was a fabulous cook, makes me feel thankless. She would always cajole me to eat the vegetable I refused to eat because it was green with a smell or the wrong shade of yellow.
She used to let me have a few sips from her extra sweet afternoon chai. I know I was the only one among my siblings who ever had this pleasure.
She would also give me the malai she would remove from the milk in afternoon with extra sugar.
She warmed my glass of evening milk in the tea leaves used by my parents to make their tea, so I could live out my whim of feeling older when I was waist high.
She made the most delicious 'Gujias' for me every holi in bitter winters. And large quantities, so I would never find them less- The more she made the more I found them less. I would never ever taste one as heavenly as those 'Gujias'...
She would put special chuka in my dal.
There are innumerable incidents which make me feel more special then I can tell... I doubt I did anything half as comforting for her as she did for me all my life.
She hated falling ill when I was home because she wouldn't be able to make for me all that I fancied.
_____________________________________________________

At 6 pm, a half dozen hours before we were rudely jostled from our deep sleep, we- my father and me- had gone to visit her in ICU. Eight hours earlier she had been put on the 'DI' List ( Dangerously Ill). My father seemed unperturbed at the news as apparently this was done as a procedure and didn't always mean the worst.
We saw her unconscious and half asleep, the Doctor had ruled out anything mental and instead told us that she had a brain infection and a powerful antibiotic had been administered. This seemed like progress, right? The illness was detected and medicine administered, soon she would be free from the shackles of the oxygen mask and the various painful drips pumping in her frail body the glucose she couldn't consume herself.
I am not sure what I was feeling at this point. Seeing her in a restive stupor indicated an improvement. She didn't respond to my father's touch nor to his voice, neither mine. I hope with every inch of me that she heard us. God would be very hard hearted if our words didn't reach her.
We left cheerful and informed everyone in the extended family that she was on the mend.
______________________________________________________

Calling anyone at 3.30am is not a pleasant act and when you are relaying bad news its beyond horrible. What's the right thing to tell a son that his mother has passed away? What do you say? Is there a way to comfort family members when only a few hours back you have conveyed that all seems well?
I hated the sound of my voice and every word I uttered sounded hollow and unfeeling to me.

______________________________________________________

Her body could only be collected after 10 am. Everyone would have arrived by then for the rituals. I was waiting in her room.

Staring at a pair of woolen socks she would have no need for anymore and a chair, a bed and clothes she would never have any need for. It all hit me then. It sucked my very breath. I would never see her covered with the many quilts. I would never see her smile at me as I enter her room to make random jokes. She would never call out to me to remind about something she had told me twice before. She would never call out to me and ask me to reduce the television volume.
What has left me inconsolable is the fact that she passed away in the dead of the night surrounded by strange people in a strange bed, in a room which wasn't hers, in clothes which wasn't her saree or her self knit sweaters. Without anyone holding her hand. Without her family for which she worked tirelessly. Wordlessly she left.
______________________________________________________

I had mumps as a child and she played carrom board with me all day long. She let me win a lot.
______________________________________________________

Her last wishes? She wanted her last rites to be of as small a duration as possible. She wanted her organs to be donated.
______________________________________________________

Carrying out her lifeless body from the morgue, brought to my mind the last time I carried her down the stairs to take her to a hospital and how light she had become. Losing the soul makes a body rather heavy. Her body cold, all her warmth spent during her life on all those who mattered to her the most. Her body dressed in the Saree I had bought for her at Diwali, the first saree she hadn't even looked at when I gave her, it irritated her that I had bought her a new saree,"why do I need new saree?" She said irritably. Selfishly I turned away hurt.
While everyone grieved over their loss and I read a few pages of Gita for the peace of her soul, I realised how irrelevant this time spent with her body was and how little time I had spent with her to let her know that she was important, it disgusts me that I was so self involved all my life. Even my realisation now seems pathetic and churns my tummy with revulsion.
As her pyre dissolved her into wisps of twirling smoke and the heat of the pyre warmed me to the bone on the banks of river Ganga, I realised that she still had so much warmth in her.
_______________________________________________________

My Father's mother has passed away. My grand mother has gone. She left alone. No amount of tears will make up for all my mistakes and carelessness towards her... But I hope for an instant before she passed away she was happy knowing that she was loved and respected and would be missed.
Hope she 'Rests in Peace'

2010-06-03T09:04:00.000-07:00

Contrary to popular belief screw ups really never have any saving grace. In my case, when I screw up things and even when it is by repetition of the same idiotic, I sometimes feel like I had no clue while the said screw up was in the process of its existence and my screw ups are always very very disastrous. I mean thank god I am not the president of US otherwise Bush would have gone down in the history as not so bad president.
I can't tell you how much I want to beat myself up and reduce me to pulp. I mean who repeats screw ups again and again when clearly they are not so cool in real life! I mean its like Sanjeev Nanda smacking his head after crushing people under his imported car.
I can't describe how completely damaging these stupid screw ups are... I wish I wasn't a screw up!

2010-04-23T02:43:00.000-07:00

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!

There are occasions when you wake up and think 'OH WOW GREAT MORNING' and bang Murphy, the son of a sick gun takes you down with a blow below the freaking belt and even as you are trying to get your breathe back holding your crotch in the most comforting manner, the maggot infested, manure releasing barf of a freaking megalomaniac Murphy, kicks you on your back side and to show his obvious superiority, he kicks you between your legs again!

You, meaning me, are one of those freaking idiots who actually make it a point to park your bike in a legally allowed parking spots, on many occasions you miss half a party while you are diligently looking for another legal parking spot, that your bike would never be towed by half obnoxious illiterate men (who will now be referred to as 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo') who pick up a quota of bikes everyday and more cars most times just to make a point that because you, meaning people like you and me, who can afford a vehicle and the fuel which goes with it are really the reason why he, meaning 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' was born demented with donkey's shit for brains.

And the thing is that the idiot that you, meaning me (right), are you also believe that since you wear a helmet and carry your insurance and registration with a legal driving licence, which you acquired after you turned 18 years old, that you would be in no trouble with the over weight paunchy traffic policemen as you, again meaning me, are also an imbecile to ride your cruiser bike under or exactly at the speed limit... You just are so naive to think that if you do all that is legal you will still be told by snot filled 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' that you had parked your bike on the freaking corner of a no parking zone and the corner is infact the bloody border which makes 0.000002 % of your bike parked illegally! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!

Oh but that's not it... at the very moment when 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' is actually loading up your prized and much loved motorcycle into a truck not meant to hold a bicycle forget a motorcycle costing over 1 lakh Rupees,you still think that you are having a great day!!! It's when you step out of the bank you entered after parking your bike 0.0002% illegally that you realise that you don't see your much precious piece of machinery from where you parked it and right that moment all music goes mute, thoughts of the beautiful women you are besotted by evaporaates, your mouth goes dry and you realise that you have been violated by three very hot bars of iron have been rhythmically moved back and forth inside your posterior very rudely by half imbecile half senile incompletely formed sons of fungi ridden mule dump 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' have towed your bike because they felt that in their immense wisdom of 'what's fair and who deserves what' they believe that your bike is illegally parked on a corner which is actually a border to the illegal parking area and if only I had parked the bike a single devil forsaken lousy millimeter back I would have been cool!

And there method of informing me that my prized and much loved and hard earned two wheeler is not stolen but towed away is by writing in an acronym with a piece of chalk on the road which I am supposed to decipher while keeping in check my indignation, BP, and WHY ME WHY ME? charade. Now, turns out 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' don't give a damn whether I am late for work or i am a patient of rectum bursting with poop and blood when faced with situation of stress and brain function requirement...

SO, SBC and or SBG because the last letter wasn't very clear or coherent. turns out 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' who are competent in destroying someones great day are not hired on the basis of their level of literacy or calligraphy, hell! they aren't even hired for the high negative IQ... Infact, it isn't known on what basis they are hired knowing as they aren't sure whether a board says NO PARKING or otherwise because you know what they can't read!

Turns out it was a G and not C and which stands for 'S bridge' and BG is an accepted acronym for the word bridge or so the knuckle headed 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' PhD holders in acronym creation believe it stands for...

The situation goes beyond ludicrous when I arrive at the police booth where paunches of various shapes and sizes were decked in uniforms of various shades of dirt and the mouths attached to these paunches a little way up had no clue where my towed bike was or when it would get there. What else do you expect from bodies which are actually boasting of just four parts- Hands, Paunch, Fat Ass, a mouth and stubs to help them shuffle from loo to chair! They are medical marvels as they can function without one or two very critical parts, like brains with some logic!

SO once my bike is brought and I am told that my bike was towed away on a technicality which doesn't even exist or is by any wisp or stink of a fart true, I am asked to pay up for four seperate charges and these multiple offences were figured by the paunch and mouth alone without the help of a fart or a disgusting burp! And while I was reeling under the weight and the size of the fine and the miracle of a being functioning without a brain or logic, I realised that I was way beyond firing stages late for my new job and that I was way beyond frustrated to lose my temper and call the paunch a twerp and kick the entire brigade of 'Highly Stinking pair of Tight and Constricted Speedo' in their nuts for telling me that I had parked illegally that I just whipped my wallet out which has more visiting cards than currency notes and gave the paunch what was asked and kicked started and got the hell out from the 'Buffoondom of Freaks' to save my job by begging in defense having done in by the Above mentioned Murphy and his freaking laws!!!

Needless to say I don't think I am employed anymore... Oh no thats not right, I'm employed but feel raped!!!

2010-04-21T02:11:00.000-07:00

SARCASM IS DYING!!!

The problem with thinking that you are sarcastic is that you never really think you are sarcastic enough and when your girlfriend who is very important to you tends to dodge the import of one of your most sarcastic comments because she doesn't appreciate sarcasm or wants to understand its importance in your life then so as to have a simple life without fights or arguments you just tend to stop being sarcastic and then start feeling that you aren't sarcastic any more...

Now, to really be able to stop yourself bursting out with sarcastic comments to most things you observe around her, you find that you are infact controlling yourself in other situations as well so as to not lose control when you are with her and this is a vicious cycle.

But the thing with being sarcastic is that you can't be controlled for too long and then you try and find out loopholes where if you are sarcastic and make sure that it isn't directed to the girl of your dreams you may just have a chance of her laughing at your clever observation which is entirely pointless in my case cause the lady in question doesn't believe that sarcasm is really an earthly creation and hence doesn't really give a rat's or any other rodent's posterior about whether or not I am a gifted and practicing sarcastic!

Though, now, most people would say that putting a bar over sarcasm would make me seem like a better, much nicer human being... But you know what that is entirely always wrong because I abuse more at traffic junctions and most times loudly to vent my frustration at the silly bloody dodo who thinks its fun to back out his truck right at the moment when the lights have turned green, so he could take a U turn! And when you abuse what tends to happen is that you are most always saying something rather offensive to not just the abused person but his family and ancestors! But the bigger problem is that everyone on the bloody road seems to believe that they deserve to be abused and so they retaliate by wanting to beat the living shite out of you and since you are a Gandhian you just trip him before he gets to you. But the thing is that when atleast half a dozen people with guilty conscious thinking that they deserve to be abused turn to beat me up because they feel that I am the best way to vent their frustrations of warring wives, untoward kids and ugly bosses rather than the fat sweating stinking nincompoop because of which we are all stuck on the road without AC because he is fat sweating stinking nincompoop then I really wish that I could have been my mean sarcastic self because it aids in survival and that is all Darwinian...

Atleast if I was sarcastic then none of them would have the brins to understand or if they had the brains they would have appreciated what I had said rather than wanting to beat me up for an abuse not intended to abuse them...

I can guarantee world peace with sarcasm... But the cutest girl on the planet won't get it and so you my dear half sarcastic friend can only but abuse to keep your BP down...

2010-04-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

Its been sometime since I put my finger tips to computer keys. Its not my laptop and the thoughts don't seem mine either.

Have you ever been in a situation where a constant feeling of nausea knocks every clean breathe of cheer out of your system, where every breathe you take makes you want to cringe and lose yourself into a corner where you can easily never have to surface from and are forgotten as someone who could have been and just couldn't be because of lack of a certain large dosage of moral fibre?

Why is it that when you so badly don't wish to be an angsty poster boy for the 'Pathetic loser of the year' thata's exactly when there is no way you can be anything else? Why would certain existential questions be so much more than existing? Why is it that you can't be more like a cliche and why do you need to be this absolutely different person?

Is there anyway possible that you could sift through the bullshit you feed people and the bullshit they hoard on to you? Why do you need someone to care for you? Why do you need them to think the world of you? Why do you need company to feel good about yourself? Why can't you just be? Why this need to please the world? Why the heck can't we ever just be? Why this constant need to belong? Why this need to be known?

Why is an image so much more than the real deal? Why need an approval from someone? Why be so eager to be whatever the world wants you to be? Is there any unique self or is the world just made of the same stereotypes which have stemmed from faulty prototypes of narcissistic depraved attention seekers?

IS the world cleanly divided into winners, losers and the pretenders? And who exactly are you in the world you make so much off? IS there really someone you can call your own? IS it really so wrong to actually give up and realise you never really couldn't have managed to go all the way or that you really could never manage to honour your words? IS quitting really not the right solution?

IS happiness an illusion? Do only people with faith acquire happiness? Do some people love to be unhappy? Does love really exist? Why do you need feel good qualities to exist? Are we any better than other organisms?

Why do I hope against hope?

It takes a really stubborn naive idiot to believe in things I think I believe in. I can't be sure about anything and I never really believe anything but the worse case scenario. Is it because it is easier to believe that bad is bound to happen and I don't have any control on it? Signs of a weak character. A hero has weak moments but has the strength of character to battle the weakness. I know a hero I am not... I have only heard of them and it now feels like I misheard...

Is it all a lie?

2009-07-19T00:07:00.000-07:00

Minimum Self's Journey to the alleged Maximum City!!!

I am making another move! I wish I could say I am making another movie but Alas! that's not it. I am moving to a city which petrifies me. It is part of my country but it has a vendetta against those who come from the north of it. So, on occasions the people of the city I am petrified off beat the so called outsiders for taking over what is theirs, the insiders so to say. I am not sure what to make of it all cause I don't give a damn!!!
These groups of spattering insider crowd can't keep me out of a part of country which is mine (by way of being its citizen not out of royalty)... even though I'd be kept out without too much persuasion from other places which are also a part of my country but are always in a constant gun battle... Ya! I am not too much of a brave heart though I guess if in recession I was offered a job in another city where gun battle ensues I may just go there as well, just so I have a tale to tell.
I have been called a story master! Not because I can tell a story beautifully but cause I wove stories to get out of tight spots. It isn't a complimentary title FYI...
After having strayed off the beaten path into bizarre like a blind and buggered sense less Cow (Yes! its a pun, Staying at home has converted me into a likeness of a upright Cow, NO! I don't give milk and grow UP! all you people make new cow jokes... Also yes a guy completely out of shape can also look like a guy which is Cow in Hindi!!!)
Oops! I did it again... No I didn't do a Britney, though she wasn't so bad when she was dancing in school mini skirts... BAH!!! What I meant was that I strayed off the topic I wanted to vent about and the topic was me shifting base to this big hunk of a regionist metropolitan legend.
Now the thing is I would at some point like to give my first impressions about the city but the city has been scripted and talked about at such stretchy lengths that I would have to do a lot of copyright infringing to find words which would express my pseudo intellectual first impression of this city...
But then again... How would that be any different from what you guys read all the time?
:-/

So without further ado... I'd like to invite all those who actually stumbled on this piece because you were bored, or were looking for porn, or wanted to read some good net lit to my tame and utterly passable take on my most recent move!!!

PS: With an absolute straight face laced with no sarcasm or devil may care sneer... I'd like to say if you have read till here your reading is appreciated. If you haven't read well then you won't know how I abuse the NON-READERS!!!

2009-02-12T07:03:00.000-08:00

SHIT!!!
HOLY CRAP AND THE DEFINING MOMENT GALORE!!!

I can't help it... I mean I think my share of life defining moments is bigger than everyone else's...
I mean within days of being literally drowned in puke I was in a state where my dignity and honour and chastity could be questioned and very much maligned.
I mean just why do I experience such defining moments? Well mostly cause I'll be great and you know other things which legends are made of...
SO Just how many times have you needed a hole/ a pot/ foliage.. some water and well if not soap then some leaves(rather big ones!!!)?
What I really want to ask is that exactly how many times did you feel the need to relieve your intestines ruled over anything on the face of the earth?
And when you are just writhing with the gases doing its rounds and you desperately searching for those four walls to keep your glory intact and you don't see any loo around and you go mad... I mean how many times has it happened to anyone else?
FINE!!! FINE!!!
I didn't ask you shameless loose boweled people to raise hands...
Alright! So all of you at one point or the other needed to use the public convenience is desperate hurry... fair enough... but did any of you feel the sensation of losing control of all your being while you were live on national television giving astute (YA RIGHT!) credible (SURE!!! SURE!!! WHY not !!!) factual (Will you stop it!!! You crack me up Since when is NEWS REPORTING WITH THOSE QUALITIES... YOU ARE SURE YOU WERE REPORTING FOR NATIONAL TV AND NOT COLLEGE BULLETIN???) report of how things are at the airport my bowels (don't mispronounce its not BALLS spelt wrong...) took control And with the mike held under a guests nose I started dancing so as to try and cajole my insides to stay ummm INSIDE!!!
YES DELHI AIRPORT HAS NO GOD DAMN toilet where when in emergency you can relieve... I knew it but I flatter myself so much so was certain I won't be bothered by the lack of convenience.. WELL I WAS PROVED WRONG BY MY OWN BLOODY BODY and NO!!! I DIDNT HAVE THE CHANCE TO SAY ETU BODY...
I just finished the live with a look on my face which suggested that I had other important things to do than MY JOB!!!
While I was locating a car to get to a nearest LOO... I received a call... The conversation goes something like this...
CALLER: (He spoke really slowly like he had all the time in the world) pRICKY
pRICKY: (who the fuck would it be if you called pRICKY???) YES????
CALLER: Next live at top of 9 am...
pRICKY: Can't do it... Personal crisis... Have to find a toilet and I think I am going to be very late getting to it...
CALLER: OH... EWWW... ARGH (HANG UP)
I was jumping talking to strangers deliriously hoping against hope that someone could help me to a toilet... I am certain I was jumping much higher than JUMPING JANE (Refer to last post)... I was positively leaping... NO not with joy... I mean I was wearing my brand new LEVIS... I REALLY COULDN'T... The thought itself was painful... I can't I just can't lose the battle now....
SLAM!!!
The car arrived... I banged the door and pleaded/ ordered/ abused the driver to get me to a bloody toilet. The great man promptly pointed me to the vegetation on one side. I ignored the very welcome suggestion. Still trying to keep my dignity... Got to a stinky SULABH TOILET and relieved myself thanking all my GODS and ANCESTORS (GOD BLESS THEIR SOUL...)
THE best FIVE RUPEES I ever spent....
AH!!!! ULTIMATE RELIEF...
PPS: pRICKY is experienced in pooping in DTL (Deep trench latrines) MILITARY
as also in VEGETATION
also behind rocks and on river banks...
even though he has experienced the best, most comfortable and very expensive loos... HE still loves the riverside relieving experience...

2009-02-11T04:13:00.000-08:00

I AM NO SUPERMAN...

I promise solemnly that I had nothing to do with being puked on…

Great people always mention certain life altering moments. I am not sure if these moments come face to face with only a few or whether everyone has the privilege of acquainting themselves with such moments.
Moments, which are supposed to shape your life in an inspiring manner. Let’s just say that certain moments provide a certain spice in your life. They are supposed to be the highlighted few which come to your mind and make you wonder how in heaven’s name could you be selected for a moment as defining as being puked on?
That’s right! Entire gut contents spilt on your only pair of jeans.
And what is the feeling like?
Hmm let me see… I felt like an idiot for not thinking! I mean who, exactly who makes a rather ill person sit between two people in a car ride through peak traffic hours? And did I mention the ill person was choking??
Also did I mention that I was thinking that if the person puked I would be in the direct line of fire? But did I make the person comfortable and get them to sit near a window? NO!
There is no easy way of saying it… so I am just going to say it…
One moment I hear ‘ I can’t breathe’ the other ‘ ough… gouugh…’ you know the oft heard puke sounds… And the poor person did try to dodge me but considering I was plume in the zone not much the poor food allergic could do…
Oh! Didn't I mention… Yeah the person suffered from a severe food allergy which by the way I wouldn’t even want my worst enemies to go through. In short what this allergy does is it grows things on you. NO! I don’t mean weeds, it just makes you go bumpy all over and you wish that you could scratch yourself all over like a flea ridden dog!!!
You might think I am exaggerating but I am sure you would give my credibility more credit once you have seen the above mentioned person jumping literally through the roof!!!
Now, let me also mention to all those sick people who would make fun of such a serious situation. While I was helplessly shrugging saying crap things like ‘Are you feeling better?’ while she was ready to punch the wall to distract her from the 'itchy flea' sensation and saying that the world has suddenly turned yellow. The song yellow started playing in my mind. I know, I know I am very cheap.
While, the world turned uni coloured to our ‘jumping Jane’ the doctor’s assistant decided that ice was the remedy which was all that could contain the allergy. Meanwhile jumping Jane started drinking water absolutely neat. Bottle after bottle. Dev D and Devdas be damned!!! THOUGHTS IN THE HEAD: If Jane faints then there is no way hat I could lift her like a hero not cause she was heavy but cause I was in a shape best associated with a potato.
But the distinction of conduct in a situation of stress would go to Dr N and a close run up would be dear Jane. I am certain you would agree.
While Jane was half carried and half pushed into a CRV, which was in a cameo as the ambulance, was quite exhausted by the various itch sensations she could feel. And as the poor dear girl was writhing for some oxygen and looking all around for help and in all this carrying herself impeccably was being explained by Dr N what the scientific terms of her allergy was and consequently stripping her.
I was doing best to utter comforting nothings in a deep heavy and reassuring voice. Considering I have neither depth or weight in my voice, it sounded very squeaky. But I don’t think anybody cared too much about my voice then.
That’s when Jane decided she had enough of my squeaks and took things in her own hands and opened her gut to my jeans and my wood land shoes while apologising, which I must add is a feat… I mean there was only as much you could do… Spill your guts or apologise about something you couldn’t have helped.
Also I need to remind you that Jane puked in a Honda CR-V…
Well, We made our grand entrance into an expensive hospital with dirty toilets, they smelt dirty…
And while I strutted from one room to the other after depositing Jane on an expensive bed trying to walk normally as if puke wasn’t slithering all over me. I could hear Dr N giving courtesy lessons to Jane who decided to stick her tongue out cause it felt dry. All in all it was an experience of a life time. I mean I hope by saying this I would never be puked on again. I think I have had a defining moment too many!!!

For all the impertinent people out there, the jeans have been washed and I also get a new pair for my very overrated services for which I gloatingly take more credit than I deserve… What can I say I was a hero who saved the day!!!

WARNING: pRicky is known to glorify and exaggerate about himself more often than not his role is minimal if not non existent. He continues to be the ass you all adore absolutely useless!!!

2008-01-24T17:37:00.000-08:00

A Natural Alcoholic

This would come as a surprise, No, for people who have seen me being a wuss when a drink was being offered in good spirit my confession would come as a downright shock...

But halt just one moment... I have a tale to recount. After which no would blame an innocent li'l boy like me and the things which occured last night...

A fellow reporter gets a transfer and a farewell party is arranged. Dear pRicky makes it the last. And is asked what drink he would like. Which He declines immediatly. It was a kind of denial which is stupid enough to think that it would be obliged.

As luck would have it. The boss over heard that pRicky has never had a drink. She felt obliged to sit pricky down and asked for a drink for him. Then an entire office and a boss on his side he was cheered into downing a rum ... Bottoms up! NOTE: This was his first glass of the drink.

pRicky is thinking. I am going to puke, get high start talking crazy, worse still I might be a weepy drunkard...

But the same horrified people who I mentioned above would now be even more shocked to know that not only did pRicky do a bottoms up but then all through the evening he was made to drink the aforementioned rum in every version possible. With coke, with water and to make things merrier... I had it neat as well.

Now, the most interesting bit about the evening. pRicky didnt puke, wasn't high nor did he lose coherance...
Which brings me to give pRicky the title of a natural alcoholic...

2007-12-29T22:43:00.000-08:00

An entire wasted pause…

The second last day of this year begins in exactly thirty seconds. I have thought over this year so many times I just wish it had taken me some where. At the expense of another year, I should have evolved and I suppose I might have but then the idea of having paused in a certain existence, a certain mood…
Its like things have stopped in motion.
It would be stupid and completely unbelievable if I said I didn’t attempt to shift out of this pause but somehow things remained frozen whatever my act may be.
I laid a thousand lies. To myself and as it is proven to most around me. Isn’t something not believed by a majority turn to be a statement of a fantasy which couldn’t be reality.
In most essence what did this year start with? What did I think I shall achieve out of it? I do know I told myself I could be a better person. But I think I just gave up on that bit at some point or other. I feel it probably was about me never having attempted. I lived in a wallow of deep hate and anger.
I am sure my room mate realised all of that but knew there wasn’t a point in pointing it out. She knew I was changing right there in front of her. She knew I was being someone else.
What does it change in essence? That’s one person who knows how things have gone from everything to nothing to knowing that some are just meant to be together. However hate or love some things are made to be a part. There are no names… I guess it was good to know that at least three people knew I was making it a point to waste myself in a pause. I am quite thankful. I know one other almost figured so…
I am quite uncertain if things are going to change quite so much with this year. It’s about what you say and what you mean. Trust and hate, Love and loyalty. I suppose you only feel only as much in these as much as you choose to be. I have been at the both sides of all these and after a while I have started agreeing that what I thought of myself was something quite otherwise. Untrustworthy and disloyal would be apt.
If pauses could be examined it would be true to notice that the anticipated pauses are something which are merely acted out. Other pauses, you just ease yourself in. It’s called a crisis. It would be easier for me to be one or the other kind of stereotype of existence, since unique is just poetic bullshit. Everyone is like any other, wrapped in their own sense of different idea.
Ignorance of not having common sense is one thing but being aware that you are stupid and acting otherwise is something which you can’t come to terms with and when it’s you whose acting then the coming to terms is even more improbable.
It would be entirely another case if you were a wimp but acted otherwise. Cause that just shows, if you live like a door mat. But are you prepared to change it? Not quite, cause take my word I am one and I just wouldn’t.
I am sure the easy answer would be to stop being a sissy but it’s easier said then done. Actually, when you are a wise guy wimp then you most certainly don’t change. You only take offence and act you are hurt at having being called the wise guy wimp…
So does being close to 2008 change anything. Yes, I suppose it gives me a chance to be cruel but I guess I was always known to have a tendency for being cruel. I think things would work quite well… After all, existence would continue in a pause. I would keep acting as a misunderstood honourable genius while being aware of being an idiot and a wimp.
That’s the thing about pauses they create images usually illusions…

2007-10-03T23:16:00.000-07:00

Almost a nasheri!!!

So I went and parked Bajaj right in the middle of the road. Now I just didnt do so cause I had lost my mind but this is where the parking is supposed to be done. I get a parking ticket and take of my helmet in a filmy ishtyle and shake my head and hope that I would seem like one filmy hottie I just get poked by my hair in my eye and some in my nose which makes me sneeze. Rather nosily. I am sure some thng flew out in the face of another guy who was whizzing past me at just that opportune moment. I think it was gods way of providing him with natural moisture to his face...
I come back to retrieve my Scooter and I take out a tenner to pay for the parking.
He, the pot bellied, tikka sporting parking attendant, looks at me from top to bottom. I squirm but act as if it doesnt puzzle me after all i stand a couple of feet above him and I really hadnt done anything to worry na...
He: dus ka nahi chalega. teen rupey do. Khole do.
Me: (with an amused actually relieved grin) Nahin hai.
He: mein kya karoon phir?
Me:( in an aside) Chai pilaon kya? Choota karao, aur kya?
He: Kay saab!
'Saab'
He had saab. Yes, now I can be all superior and arrogant.
I wish I had said nahin chahiye kya but with the same amused grin. I offered him the dus rupey ka note.
He: Wait karni padegi.
I just shoved my hands in pocket (my pockets of course!!!) and stood around being a cool guy. I remembered not to shake my head again.
He abuses some guys mother and another’s sister and expresses what he would do to his daughter and wife to another and cribs about lack of change to a ten rupee note.
He comes purposefully towards me and gives me a dilapidated five rupee note. I look at him and accept it. He saw my look and turned apologetic.
HE: Kya karoon saab, choota aisa hi milta hai. Agli bar yehin de dena mujhe hum chalalenge is ko.
Me: yaad rakhoge kya?
He: aapko kaise bhool sakta hoon?
Kyun mere saar pe seeng hai kya? I wanted to say but desisted I was scared he would say nahin jungle hai.
I stand around not doing much but standing around.
He walks back his hands full of gutka packets. In a rather awkward position of hands he puts in my hand a one rupee coin and one sachet of gutka.
I waited for an instant thinking he would pick up the gutka. I looked at him. He returned my gaze.
Me: yeh kya hai?
HE: Saab sabse badiya gutka.
Me: To mein kya karoon iska?
He: Ab saab paisa nahin hai to yeh dono rakh lo.
Me: Arre par mein to gutka nahin khata
He: to shoro kar lo saab. Acha hai yeh. Bidi se acha hai.
Me: Arre mein bidi nahin pita.
He: Yeh cigerrate se bhi accha hai
Me: Arre! Mujhe nahin chahiye yeh gutka
He: Saab kaunsa brand khate ho? Wahi laa deta hoon.
What is with this guy. I am sure he was employed by one or all of the PR companies of the gutka makers.
Me: Dekho. Mein nahin daroo, bidi, cigerrate or gutka kuch nahin letta. Mujhe bache hue paise do.
(aside) arre meri shakal pe likha hai kya ki mein full on nasheri hoon???
He: kya saab. Aisa kya karte ho. Hum kya borre hai?
Me: Nahin tum to bahut acche ho main hi burra hoon.
He: Saab actually paise hain nahin agli bar le lena. Mein aapko hamesha yaad rakhunga.
I cant even convert how much two rupees would be in pennies and I took my scooter and with an exagerrated throttle I made myself scarce...
Aur kya karta?

2007-10-03T21:11:00.000-07:00

Tribute to a lost suitcase which had no suit in it!!!

I am careless and I lose things. Actually now I construct situations because of which I lose things. Its been a few days now since I have been allowed in through the customs to the nation to which I boast as my own. Like I went and bought it or some such. But I feel the more you take something for granted the more you consider it your own. See I can give out statements which are quite utterly irrelevant to the entire scheme of what I intend to say in the first place. I mean I digress too much. But that's something I cant be helped with. You know we men get distracted quite quickly by the mobile beauty all around us.
While I dodge the brick bats and others, I shall continuing the heart wrenching tale of me having lost some of my oldest companions and some recent acquired and utterly delightful ones and some odd and ends moments which are now only in my head. No back ups.
SO if some social worker drunkard truck driver plowed me with the rear wheel of his pig transferring stinking sty of a truck before spitting on my soon to be crushed head then those companions and moments too would be evaporated. and the pity is I have no USB port installed into me or a DVD writer or bluetooth so I could transfer it. I cant even get a human compatible printer so I could get print outs so all in all they would slowly melt away na?
It really is torturous and tumultuous to remember the small messages which those companions had scribbled into them, they came with the associations you made with the people who became your family away from family. Those awards which you fought hard for. Those gifts which you begged for and those which came unexpected. But mostly the words written in by friends and authors who you considered your friends.
Those words I remember. Those words which I consider a complete mockery because they weren't true. Those words which displayed amusing associations. The books given to reassure by the people that they are around.
Signatures of all those with whom I was familiar with, some more than the others.
" Most promising speaker of the year"
" Come back fast. YOU owe me a question"
" From a person who you love to fight with"
" Don't be down. When you reach rock bottom you will find me there."
" Hope you enjoy this read"
" Many happy returns of the day"
" to the best bhaiya in the world"
There are some moments in your existence which stand starkly, frozen but not cold. There are books which you had but never read but would have someday. I know now I should have read all those I had. If I could have written an ode it would be to A dictionary, some books and two comics. All I do is smile with nostalgia of having them with me for comfort and having lost them with callousness.

2007-09-21T20:00:00.000-07:00

London:

I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

To each one his own interpretation of the above. London was a myth, a mystery. I am not sure but I lived London. One year of it.

The rain, The snow, The grey clouds.

Each step, each sight
Overwhelming tales of time,
I walk a child with wonder in eye
That child be me for all my life.

All stone, all dark cloud
Fascinating the entire rain,
I walk each time to feel the warm chill
That chill, the frozen cold broken, be me.

The wind, the cold metal
London, you walked me through
Tales in my head...

I mused and to end I must halt,
I stared through your skies
And bid adieu to musing of you, with you.

As melancholy lays and be me,
I bid you with a fond hug.
This be a double adieu.

My silence for you!!!

This is the end of London musing and Desi. this should have finished on 12th sept but I didnt. No harm done though. this is as good as any time

But didnt a great man say at end we begin again. So forget your brains at home my friends. Because this would no longer be known as the DESI and this address would no longer be the same.

Change is a near good thing. Yeah right! Stuff it whoever said that. If Hutch can be Vodafone and still use the pug well then I suppose DESI RERUNS and desimusing20-19 wouldnt be a bad campaign either.

Its a good thing that I wasnt imprisoned on account of cooking, which can be compared with the destruction nukes can cause but I am glad to have escaped like Monte Cristo. But I rather need a panache to be able to carry of the return with as much finesse.

HEY! I JUST RHYMED... THIS IS TO REMIND ANYONE WHO WILL HAVE THE TIME OF THE DAY THAT THE NONSENSE RETURNS AT A DIFFERENT ADDRESS WITH A DIFFERENT NAME so sit back and roll over cause the age of sense has had its day and the bedazzling age of the ever popular uncouth slothish extremely buxom sinfully naked nonsense returns ...

Namaste no more... This is the disappearance of Londonmusing... PUCHIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

2007-08-28T09:58:00.000-07:00

THE SISHTER(S)

25th January 1990. I was not yet five. To be precise, I wouldnt be five for another six months and thirteen days but what happened on the mentioned date gave me the status of a big boy instantly though obviously not over night (bio books say it is usually nine months but I guess storks do visit and since I love stories then and now... I believe the status was over night and hence more dramatic). Regardless of what might be conceived, This isn't about me... And yet again it is all about me.
A bundle wrapped and very silent in my mom's arms from the door of the MH ward is my first memory. My mum was in pink and black cap with a bundle of clothes, the clothes were actually wrapped around a blob who weighed more than me at birth (this info I was given later in life when I understood these things better. you know the time when you are wiser... ). I am not sure if I was excited, My memory fails me. I dont remember any time before this blob came around. I have no memory of being jealous because of her, My mum, dad and gran remembered me like always.
I do remember jumping on my mum's bed for hours together to get the the blob to smile or cackle. Toothless as the blob was! I remember the times when I would push the blob no more in a pram all over the place. I remember running to school in our bus. I remember being cruel to the blob. I remember not being concerned about the blob who called me bhaiya, who topped all her classes effortlessly, who was the most beautiful, the cutest. Who would smile or sulk in the heart melting manner. The blob was always made to be a brain box. The blob would sit on my study table and go through books without tearing a single one ever. The blob has taken a day off from school just because the blob was always stubborn and the blob got scolded rather royally. The blob was the most beautiful on Diwali in the very pink lehnga.
I have been angry with the blob because the blob never got scolded about studies. Always topped and I adored the blob because the blob was utterly to adorable.
I have been very very cruel to the blob on more occasions than I would like to admit. But I know them all. And there are moments I still remember the day it rained cats and dogs and the time when it flooded our school and the school was called half way through. We were put in a bus and asked to leave. I was taken up by a fear. The blob was not in the bus. This would be the last bus home (which wasnt true as I think in retrospect) but I begged the driver to give me five minutes to fetch the blob who was in first class (note the blob was so smart the teacher felt no need for the blob to do UKG and the Blob topped even being the youngest in class). I pulled the blob from the perfectly orderly line explained to no one and made the blob wade through a flood to reach the bus. I was being foolish and each time when I have thought about the day I have felt even more foolish but I would do it again and still be foolish than to have the blob make way how a bhaiya less blob would.
But I have also remember the time when both of us went out armed with pichkari's and water filled balloons and colours (the complete artillery for a good day on holi) and I used the first balloon as target practice on the blob's face. before bursting into tears I saw the blob's trust flowing away with the tears and that wasnt the only time...
The blob made birthday cards for me and wrote me letters and unbelievably missed me when I was away from home. The cards always said the best brother in the world and so did the letters. They always reminded me of all the times I had been a brother hardly.
The blob loved the first cake I made.
The blob lobbed a tennis ball at me for hours while I batted. The blob played and paused and played and paused while I made lousy attempts trying to dance (The blob though was a natural at Ekpal ka jeena and other confounded steps which Hrithik shows off with)
The Blob has let me eat her food when I have been greedy. The Blob has kept more secrets than I could ever imagine. the blob has scolded me as though it was the Blob who was older.
The Blob has always responded to all the names I have given. The Blob started reading and debating. The Blob has become far from a blob. The Blob still laughs the head off when I do my eccentricities of imitating the Spiderman or do ludicrous imitations. The blob doesnt know that as old it grows I can still see the Cutest most adorable girl laughing when she laughs now.
The Blob went ahead and became the head girl of her school and topped her school with science and comp in her 12th. With 98 in maths.
The Blob is my adorable Sis. I have hardly given her anything but I have thanked god and parents for her existence in my life a million times.
This is the fifth raksha bandhan I have missed. I have had her Rakhi on my wrist and I am superstitious about them. I feel protected with whatever she chooses for me to tie on my wrist.
I can go on and on and on... and on and on...
But when I called my sis this day and she said I love you... i walked with the memories of the times when I have shamed her and asked for forgiveness...
-----
The Blob never had a choice but Angel of Dusk did and she still chose to tie me a Rakhi or attempted to in the four years I have known her. I havent been there for her as much I should have been But she still chooses to associate with me... I called her... She picked the phone. She knew who it was. And she was surprised again that I was flattered for her to think of me as she did.
-----
Ujju, had it thrust on her. She couldnt help it. She is the surrogate sis for a simple reason of her mum being my surrogate mum. I am not sure she was to happy being accorded the status of being sis to me but she couldnt help it... I couldnt reach her phone... the Nut!
----
HIDI doesnt even know she would ever be on this list but she is ever since she wrote me a mail. I have always considered her the ELDEST and she is the coolest and too cool for words which means the same as coolest but what the hell? she is the coolest... and she also has been burdened for no fault of her. I wished I could have called you today...

2007-06-29T14:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes words dry up!!!

Its nine pm and the the sun rays are just bouncing of the roofs in a final showdown of a day which seems everlasting. Summers have days which make up for the lack of them in winters. I guess there is a said or unsaid deal between summers and winters. Summers will take care days and winters will take care of nights.
I love summers and sunny days make me think differently and ponder unusually.
I am not romantic this is different form being a 'romantic' and well I have no skill whatsoever in the way of getting things to seem like poetry but every now and then it happens.
And I usually would never ever let it see the light of the day but this is about words and I have a serious affection for them. This it is the result of a muse.
The background is that i walked back form a very boring day at this internship and I have done my share of nothings through the day and wasted another ones of gods beautiful masterpiece - TIME- this creation in its various forms adds up to a day. So in short I wasted another one but this day i actually witnessed the untampered beauty and well unconsciously acknowledged it to my muse... the play list at that time with no act of mine on my roommates PC was playing the following:

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This is without intentions of any offence to all the phenomenal poets I read and with every apology I can gather if the poets who are legends turn in their graves. I blame my muse and the beautiful sunlit extra long day. One of nature's supermarkets special offers.

Words dry up sometimes

The final rays of sunlight touch the roof

And you wonder when the moon will kiss the roof

Its is midnight after all

Words do dry up

The void of the drought

Where do I search for the words which are now lost

The desert heat would be pleasant

The storm of the sea cozy

But the thirst parches

As the words dry up

And when the words dry up

The revival of every word is utterly obnoxious

Words dry as i think of you

Words leave me

As I wonder

Words orphan me as you spare a thought for me

Words ignore me as I see you walk

Words kiss you as does the last rays of sunlight

Moon greeds after you but words leave me never to return

As your lips move my words bid me adieu

A million needs to express

And words dry up when i see you

Words thy slave, leave me at the .sight of thou

A plunging fear of vacuum

As my words are wordless

They are meaningless to you

As words dry sometimes

Blood freezes in a sneeze as my words dry in a steam

The disdain of your stare takes my courage and leave my words dry

Words no longer recognize me

My clairvoyance lost at the glance from you.

Once more please forgive me. I have already blamed and you can take your wrath on the blamed.

2007-06-07T10:39:00.000-07:00

BITE OUT OF THE APPLE OF YOUR EYE!!!

Its a fact. Men are simple. There wants are few and they are satisfied by little. This I of course use in a marginally exaggerated manner. As I watched Paaji with the APPLE of his eye walking out of the tube station, the ecstasy on his face was infectious.
He was committed!
He had been contemplating for days to commit but each time he got cold feet of indecision. There was also times when he was distracted from his real love and he was actually giving a serious thought to proposition another one and commit there.
He was being very meticulous about it and was logically explaining himself how he needed to be practical.
I guess he never had a chance. Paaji and I go back not very long but a little bit.
We have scaled a couple of hills. And I guess climbing hills together and then climbing them down gives you time to talk about a lot of things.
But he has always loved the Apple of his eye even then while we were climbing the hills up and down and even when he was checking out the view which wasnt the nature around him but something more delectable as he tends to describe the views.
Now how he came to get back on track and get committed is something which is not unfathomable to me cause I was the one who would take the credit of enticing him towards the Apple of his eyes though I quite had the hots for it but Since Paaji is well Paaji and I am the sacrificing kind of a guy...
Anyhow Paaji would now be more accessible and we would be connected thats if the net obliges and since it hasnt got anything to do with the high performing apple of his eye we would just oogle at her and I would dream when would she be mine while Paaji can sigh in bliss...
Its something about the macs which make you want to go all open mouthed...
Though I am loyal to my beautiful and sexy Lennovo checking out an apple is granted right?

2007-04-10T17:00:00.000-07:00

The hum drums!!!

Beep! Beep! (You have been introduced to THE PHONE)[Well it went off again, It doesnt go off too many times but it does from time to time and with the same tone of voice at the other end.] People are either calling to tell me where I screwed up or where my need has arisen.
This morning once more I was confronted by the oft heard and now expected " pRicky... Do you know the access code to RP1???"
pRicky with natural optimism and absolute cheer " Don't know, I am not sure" (Now thats the thing I am never sure... and my first response to things always is I don't know. I think I should just record it and keep it...)
The caller" But I need it... If you could jsut give me the code..." Now of course you need it. Otherwise why in hell's name would you call me? But I really didn't know.
pRicky suggested " Call the HOD... she will have it..." I also feel I suggest way too much. I mean who am I???
The Caller in all propriety " But do you think this is the appropriate time..."
I now completely blew away... flabergasted pRicky ventured " how the hell does it matter if its appropriate or not? And when will it be more appropriate than Nine in the morning?" I also conveniently forgot that I am rude and very insensitive bordering on crude more times than not and people often say its easier for me to be sarcastic than anything else... Well, what can I say people measure me just about not absolutely wrong...
The caller " But I dont have her number..."
Now when was the last time when solution of one problem didnt follow with another?
pRicky " Ill find it and give it to you" Now how and I want to knwo hoe will you do it? Are you the freaking Interpol? Why? Why do you have to find out?
TAP! TAP!
on the shoulder...
" you aren't allowed to use the phone inside here..."
Now why the hell not??
Well cause I aka pRicky was in the library and it has a swank name to top it off THE LEARNING RESOURCE CENTER so obviously any other reason well wouldnt be expected as there wont be another reason if truth be told. Some rules are just so they fill the whole A4 sheet...
I am also highly obedient so I instantly after assuring the shoulder taper bent down to tie my shoe lace which needed no such attention and continued my convo but the caller had hung up and my awesome movie learned and perfected trick went, well, unfilmed. Well Hollywood's loss... What can I say?
I dont know what got into me. I walked across the two blocks. Went to a techs room.
Negative! They didnt know it.
I didnt have much trust in the number I had found.
But this caller for some reason was counting on me...
I hate it when people count on me. Most times they just want to get some work out of me other times lik this time they count on me... And I am also the king of disappointments...
All my life and till date I have been scorned at made fun of and even been laughed at about my basic understanding and practice of Mathematics.
But when I walked back... with the caller in the RP1... It was strange...
No one would still rely on my maths and on anything else for that matter... I would neevr be helpful with any kind of mathematical conclusions. I wouldnt be able to do the Milk monthly bill... People would wonder how on earth did I actually do 12 years of mathematics and still be so bad at it...
C8647Z
I'll know them if not remember...
-------------------------
I had lebanese Breakfast at six thirty in the Evening... It was yumm. I have never figured specific times for food. They don't matter to me anyhow
-------------------------
Went to the Natural History Museum...
Man! My mouth remained open in WOAH!!!
All through...
The dinos... I am still to speechless...

I love MUSEUMS>>>>>>>
THE PICS ARENT GOOD BUT HEY I WAS MORE occupied making WOAH sounds... Little boys were wondering where I had come from... I can give boys a run for their money at any age when it comes to acting their age...

Cool Slideshows

----------------------------
Saw the most beautiful creatures and man they were sexy...
The four wheeled beauties...

Cool Slideshows

-----------------------------
T's mom came and left. It was quite awesome. We were a gang (or atleast I like to imagine we were and T and T's mom might disagree and if not for being nice and polite they might deny the claim but nevertheless) when it came to pizza's and generally eatable stuff.
It was real refreshing to have her around. She was more fun than ever. Even more cooler than ....
this is where I should stop talking...
But anyhow she was to catch her plane back to India.
So T and I accompanied her to the airport.
Now I have said this before and I say it again I hate riding in Buses and We were travelling in it and I was not happy one bit...
I tried standing but was feeling real umm Ill just say sleepy to protect my image I was actually nauseous... Darn it!!! I said it damn...
Anyhow, I had a bag with me and I put it on th seat next to me and Another thing I realise each time I sit in a bus is that I dont fit into the seat and so I managed to position in a way that I went into a fitful nap.
Next thing I knew, the bus had stopped and someone had whisked away the bag and ran out...

I bolted out. Not as fast as I should have and not in as cool as people usually do...
But I did.
Thought 1: I am running, damn I should have worn shoes... (I was wearing floaters and I never wear them ever)
Thought 2: Ill start sweating in my sweatshirt... I have no freaking clue why I thought that??
Thought 3: I can see them... He is trying to give the bag to the other guy... the other guy hasnt realised what the first guy was trying to do and I could see them still... Shit what if the bus would leave...
Thought 4: Ill get beaten up today... Why me? why me??
Then I saw that they threw the bag and I picked it back and yelled an obscenity... ran back to the bus... Saw relieved T and T's mom... I felt like an idiot for not being responsible...
I would like to have said I caught the guys and punched them both but I can just say I wish...
I am quite glad that they threw the bag and left cause I really couldnt have afforded another broken specs and I didnt want to be beaten up...
well anyhow... My London bus to Heathrow journeys are jinxed... It happened in the winter in What the fog...
------------------
T is the most darnest thing to have around when she is afflicted by the attack of the sleep. It quite awe inspiring and tremendously powerful sight...
------------------
Played with Chinese.... Basketball...
My flukes should be the stuff with what legendary golden flukes are made...
It felt good to be on the court but ...
-------------------
Scotland calling...
Je suis Prest!!!
If only...
------------

2007-03-26T15:24:00.000-07:00

pRick in the side of Desi!!!

Smile an everlasting smile
A smile could bring you near to me
Don't ever let me find you gone
'Cause that would bring a tear to me
This world has lost it's glory
Let's start a brand new story
Now my love right now there'll be
No other time and I can show you
How my love
Talk in everlasting words
And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I'm here if you should call to me
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away

Thanks to one of the best voices I have had the pleasure to hear, I heard this song again. I have sung it and I cant sing but I did sing it once with all I had needless to say the words were not believed...
A caution: To anyone who by worst of lucks has chanced on this rambling, I issue a statutory warning- THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG...
----------
Its been a very confusing for the weather in London. Its been quite indecisive. Absolutely unable to figure which side of the fence it should be stepping. It might have lost touch with time in all probability and hence couldnt quite figure out if it was time for spring or winter.

So its been shuttling with the weather. Long beautiful and endless sunny days. These are days which you can only imagine in London. London has that english Enid Blytonish eagerness to bring to attention child like mouth opening amazement.
I hate winters. They aid my natural lathery towards existence of any sorts. I am the worst kind of sloth that ever existed. I revel in summer. Summer makes me move. If it wasnt for summers I would have been a relic with spiderwebs my armoury.
So in its long confusion, weather gamely let London have a taste of some very chilly time. It seemed like it was a way of the weather to tell us to cherish every bit of sunshine... Ok but lets not get into my thinking of what was happening cause the basic reasons for the weather changes were environmental.
Every sunny day and every bright sunny day I looked at and smiled from inside my room but continued working on my laptop or a desktop with an unease. I didnt feel like being stuck with anything artificial. Techno crap was all I felt I was indulging in. Day in and day out.
Straight 20hours with the web.
And each time I shut the PC down I shut myself down with a guilt of needing to sleep when I could have used them to figure about this quagmire of absolute marsh of unlimited and untapped unimagined possibilities. These mysteries of the cyber just wanted me to keep at it.
Needless to say I managed nothing. I didnt come up with nothing which would mark me down in the History of net and web and digital revolution. If anything I am even more intimidated then when I had started.
So many have told me now that I want to run even before I learn how to walk.
-----------------------
I havent been punched. Honestly, I dont even know if anyone has ever managed to punch me. Very early on in my life my Father told me never come back home having beaten up. never start a fight but never return having been hit by anyone.
Those words have been with me all through. Actually I havent forgotten a lot of what my Father has spoken to me about. So every fight, whether it was a guy bigger than me or my size. I have punched and finished fast.
Rest assured I am a coward. The worst one you can ever encounter. Most of my fights and skirmishes were brutal foolishness.
So when today three punches right at my chin one after the other actually made me realise that this was the first time I had ever been punched and then something went off in my head...
I can still taste the disgust of being weak in my mouth. And it is more nauseating than usual.
Its devastating be a weakling when your father is one of the bravest and strongest of the most honourable men.
-----------------
The olive green... OG
The colours I have wanted to wear ever since I saw them and understood them for what they are.
I have lived amongst this colour most of my life.
Army has been the be all and the end all of most of my life.
The one man I have always aspired to be like and always at every point in my life fallen short of in every aspect has worn the uniform of an Indian Army officer in the best way possible. He has inspired me for all that I dream about today. And it was him that I wanted to make proud in everything I did. Needless to say I have never come through.

Shreemukh joins the academy this year. This guy has only wanted to be an Army officer. I have known him like not many could. And I know what being an Officer means to him. He is one of those who commands respect because of what he is... this time next year my Brother will be crossing one of the most important lines towards his dream and taking the Antim Pag to a huge beginning.
He and I and Bej, the third musketeer had seen dreams of being with each other. Of being officers. Of Saluting each other...
I could not keep my word. And I cant apologise enough. But I just never had it in me...

Lt. Sandeep V Hegde of the 8 Assam. He has gotten what he almost thought he might not get. He wears the OG with the honour and the pride of a human who has proved to himself that he was meant to be in those colours and that he adds pride to the establishment being a part of it.
He is one of those who commands respects with what he does on ground.
It is a stark dissimilarity when you know so many who are worthy and dedicated, and those words just are associated with you when you use them to describe others...

So many think I am a fool and a kid for wanting to be in the army instead of being in London. I wonder What am I?
------------------------------

The Sunday, I watched five movies back to back. Didnt eat. Just watched movies and spent a lot of time deciphering a weird language but endlessly enticing and enchanting... its known as HTML to geeks of the world...
------------------------------
I need to report that our ham (by our I mean T and mine) was stolen and not just ham but juice (extremely traumatising to T) and cheese spread (which T is upset about obviously ) and in all this abject loss I like always remained utterly amused... T is right I am diseased in the head...
-----------------------------
I also wonder if people actually get drunk?
I mean I feel most times they just get too dehydrated and start blabbering as the alcohol reacts with h2o and then probably they are unable to walk on a straight line.
I know one thing though... People talk a whole lot and lot more sense when they are drunk. Probably because it lets them have the cover of being not in control...
---------------------------
Singing in the rain is what I am watching while typing in dark... Prude and T are laughing. Its honest uninhibited and inconsistent and honest noise of glee...
-----------------------------
I ran after my first sparring session ever. I was so terrified that I was closing my eyes each time I saw a punch coming at me...

I hated running... Now I yearn for it. As I was running with sunshine bouncing of my yellow sweatshirt and more of it dashing off my face I remembered what I used to do when my Father would wake me up and send me for a run...
-----------------------------
I can cook in theory... T will elucidate if your are nice to her...

2007-03-05T18:43:00.000-08:00

INTRO

This is all that I could in least amount of words tell you about myself...

Ten Top Trivia Tips about PRicky!

PRicky, from the movie of the same name, had green blood.
Carnivorous animals will not eat another animal that has been hit by pRicky.
The first American zoo was built in 1794, and contained only pRicky.
In 1982 Time Magazine named pRicky its 'Man of the Year'.
PRicky has three eyelids!
During severe windstorms, pRicky may sway several feet to either side.
A bride should wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and pRicky.
If you lick pRicky ten times, you will consume one calorie.
There are roughly 10,000 man-made objects the size of pRicky orbiting the Earth.
PRicky will often rub up against people to lay his scent and mark his territory.

2007-02-23T06:21:00.000-08:00

AND ACTION!!!

So well the international pot pourri of sort...
Team Bravo...
And they say Hi...
Why they are doing Journalism will never be clear to me...
Made for the celluloid

2007-02-02T19:12:00.000-08:00

Slam bang thank U... Ah ummm!!!

YUNJOY!!!

2007-01-30T11:05:00.000-08:00

The Fuzz Around your Face!!!

"So What happened to you?" inquired the weird little woman
I literally looked around cause I had no reason to believe that a question like that could be addressed to me by someone who knew me as less as I knew her. (And that explains what??? God! How do people understand what I say ever?)
But anyways, gifted as I am with the highly tuned powers of deep perception and penetration, (couldnt resist... Apologies!!!) figured that it was me who was being addressed with that very irrelevant query and so I responded with the most appropriate *you know me not, who the hell are you and what do you mean* frown and the very intelligent and extremely academic and time tested and weathered
"huh?"
And then came the question which I figured would explain everything but instead it lead me to actually look all around the room to figure who in the hells name was the WLW (weird Little woman) talking to. And the question went as follows:
"Are you a Muslim?"
I gagged (no religious reasons merely cause I realised she was in reality talking to me). And then I got my breath back and whatever little composure I could and said "Ummm... erm No"
And then it dawned
"So why are do you have a beard?"
And I actually went into the whole bio lesson of how boys contain in some quantity some kind of a weird fluid which is called testosterone which enables them to sprout fuzz all over their face and pay homage and tribute to our very wise and trouser less ancestors- The Apes.
So I said but I gagged and squirmed "umm because it happens to boys when..."
I am quite glad I didnt finish that sentence cause I am not sure I could have without lot of sarcasm and a fact about me is I am not sarcastic at all. I am the least sarcastic being on this earth. I would go as far as to say that if tomorrow humanity ceased to exist and I was the last human to have survived then sarcasm would have been extinct already... Though I know there could be debated as to how much of a human I am to be the last of the race but we will leave that for another day.
"So you girlfriend left you?" the pragmatic WLW
Which I heard as "Your girlfriend dumped you???"
And I was stumped... I mean how would she know ???
And I said in almost a whisper"erm I dont have a girlfriend..."
"So then why havent you shaved?"
And I just couldn't figure out the answer to that one cause when I did physics I knew of no equation which would translate to the fact that having a beard is directly proportional to having been dumped
or
being clean shaven equals to having a girl friend...
Did anyone else cover this in their syllabi???
I would like a quick appraisal to those two equations. So I can handle the questions better next time... What say tutor me???
=================

And so I stretched the my bladder to the optimum limits as I heard him relay his encyclopedia. Even his words are hyperlinked...
And so I continued to test the limits of my bladder for over two hours and walked to bliss in a very awkward fashion...
A relief ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

2007-01-23T18:16:00.000-08:00

Slash!!! Music Playing... NO PAIN NO GAIN!!!

Beep! Beep!

The phone...

It doesnt seek attention too often now...

It doesnt often ring.

Thats all it did once...

Evrytime I see it I feel it I realise its presence on me every connection it has ever forged for me comes alive... and it was always a pleasure... I guess it still is more or less...

The first message I received

Connected yet???

None anymore... Gods dont care and Goddesses dont need to. I am damned!!!

But then who isnt???

The Beep continues...

"Hello???"

"Hello Sir..."

The same voice, I heard years ago...

Three to be precise...

" All TR's cleared..."

Silence...

I let out air...

I was speechless... Every word we had ever said every bit we had ever sweat every drop we ever bled every push up we ever pushed every mile we ever ran every dream we ever discussed...

" You Are In..."

I realised my mouth was too dry... He was in...
All disappoinments All tears
Every Insult Every condesendence
Rifles Slammed Feet stamped
Songs lived and Moments etched as lore

Respect
Honour
Courage
OLQ's

HIS SYNONYMS

HE WAS IN...

" Nah, the merit list isn't out yet..."

" Doesn't Matter... You are in... Thank God..."

I said it but didnt believe it... It was all him...

He wanted to be there... He could be anything but he was in...

I had nothing to say...

Salute

YOU HAVE IT IN YOU>>> (I never did never will...)

ALWAYS DID>>>

ALWAYS WILL>>>
+++++++++++++++++++++

VOIDS HAVE MORE MATTER AND SUBSTANCE THAN ALL OF MY EXISTENCE CAN

VOIDS HAVE MORE UTILITY...

-Ponderer

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Everything was just right...

I collected the ball and spun in air dodged the defence in air and shot... And missed!!!

then missed again

And then again

and then Again

and then some more

My shoes are lousy... that hardly ever mattered...

They are bigger than me... HAHA yeah like that can even be an excuse

They have been coached....

Missed again

and again and some more....

Basics Basics... Shoot and miss... Damn it!!!

Since when have I started giving myself excuses???

It never mattered before...

Am I over???

I could communicate once and now I can hardly limp my way in the boundaries...

No Orchestra this... pandemonium has been let lose...

Am I over???

Shot and Yes you guessed it missed...

I must be...

Like hell!!!

UP YOURS... I am over when I decide and till I decide...

IT AIN'T OVER TILL IT'S OVER...

I FALL AND I GET UP...

My forte to get up after a fall and be arrogant and ignore that I am finished...

Pass collected

Dribble

Dodge

Spin another in air

Shoot

And score...

I am back and push me cause I come back harder...

Pain my stimulant!!!

2007-01-17T16:55:00.000-08:00

BURP!!!

New year... the big deal??? it is double 007...

Why wonder why there should be a big deal??? I mean why not just accept that we have been through another 365 days of strife and conflicts, failures and relative successes, personal and otherwise, and we should just shout in glee?

So well Welcomed the new year at the London bridge... alone amongst strangers... Got separated from my crowd of friends... I walk too good damn fast and don't see where I am going... and hence get lost but this time around i was looking at the sky... I was hoping to see an epiphany to strike... only saw wisps of smoke and crackers going off... T and phaaji and then the others were whom I wished the new year wishes to...

Shrieking all around people jumping around greeting the first few moments of 2007...

Our group subdued or retrospective I wonder which it was more... I was still waiting for an epiphany... and also was trying to get pics and getting them all out of focus... and to think I was trying to project complete lack of excitement...

I had greeted new year with respect... Didnt eat anything in the waning hours of 2006 and didnt eat anything till 4 am in 2007... Also London winter is quite a hilarious joke... hugged the new year in black...

Dont believe me? Ask anyone who was belting chocolate and bread in the tube... I resisted all temptations... rishi munni's would be quite impressed...

Went to pee in HILTON with phaaji and drummer... quite a loo that... Walked in as if we owned the place... worked I guess since no one chucked us out... Walking out Phaaji and I promised to meet in ten years in the loo of the Hilton again... though I guess he would be able to afford the room then...

+++++++++++++

Brit men pee in street corners too...

and not just a corner just about anywhere place where they assume no one can see them...

++++++++++++++

You know you are an Indian in UK when:

1. you miss auto rickshaws as an alternate to public transports... even bloody buses follow a time table here. You miss it and you dont have an alternate but wait for the next one... the taxis charge a ransom and need to be booked... GOD! what organised chaos... you dont have a plan B unlike in India where there always is a way...

2. You realise that the bread you purchased there and didnt care how much anyone belted it, here you actually wonder how you can economise on bread... OMG!!! its bloody bread... developed country which you decide???

3. When instead of eating only warm delicacies you eat ice cream in the centrally heated dorms...

4. When smoke alarms and fire drills seem quite a novel idea.

5. When you cook on electric metal things called hobs and think they are weird instead of a gas choolah...

6. When the bathroom allows you to shave, poo and bathe at the same time because of its miniscule size instead of the different rooms u have at the PG you lived for three years...

7. When you go buy milk at a superstore and find it quite tormenting... the friendly neighbourhood doodh waala missed....

8. When you find a haircut becomes an annual ceremony owing to its cost... £8= Rs 720 only

9. When you start missing mosquitoes and flies because you have always found them prevalent rain, winter or shine...

10. When you think a million times of whether to buy Parle-G and Maggi and eventually not buy it...

++++++++++++++
Nice look!!! the beard.... quite rugged that...

Comments on unkempt appearance by French, American and African women (very kind women)

People just love to kid me...

FOCL each time!!!

+++++++++++++++

A Britisher knocked me off my rockers when he spoke about sita aur gita and burning train with vivid details... they are quite long and very sensual and colourful...

A German called the music of the movies he caught quiet cheesy... had to agree with him when he sang it too... though couldnt quite recall what he was singing in the heavy accent...

++++++++++++++++

I always get caught between two warring women!!!

And I cant handle women either stressing or crying and when they fight I feel I might get belted and hence dont quite know how to react... miss T and SAM the two in mention here!!!

Are there male right activists???

--------------------------------

2006-12-25T18:17:00.000-08:00

SAATH HINDUSTANI !!! Christmas Sur Taal...

1200hrs, 25th December 2006
Phone beeps... Jat calling... I wonder why...
Paaji is the one who actually talks...
"pRicky come down to the reception we gonna jam the night away..." in a false accent the christmas spirit had hit him the hardest I think...
I was reading and this was the first time I was actually reading since I had gotten here. I hate the idea of doing something else when I read. I usually would make an excuse... this time I heard myself say "sure see you in five..."
As soon as I reach the reception, the six other Indians walk out with one guitar and part of a drum kit...
Christams is not white... not even a single flake of snow... It isn't even too cold.
I was still not sure of what we were going to do. BUt was walking along with them actually infront of them and considering I had no clue where we were heading I felt right idiotic...
We were walking through the feild near our Halls.
The air was crisp... I could feel it...
There was silence also. This country shuts doan on Christmas... So no tubes could be heard groaning...
I love this city... I was in love with a mythical idea I had about this city and I still am in love with its harsh warmth and blatant crispness. I love the cold stillness and the silence which surrounds me.
I look around while Vocals starts with Lucky Ali songs... The Seven of us at 1230hrs were singing or making attempts at it.
Thought about the cold winter jam sessions in Delhi with Issac and Shree...
Subramanian and I have had several such sessions on phone for hours on and also while walking out towards her appa's car...
Flezre...
O' Sanam...
and then another Lucky Ali...
Except the birds we were disturbing with our celebrations there was no other sound or human except us, the seven...
Hands were freezing... shivers all around... I wasnt feeling cold... I dont very often... But the Chritmas cheer was apparent in all but one...
"Who wants tea????"
" Tea... Ya tea... lets have Tea"
I break away with best wishes...
And walk back with silence around me... I love that silence... With an incomplete song in my head and on my lips... forgotten and lost beneath other melodies...
Silence and doubt my companions...
I welcome their company...
A merry Christmas in London... Desi Signs off... Still tapping at his keypad 0249hrs
Namaste!!!
HO HO HO

2006-12-21T18:30:00.000-08:00

What the Fog!!! ( quoting the boys on Hampi trip as reported by Tangled)

Dham! Dham! Dhum! (I am not quite sure how to literally convert the sound made my banging of a door...)

Usually it is Prude who bangs on the flat door to be let in, so she can grace the inhabitants of 88-O with her presence. But It wasn't Prude... Lo Behold! it was Sam and she seemed in a very controlled hysteria.

Background---After travelling for nearly two weeks during term time (Adventurous is how we like to describe Sam...) Sam fell sick as soon as she came to London and was in a bad shape and hence couldnt finish her master piece assignment story and now she was a day from her Extension deadline... without a story and with all her ideas shot down due to Scrooge like humbugs of this Romantic and extremely foggy city (Delhi fog is still giving London fog a run for its money though...)

Sam: I don't have a story

pRicky: hmm! You do... (I am the most irritating thing when someone is stressed and a no good know it all... I also thought that Sam would scratch my eyes out... Sam didnt bother)

Sam: No, I don't

pRicky: Yes, you do...

T: What happened? (Now that should really have been the question which pRicky should have been going after... but no the obvious doesnt interest him... no too much it is to be comforting to pRicky)

Sam: I had four ideas in the morning and now all of them are down the freezing drains...

pRicky: You have a story... (God! I should really take classes... I am infuriating)

Sam: Huh? (I am sure she was thinking... God he really doesnt understand English...)

pRicky: Well it is foggy and hence that is your story... Let's see the BBC...

Sam: Ah! ok...

BBC is very very helpful... turns out it did a story about domestic and international flights being delayed and cancelled due to fog.

Sam: Hmm thats a good story...

pRicky: You have a story... (Will you stop already???)

T: You could go to the airport?

Sam: Yeah, I will go to the airport... (Now that is real journalism... one moment she has no story and next she is off...) How much time does it take to get to the airport?

pRicky: ten minutes to the town center and fifty to Heathrow... Could take more owing to the fog... (he would know... the number of trips he has made to say bye bye to people... I mean I would know)

Sam: Ok so I will go now...

She was damn excited, I think...

I really cant keep my mouth shut and interfere with everyone's business. And the proof to that is as follows:

pRicky: Do you want me to come with you? (Why wouldnt you let the lady do her thing? why?)

Sam: You dont have to... (Hesitant... God why would he want to come??? I am sure thats what Sam thought)

pRicky: Do you want me to come?

Need I answer what happened next? Both of us got into a very crowded bus to Heathrow Airport (Yes, there are real overflowing crowded buses in London also... I hate buses... they never have any space in them at all. I never fit in them)

Sam: Upstairs? (Yeah these are the famous double Decker buses...)

pRicky: Sure!!! ( Damn! these steps are real narrow... I hate buses!!!)

I try and fit myself into the gap between the two seats... Fail miserably... I hate buses... I sprawled outside the seat in a way that one of my legs could still have some circulation but ah... damn we werent talking about my improvisation of seating in public transport where I dont fit...

So, let me continue, I am real bad company in buses, it gets warm and then I feel lethargic and hence I feel sleepy... so soon I was in a lethargic state of semi sleep... And Sam was doing something but my brain was on off mode...

Bus Stops... It was quite empty now... only me and another guy infront... The bus started again and three Brit guys climbed to the top... They had been drinking enough to seem drunk and enough to know what they were doing...

Nasheri 1 to Sam: Hey love! how you doing? you doing alright?

Sam: ya quite...

NAsheri 1: You are arent you?

pRicky: silence (there is going to be trouble...)

Sam: silence

Nasheri 1, Nasheri 2 and their friend the mobile guy made lot of rukus for a bit.

Nasheri 1 comes and sits behind our seats: hey Love! YOu doing ok huh? (He wasn't very bright... He had asked that several times before)

Sam: Yes, I am ok and You?

pRicky: ( Why ? why would she ask him why?)

Nasheri 1: any chance of a kiss, Love?

pRicky: ( Should I say something??? I should ??? Oh man! trouble!!! Not very brave our dear pRicky...)

Sam: How old are you?

God! these Americans are crazy??? She is this far from being harassed and she wants to know his age... I didnt see the connection and I was still contemplating how should I be reacting... I think too much that is my problem... or was I too much of a coward???

Nasheri 1: You need a real man. I am sure he cant keep up ( alluding to pRicky)

pRicky Keep your tongue in, man. Keep your tongue in...

Sam: I dont do younger men... so why dont you do your friend ( She was alluding to Nasheri 2) and be happy...

pRicky ( oh my god! why ? Why?)

Nasheri 1: You know what, love? I'll do you and my bitch ( his bitch-- Nasheri 2) will do your Bitch ( pricky- Sam's bitch).

Pricky: Hey, you fucker! Shut up and you are the only bitch around here... ( I just cant keep my mouth shut...)

Nasheri 2 now jumped into action and came and stood over where I was sitting: Hey none of that language from you... Dont use fucking bad language with us... ( yeah and you should be advising me because I thought... also I was thinking should I stand up or shouldnt I)

pRicky: Yeah well, Fuck you!

Nasheri 2: You wanna mess with me? you bloody chink cunt!!! ( HEy thought I was chinese???)

pRicky: ( To stand or not to stand)

Nasheri 2: You better shut the fuck up or I'll show you...

Well that did it... stand up it was....

Sam: No, Pricky... Don't

and held on to me hand ( Very filmi... And the coward that I am I sat back...)

Sam: why don't you guys just leave?

Nasheri 2: Why dont you come out?

He was asking me...

I ignored...

The bus was coming to a halt again and I knew for a fact that something would happen...

Nasheri 2 spat and before he spat I was out of my very very narrow seat...

Don't think I did anything heroic... those guys jumped off the bus and I wouldnt know what I really would have done... other than being a coward...

Well, either way, Sam wasn't too upset... She has had several experiences like these and we had a job at our hand... and also yet again it was proved who was the guy when pRicky was around a girl... The girl is the man...

So finally we get to the airport...

When we reached inside we found the whole airport crowded with haggard passengers...

It was brilliant...

We started with taking shots off the tripod...

We found a Press Officer Who we thought was a lucky pick and Sam would have a brilliant interview...

Sam: Can we interview you on Camera?

Press Officer: No...

Sam: we are just students...

PO: Do u have a £5 million insurance? its a public Liability thing...

pRicky: What??? how much did you say??? ( I blurted!!!)

Sam: Our School has insurance but I juts dont know how muc... ( This was after she had gathered her jaw off th ground)

PO: YOu cant shoot.

pRicky: Were those ITN reporters you were talking to?

PO: yes...

pRicky: lets go talk to them...

Sam: Yeah Yeah...

We walked away real fast...

Sam: I am taking this story...

pRicky: yeah...

And then we did something both of us had not thought we would...

pRicky: Do you have David's number if we get arrested?

Sam: No ( she smiled)

pRicky: Great Lets start then...

And start we did... Took all the shots we needed of the tripod. Hiding from all the Airport officials and Policemen and CCtv's.

Sam was excited... I wasn't...

We finished with three brilliant interviews... all done on prosecutable grounds.

But We were both going with the motto ' when else in my life would I be doing this?'

A small £5million pound insurance cant take a brilliant story from being covered...

So we rush out from the airport after lying at the airport about why we were so interested in knowing exactly what was happening about the flights... ( I believe we told everyone that we were waiting for friends coming from somewhere both of us had no idea from where)

The last thing to do? The reporter's Piece to camera...

we come out of the airport to get out of being arrested and guess what greets us?

No fog at all... The whole story gone to the dogs after everything...

Well not quite, God loves Sam... We got to school and fog was back much thicker...

Sam got a brilliant story... And I got another memorable day...

Thanks Sam for letting me on the adventure...

I hope I wasnt too much in your way?

2006-12-18T11:31:00.000-08:00

Never could stop!!!

Music... a hum... a rhythm... a trance

dribble... dribble...

There was always music from the first time... only the hum...

dribble... dribble...

Sometimes it felt as if flying...

dribble... dribble...

already twisted ankle...

dribble... dribble...

fingers remind that they have been broken...

dribble... dribble...

The crescendo increases... there always was a hum... it always felt like a trance...

Speed... was always missing...

was never swift...

Agility... hardly...

Power ... never quite enough...

Talent... no associations absolutely...

But it was natural... always natural...

Never belonged to any team...

Never was the best...

Never was noticed...

Never the one for whose team people would fight to be in...

Never felt tired...

Injuries didnt matter...

broken glasses didnt matter

torn clothes didnt matter

There always was a hum...

a trance always...

everything closed around and nothing but the rhythm mattered...

More than anything...

The swish...

And another swish then...

I am back...

Who cares???

Doesnt matter... Does to me...

Thanks T,MT, Princess...

apologies Prude...

2006-12-18T06:17:00.000-08:00

Please forgive me cause I fall asleep when it is warm!!!

Angels from the realms of glory,Wing your flight o'er all the earth;Ye who sang creation's story,Now proclaim Messiah's birth:Come and worship,Come and worship,Worship Christ, the newborn King!

Shepherds, in the fields abiding,Watching o'er your flocks by night,God with man is now residing,Yonder shines the infant Light;Come and worship,Come and worship,Worship Christ, the newborn King!

Sages, leave your contemplations,Brighter visions beam afar;Seek the great desire of nations,Ye have seen His natal star;Come and worship,Come and worship,Worship Christ, the newborn King!

Saints before the altar bending,Watching long in hope and fear,Suddenly the Lord, descending,In His temple shall appear:Come and worship,Come and worship,Worship Christ, the newborn King!

Christmas in London a magical affair I always have lived with this belief. I love this city. It is boring and I wouldnt want to spend my life here but nothing can change the fact that it is magical. I love it the reasons I believe not many would flatter me and agree with me but I truly believe that is the one sole reason why I love it.

The first Christmas Carol service of my life. This carol saved me from a lifetime of humilation. I was so sleepy in that warm dark hall with the choir singing one carol after the other. I wasn't sleepy because it was a boring affair quite the opposite, I was delighted by it but I fidget a lot and hence can't quite get too sleepy in places which are very warm. So I was standing when I fell asleep and very nearly fell on the floor, when my excellent reflexes saved me from falling on my head...

I realised this had gone too far usually I only fell asleep in roll calls or assemblies or talks or in classes and them I have chewing gum to remedy it but in this case I was helpless.

So like I always love flattering myself with (I always ahave a plan B) I came up with an idea to keep myself awake and sang this carol with all my worth.

I quite like the words and no one was in agony over my singing. I guess christmas spirit saved me the boos (oh god I am self centered... no one cared whether I sang or not they were too involved in the proceedings and unlike me not sleepy).

The words which I felt made this one special are:

Glory

Creation

Shephards

Contemplations

Very very satisfying singing this one...

Poetry lessons anyone???

2006-12-16T01:46:00.000-08:00

Thoughts!!! Infinity per sec

Please Excuse me... Havent slept for more than three hours for more than a month now (I am just using this as an excuse to defend my ramble today... I dont feel sleepy actually at all...)
" pRicky??? You have to go to the airport with Princess..." said T(poor roommate of mine always gets disturbed on my account)
Wordless, I got up, got dressed, took a sip of water. Armed myself with my very empty wallet (Like in India only contacts... who have no clue about my existence, some notes written by someone... a song actually to be precise, a snap of heaven, Uni Id, an ATM card), oyster card(your key to public transport in London... thieves is what run the transport here though)and keys. In space of two minutes.
"Don't sleep and forget where you need to get out while coming back..." said T
pRicky is capable of anything but he hates buses so no way he could fall asleep.
Time 5:12am
pRicky knew he was late...(there goes the image... darn it!!)
Stepped out in the corridor. Princess sat in the corridor, looked exhausted... very endearing.
He took the nearly but not quite heavy suitcase...
" Its raining..." Princess observed.
Silence... pRicky is very annoying never really talks when he should but every other times shoves his feet liberally in his mouth.
Fight happened at the tube station, where in the cheapo that pRicky is gave in and let Princess out money on it.
Finally got to the bus stop...
Time 5:17am
" We just missed the bus..." announced pRicky(right ray of sunshine he is. God man Princess saw going past too)
Princess was stressing like always without reason.
" Lets take the tube?" She ventured
" No... No point" thus spake the great wise pRicky. (Prude says pRicky is bossy, I think that is all tosh)
Time 5:47 am
The bus stops at the bus stop. (the buses actually reach every bust stand at a fixed time... God! the brits dont know how wrong they are tampering with buses adhering to time... Things are way better back home... they are always there two hours after they are supposed to be ther... now that is how real buses work)
So they get into one bus and get off.
Time 5:53 am
H140 arrives at 6:09am
And the trip to the airport begins.
Princess asked several questions. pRicky answered all...(the bloody know it all that he is)
He enlightened Princess with his theories
1. Why English bought the world?
2. Their currency is a sin and a crime?
3. Reason why chapped lips go unnoticed by guys.
All of them were met with disdain. The genius of all of them were lost on Princess.
" I hope your theories do come true..." polite snigger by Princess
" I hope they wont..." Nonchalant pRicky( who are you trying to kid???)
The bus finally got to the airport (whats in the name... I couldnt spell it anyway)
Terminal three this way...
Dragging Princess's not quite heavy suitcase...
Reaching Terminal Three
Time
6:59 am
Princess is feeling real cold. The poor girl. She was so exhausted. What with an hours sleep, and having to put up with pRicky.
Princess gave pRicky a hug, thanked him quite unnecessarily.
pRicky stayed till Princess walked away. Hoping she enjoys her time. She has missed home... He can't help but respect her...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Walks fast, extremely fast outside. He wasn't in a hurry. He was restless had been since he had come here.
Waited for a bus to turn up at its exact time. Smirked in delight when it was a minute late...
What was he thinking???
He had no idea...
-------------------------------------------------------------------
pRicky hates buses. Always for as long as he has known he has hated them. He always puked his guts out. He could never eat when he had to travel in one. Whatever stopped him from eating would always be a sworn enemy.
------------
Crapper would be on his trip by now. He might be enjoying the conversation with the breeze with Maya...
------------
Flezre...
-----------
T wouldnt have slept...
------------
Flezre...
------------
I don't have an idea...
------------
Flezre...
------------
Sardars are very characterstic... the always walk the same...
------------
Flezre...
------------
Can I look inside these people's head???
-----------
Am i making correct observations about this guy who just walked in??? Sherlock Holmes was good... Ah! actually Arthur Cannon Doyle was...
-----------
Flezre...
----------
The first sight... the wait till walked late in the class most times than not late... looking to gain attention... getting it for a moment...

every second as clear as ever... every word... every thought...
saved forever...
-----------
Flezre...
-----------
Second life... linden... blog... not quite working...
-----------
Basketball... no more... care??? Lets think about something else...
----------
I was never good at it...
----------
Natural??? at anything????
Messing up, Being a klutz...
---------
Website designing... Journalism... hmmm...
---------
Flezre...
---------
SSB... Not told... it wasn't felt necessary
---------
Flezre...
---------
Pondi... the beach at night... going on one knee... watching kakka... Holding close something more than precious...
---------
Online essay... more excitment after alst night debate...
---------
Flezre...
---------
i-Pod... should I shouldn't I?
---------
Flezre...
---------
Missed Movies... damn it... Krrish... Goal... Pirates Of- Part 2... several others... Dhoom2... Casino Royale... Don...
---------
Flezre...
---------
Matrix ... the virtual is real... Don't know enough... why do I believe in it???
---------
Flezre...
---------
Jamie Fraser... I never was...
---------
Christmas in London... Well where else if not here...
---------
The seats in all buses worldwide are too small...
---------
Flezre...
---------
Oh! My stop...
---------
I shouldnt be left alone with my thoughts...
---------
Music... Should listen to it more...
--------
Flezre...
--------
papa read my blog...
--------
It Isn't too cold... I don't feel cold or i don't acknowledge it???
--------
It would be 16th tomorrow...
--------
No it is today...
Reason enough...
--------
havent been inside the sports hall for more than four days...
-------
Red belt... grade up??? big deal...
-------
Natural at nothing...
-------
Flezre...
-------
Why am I walking so fast????
-------
If I listen to the i-pod... I won't be able to listen to all that goes around me...
Hmm not good...
-------
Should i wake Prude for a walk???
Nah! Prude's been working too hard... can do without being bothered by me...
-------
Matrix... I would most definitely wont be the one... probably would be a pole...
-------
Flezre...
-------
Can I run to Harrow on the hill???
------
Flezre...
------
Haven't been reading.... Disgusting that one...
------
India is more exciting...
------
Flezre...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
pRicky got back to halls... T wasn't asleep... Just as he had thought...
" everything alright?" T wanted to know...
"Hmmm... yeah..." said the grump pRicky...
Should I have coffee??? I don't like it... But what the hell????
" pRicky Sleep ..." T
" NOt feeling sleepy..." pRicky
" Just lie down..." T
"hmmm..." pRicky (Rude is an understatment)
-----------
" My flight has been advanced... I am going now..." Snow white hyperventilated...
the fifth time she had spoken directly with pRicky since over one and a half month...
Snow white looked stressed too but happy excited stressed... But Snow white had done everything right through the whole course... so Snow white would be looking forward to the break...
" What???" pRicky blundered (not quite bright our Mister pRick...)
He abandoned his coffee... got into some clothes... armed with the very long ago mentioned Wallet...
Rushed out...
less than a moment...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Flezre... ndiya gu thanda
Full stop right here

2006-12-11T02:50:00.000-08:00

Somethings In Life Are Free. Cribbing Is One Of Them!!!

No Milk, Don't drink tea, It is raining

And I wish....

Ek ghram chai ki pyali ho
Koi usko pelana wali ho
Chahay gori ho yah kali ho
Se ne se lagane wali ho
Mil ja hai to mit ja hai to har gaammmmmm
Paramum pum pum,paramum pum,chike pap pap,
Chike pap pap,pamrum pum pum
Suba suba mai likloon ghaar se choom ke uske aakien,
har lamha bus yaad karoo uske chahat ke baathe
Aye! Suba suba mai likloon ghaar se choom ke uske aakien,
har lamha bus yaad karoo uske chahat ke baathe
Uske liye oh jina marna aur bhala,kya mujko karna
Meri liye khush hali ho,uske bina sub hali ho
Chahay gori ho yah kali ho
Se ne se lagane wali ho
Mil ja hai to mit ja hai to har gaammmmmm
Paramum pum pum,paramum pum,chike pap pap,
Chike pap pap,pamrum pum pum
Raath ko mai wapas aahon woh darwasa khole,
lekie muje ko bahon mai love you daring bole
Raath ko jab mai wapas aahon woh darwasa khole,
lekie muje ko bahon mai love you daring bole
Sajke mere samne aake,sari jaanki gagan mai jaye
Uske ada nerali ho,woh meri ghaar wali ho
Chahay gori ho yah kali ho
Se ne se lagane wali ho
Mil ja hai to mit ja hai to har gaammmmmm
Paramum pum pum,paramum pum,chike pap pap,
Chike pap pap,pamrum pum pum
Ek ghram chai ki pyali ho
Koi usko pelana wali ho
Chahay gori ho yah kali ho
Se ne se lagane wali ho
Mil ja hai to mit ja hai to har gaammmmmm
Paramum pum pum,paramum pum,chike pa pap pa pap,
Chike pap pap,pamrum pum pum

2006-12-10T08:53:00.000-08:00

I HAPPENED!!!

Phone beeps
it is picked with devil may care (read with over enthusiasm... no one calls its too freaking expensive) attitude.
Voice on the other end ... " pRicky..."
Voice at the phone receiver's end (rugged, suave, sexy... {read-- not quite by a mile} ) "I am listening"(not nearly those words) "Yes, this him."(but close enough don't you think?)
Voice on the other end... "1830hrs... Dress sharp" (not quite... he actually said why the $%$%" does your phone keep getting disconnected. Be there at Six thirty... Dress smart in black shoe and pants)
pRicky responds with nonchalance(with enthusiasm. I am sure you guessed) "I'll be there..."

And so started a very long evening... and things went down hill after that(literally but not quite off the hill)

Desi pRicky walks into 'Nikki's Punjabi Delite' (a pseudo up market high society restaurant) at 1830hrs (because he flatters himself on being punctual)
Shaved, brand new black trousers, button up shirt, woodland jacket and brown formal shoes. pRicky walks up to the bar in splendour nodding a bit with the soft bollywood music playing in the background. The waitress looks up asks with a smile... "what will you have sir?" He says I'll have the tshirt you are wearing. The look on her face was worth the line.
pRicky continues" well actually I am the new waiter and I would need a tshirt to start working. Don't you think? I'll be working with you guys today" ( sometimes i crack myself up... working with you god! what was I doing taking over as the bloody CEO???)
ASIDE----Yes I went to work cause I am in foreign land and not just any foreign land but capital of the freaking English land where I study (supposedly) in the university which accepted me due to a bureaucratic screw up I am sure, the currency of this land is not just a sin but a crime (think in context of 90times ours... its actually a holocaust!) and to make ends meet I need to work part time (not quite but makes me sound cool!!!) actually I just need the money for weekend booze(makes me sound even more cool!!!) Well the reasons are not important I just need the money ok!!!--- private thoughts with self over.
Must give it to the waitress, she kept her composure and handed me the t shirt (need I say obviously not hers?)
So I get out of my apparel and got into the tshirt which now transformed me into 'Nikkie's' (purple but they call it blue for some reason... none of them seemed colour blind ).
So the owner who i discovered was after who the fantastic very recommendable place to eat was named after (hey I work there I am supposed to get them more business) gave me his wise words... " ask all that you want to know... No mistakes I don't tolerate that. The senior staff will show you around the strings."(I really started looking around for them!!!)
The senior staff of two M and N... M the waiter and N the waitress(the same one). They showed me where the plates were and the sauces and the menus (I almost gave them the order... take away of course) and when they told me about the drinks menu I told them I didnt drink...(like you they didnt smile). But they didnt show me around the Strings or the strings which the boss had asked them to show me. I didnt tell the boss cause M and N might have lost their jobs for disobeying...
The son enters full suited booted (punjabi born in Kenya and hates being called one). Shakes hands and asks the senior staff to show me the ropes(this cracked me up because there werent any ropes at all or strings for that matter for me to be shown. I think it is a family fetish).
He asked M to get me an apron. M hands it to me. I think they took their revenge on me there. the size of that apron was that of a micro mini. I am a complete man I know what it is to wear a micro mini and smile and greet everyone with a smile. The smile was actually giving a message you laugh at me and I am going to punch you right across the face man or woman(hey i am a man wearing an apron which is the size of a micromini over my brand new black pants... I can punch either way sex of the recipient no bar)
So well the restaurant was actually booked full and people soon filled all the tables. Lay the starters plate for L23 four people and eight main course plates for R34. and some drink at R5(I served drinks which I dont know from one to another). When People ordered drinks through me, My face would have told them I dont know &%&$@ about what they ordered (I dont even know if I got them the correct drinks. Does it matter??? Don't they all taste the same???)
I almost dropped chutney on one guy with too much gel in his hair while I was laying the starters table. I wonder how he would have reacted?
I knew this was the table disaster would strike(disaster is not a guy, its just something which happens when Human version of Archie{read--yours truly} serve at tables of eight). So pRicky(its a vision from a camera thats why shift from I to pRicky) is clearing the main course plates. Piling one after other, this guest was extremely helpful and kept piling too and in the process thhe whole pile of plates smashes(its when a huge pile of dirty plates and bowls smash on the floor your entire life flashes infront of you not before you die. It really is your moment in the limelight when the whole restaurant is looking at you and you are looking at the mess at your feet with food all over your brown formal shoes and wondering how you actually managed to save your precious new trousers and thinking how convincingly and confidently can you blame the costumer of the damage{yes all in a second, I assure}) and then all hell broke lose. The suited booted son who hates being reminded of his roots, the senior staff M and N, the kitchen staff, even the son's wife from two floors up came rushing to the table (If i wasnt busy cleaning my shoes I would have definitely felt as Neo must when Mr. Smiths come running to finish him off). N reached first and said her flurry of apologies (she told me later she didnt mean any of them) and then asked me if I was alright (I don't think she meant that also but she asked again and again through the evening so well your guess is as good as mine). M kept asking me not to take tension and I really wasnt taking any. All of them were though. I go to the Kitchen and the Son was nearly jumping out of his trousers with indignation. He started saying what the %&£@ were you doing out there but then he turned around to me and stopped (He saw the apparent difference between us. He was half my size. He didnt say a word. So I am little bigI guess).
I was damaged goods then. I was allowed to carry nothing but clean the tables but not for long. They were understaffed and couldnt do without me being out of action. So I was back to serving drinks the names of which I didnt know.
During all of this M asked me what happened inside the kitchen. What did the boss's son say?
I said nothing and he was almost broken hearted at that. I am king of disappointments.
And so the evening was coming to a close with people going back to their home with satisfaction at being served by a complete Klutz. I started thinking of getting the money I had earned(haha!!!). When the cook asked me what will I eat and I told the guy that I was working here not a guest(He didnt know how to react to that but he wasnt amused I can tell you that). He asked again and I said of course I'll eat food with naan(perfectly normal for a first time waiter at a restaurant where he broke lots of crockery to be ordering food. I mean it really is normal).
So I belted the food, drank a coke (courtesy N) in my original apparel with M who I discovered was from Agra (two UP ke bhaiya jaab milte hain to ek dusre se zyada khane ki koshish karte hain. You all know who won.)
After carrying out all my duties I wait and the dear son's wife and says "You keep this". In my hands I see £20 not £25.
We are in camera mode again
pRicky looks at his hands and looks at the son and says it was agreed that I would get £25. The son starts with " well..." and continues " after tonight..." wisely trailed off, actually he didnt trail off. pRicky interrupted and said What about tonight??? I dint break those plates(of course, he didnt!!!) and it was an accident (most definitely!!!).
Censor cut with respect to younger audience.
The wife jumps in and says of course it was an accident and here is the £5.
pRicky takes what is rightfully his (broken crockery be damned!!!)
The wife says the boss will call you if the need you(Ya right! you dont like the business either huh? I didnt say it though. But I wanted to say if not for your sake for the sake of the crockery dont call me.)
pRicky in his element again, smiles and waves good night and walks back to his place in the dead of the night... unscarred, unblemished and totally bored.

BBC asked how my day was.
Oh nothing eventful!!! (I did say I was in my element didnt I???)

Heart felt thanks to Prude, who told me about the job.
The son who hated his origin being mentioned and use the F word quite liberally for being half my size.
To M and N without whom the evening would have quite painful.
And to dear almighty God...
Vodka you were the saving grace.

2006-11-10T05:59:00.000-08:00

FIRE DRILL!!!
It was half past nine when the most irritating sound went off...
It was the bloody fire alarm...
I got into my trousers and a jacket, paused the music I was listening to and strolled down to knock at doors of Princess and Snow White, they had hurried out at the first sound i guess because they weren’t in their rooms when I knocked...
I stepped out on the landing and I saw people walking half asleep, cursing, some stoic, others like me smiling and fully dressed...
Poor souls, some of them had just got out of the bed and were cursing as it was chilly outside and they were in various states of undress...
I was in a Fire drill... had read about it but I was a part of it and I didnt even think of taking my camera, it would have been a brilliant story to cover but I guess that’s the difference between a genius news reporter and me...
But the experience was something new... and humorous.
Desi signs off
Namaste!!!

2006-10-27T03:49:00.000-07:00

Why Do I attend this Lecture?

Every Friday I attend a class for two hours from 1100hrs. It is titled majestically as the 'Theory and Practice of Journalism'
Now here is the catch I am doing an MA journalism(International) my classmates are from all over the world but we attend this class with another set of students who are British and are doing their Postgraduate Diploma in Journalism, and this is the only time I actually see these very exotic species, the natives of this foreign land where I have come to pursue higher education, now I wouldn't be working in this land where you meet more foreigners than natives so why is it that I need to attend and learn the Theory and Practice of the way their media works???
An easy answer would be because you have paid through your nose and if these people teach you how to milk a cow as part of you course you bloody well do it.
Another answer is that Theory and Practice is the same where ever you go and so you learn it here but since when has theory ever helped in practice???
Another answer would be this class is the one place where we get to meet our counter parts but hey that isn't possible because like I said I just get to see them not interact with them...
So the vicious circle comes around to where it started and my question still remains unanswered...

2006-10-26T03:47:00.000-07:00

The Woes Of The Runny curries!!!

Vodka cooks like a dream(this was something I had scorned before as I was cooking in imagination and I was better than Sanjeev Bloody Kapoor!!! so where would I give credit to Dear Vodka)

"You are going to die, man!!!", says BBC.
I am making another experiment which we (Desi,Dear T and Princess) call dinner.
Indian Masalas are a big point of discussion if you might call it. Forget the europeans, no one in the world has the nose, lungs or a stomach for Indian food in its resplendence(here i dramatise and exaggerate!!!)
To give a background, I have been at the University-which-accepted-me with T and Princess and here is the catch, Hold your breath!!! I am the official chef...
So I make my first dal and with great premonition I ask my Guinea Pig, T, taste. And I look on for that historic moment which would decide her future and also mine...
"Its nice..." Says T(awww!!! choo chweeet...)
"What?" , Says Desi...
"Really???" now i really was fishing for compliments you would think but no I was really marvelled by those two words...
She nods I guess cause she couldn't speak cause of thhe sludge in her mouth I guess...
So, that encouraged me and since then I made
Rajma- lovingly called the runny tough to chew stones...(Too much water, and rajma as it was supposedly cooked)
Egg Curry- Lovingly the almost chick...(burnt by ignorance)
Mushrooms- Lovingly the fungus which T doesnt eat(I was shocked how someone cant like mushrooms that was until i tasted what i cooked)
Paratha&Chappatis- Lovingly the jaw workout with lesson in world geography)
Mashed Patatos- Lovingly everything but the patatoes mashed!!!
Its been fascinating how T has survived till this day but what needs do be given a thought is how she would survive the whole year...
The kitchen with its hobs(thats what the bloody brits call the gas chulha and it doesnt have a flame), the kettle(which these people use to warm water for coffee and tea, I wonder why???), the microwave and the oven(now why in heaven's name do we need both of these??? I was answered soon enough...)
T was put off with the report which the Halls(Thats the place we live is called) managment gives cleanliness in kitchen each week (they give a star and there thanks , for some reason T wants it real bad...Hmmm!!!) and the first report was highly unsatisfactory and T wasnt upset cause of that but that the kitchen opposite to ours got a star... I know, I know... but she wants the star but the other nine peole don't so poor T would have to wait till christmas to get the star cause all the europeans wold go home... Untill then she hates wednesday...
SO well Its the first of the kitchen woes but hey don't despair I am now giving Cooking lessons to Princess (to be fair she makes some decent chicken but the BBQ sauce is a little too much but she doesnt mind) so imagine how big a disaster (I mean a feast obviously!!!) is in the pipeline.
But hey look at the bright side, we(by we i really mean I but why make it so plain?) haven't burnt or blown the kitchen!!!
So until then
Desi signs off...
Namaste!!!

2006-10-07T14:58:00.000-07:00

Check Out Miniscule Bits Of London!!!

Buckingham palace entrance. Queen Elizabeth can be seen resplendant

Westminster Abbey,
London Eye
Buckingham Palace

Big Ben

2006-10-07T14:17:00.000-07:00

pRicky In London
I love London. I have always had this mythical illusion about this particular geographical landmark.
I am told and i tend to agree that I like London because i share a certain arrogance that the British seem to radiate.
I did a pricky in London tour a couple of weekends ago. And London didn't dissappoint me. It is very very busy. The tube stations(the underground trains, which for a very strange reason is not always underground. The origins are as old as 1907 as I have been told). The system if I might say is very very organised and fast. Though the native( and more often than not a non british) would be heard saying the tube break downs between stations. But the recovery is pretty quick.
My dear desvassiyon/fellow country men. London doesn't work on Indian Standard time. 9 sharp means sharp 9, not fifteen minutes after.
The Big Ben would possibly be the culprit for this i suppose...
A pity though, where India has given way to globalisation and has lost all its architectual beauty to a modern not worth a second glance buildings, English know what makes London the biggest cosmopolitan... the ability of not losing touch with their past through the ancient architect.
The Buckingham Palace is nothing close to one of our own but with royalty still in place in this country it seems grand. The queen is not british though she is german...hmmm!
And my dear pedestrians... this is England so the motors wait until the pedestrian crosses. It is very difficult to come to terms with this. The car stops until you have passed... Even the double deck buses...
This country is crazy though
The dry English humour takes getting used to...
You witness generous rain, sunshine, frigid breeze and cool chilling misty mornings...
People say sorry and thanks for every little thing...
The police men are well equipped...
The buses are not overflowing...
Noone has time...
And i am having a ball of time!!!
Desi Signs off... Namaste

2006-10-03T06:55:00.000-07:00

Its been considerably long since I rambled thats cause the university that accepted me is engulfing me with an extremely hectic and intensive course and since it is counted among the best in the media league we are kept on our toes by including us in lectures which i call the 'info pukes'.
The professors are daunting and extremely overwhelming cause they are in every sense and merit academic doctors. But they don't save they burden lives and so we call them professors but with this i don't intend to say that they aren't good. By god1 they are brilliant if thats the least I could say.
My fellow classmates are international students from all over the world...
you can never really know the meaning of 'International' until you are actually in midst of these people from places you have heard of but know nothing about, a realization which slaps you in your face if you are an aspiring journalist. Yes thats right i am one of the 'luckless tribe'(Russell).
Now these people are evrything that I am not. They have worked for several years in media of their native countries and needlessly smart. and understand loads much better then i do.
The discussions, when they happen are extremely well rounded if not always in depth.
They most certainly go beyond the realms of the immediate. Everything is international.
The politics is international, the views, the questions, presentations ... the whole package.
The brilliance of the whole deal is that not only that there are no exams but also there is no one who is trying to deal with you as a student. Relieving?
I am not sure we have couple of essays to give in before the deadline and lo behold not Indian time deadline but 1500hrs means 1445hrs.
Now i am sure to everyone who reads this would wonder how daft am I for me to be complaining about such a setting? and my answer to all those who condscend me is : Cheers!!!
It isn't the quantity which matters here but the quality here...
But I know my humble but firm education in India gives me adaptability to handle what the English throw at me.
Come to think of it, its the pace of this course which is of a blinding nature.
Its actually one of your dreams coming to life where you keep running to catch a train but it always remains a couple of inches ahead of you.
Desi signs out for now!
Namaste!!!

2006-09-12T11:39:00.000-07:00

ITHACA:

As you set out for Ithaka hope the voyage is a long one, full of adventure, full of discovery. Laistrygonians and Cyclops, angry Poseidon -- don't be afraid of them: you'll never find things like that on your way as long as you keep your thoughts raised high, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body. Laistrygonians and Cyclops, unless you bring them along inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope the voyage is a long one. May there be many a summer morning when, with what pleasure, what joy, you come into harbors seen for the first time; may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony, sensual perfume of every kind -- as many sensual perfumes as you can, and may you visit many Egyptian cities to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind. Arriving there is what you are destined for. But do not hurry the journey at all. Better if it lasts for years, so you are old by the time you reach the island, wealthy with all you have gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey. Without her, you would not have set out. She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have [deceived] you. Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

-C.P Cavafy (1911)

This poem would mean a lot to a lot of people and that is the brilliance of this poetry.

But the essence can be in the little meaning I have managed to contirve with lot of help form a brilliant teacher and a dear friend, AMME.

" the journey is more important than the destination itself, a beginning is definitely better than an ending. Beginnings gives us the power to be curious once more... Destination or ending gives only retrospection..."

My journey to something new begins. I am not sure what the outcome would be but after being nudged gently by AMME I realised I am looking forward to this journey to the unknown outcome because it is going to result in some construction...

This would have to be the loud channel of my bitter sweet and sour esperiences in the Great Britain, my life in London and my time in the University-which-has-accepted-me.

Lets see what this route to Ithaca teaches me...

Desi signs off... Namaste!