Dhol Baaje

My arms are tired. And I am numb. Impervious to the cacophony of noises around me. Every moment is spent in jubilation. In the joy of others. The happiness of the wellwishers dancing around me, while I am at work. The contentment of the man of the hour, alight on his steed, trotting onwards to a life of parenthood, investments and nagging in laws.

The beats my troupe belt out are vivacious, thrilling and enticing. The entire neighborhood takes note of our rhythm. Children and gasbags gawk at us in amusement. The bride eagerly awaits to hear our music, as she impatiently sits and lets the women of her household bless her on her journey towards love, sensuality, pain and patience. How sad is the tale of the traditional Indian wife, I think from time to time.

But how sad is my fate, as I toil in the heat of the unforgiving Hindustan night, drumming rhythmically and consistently like a metronome on fast forward. The tissues of my biceps squeal in anger, pleading me to stop. But how can I? For I drum to fill my belly with Basmati and Dahi. I drum everyday, for the few twenty rupees I make to eat and maintain my tummy strapped tabla.

No one knows my name. No one knows my song. No one knows my home.

And everyday, I see a beautiful girl officially entering the arms of my employer. And I ask my deity, "Oh Bhagwan or Jesus or Allah or Buddha, when will I ride a horse to earn my bride?"

But alas. Another night has ended, and another fair maiden has unconsciously crushed my heart. Pain is permanent in my profession. A broken heart. A sprain arm. And a fresh drumstick mark.

'Clueless' Hubbies

After a long, eventful and interesting hiatus, I'm back. Yup. you dweebs can stop partying now.

You know, I like to read about rubbish. Rubbish about love, sex, sports, politics, teddy bears, Kim Jong Il, Kabbalah bracelets and Paris Hlton's ass. Today however, I came across this amazing piece of research that left me flabbergasted [so to speak].



To give a man's opnion on the things talked about, here's the lowdown.






Researchers discovered one in ten men were oblivious to their wife's date of birth

Oh My Gawd! 1 in 10???? That's SO not Raven.

So the researchers completely and conveniently 'forgot' about the 9 other men who DID remember, and choose to harp over the 1 scumbag who probably doesn't remember the name of the last broad he slept with. This, my dear female readers, is the exception. Talk about looking at the glass half empty.

How about the fact that a lotta women won't even disclose their age properly. As if revealing it is like telling the doctor you have a 3 ass cheeks. So that poor chap is there because its your goddamn fault!

8 and 12 per cent were unaware about their natural hair and eye color respectively

8 out of 100 men were unaware of their wives' natural hair color. Who is to blame? [Oh Mr. Downey Jr.!].

Nowadays, women are like chameleons. In natural form, a lot of them are ugly and they change color and cling to trees and move back and forth like leaves blowing in the wind... Okay maybe not like that, but you get my point. Some women dye their hair so often they themselves may forget. Imagine havng a man who actually knows that information! He could actually go around town telling everyone you had tar black hair and you is not the blonde poser you're trying to be. Be grateful, you wretched she-devils!

There are millions of blind and colorblind men on earth. I understand it would suck if you married one of those 12 percent who's unaware of your eye color, but be an understanding girl - he's probably never SEEN.


One in three were ignorant about what her favourite perfume was, 27 per cent confessed purchasing the wrong size in clothes or underwear, the study showed.


Let me talk about perfume. We guys love it when you girls smell beautiful. As long as you don't reek of skunk sweat, you're good to go. Be it the latest fragrance from Estee Lauder or Chanel which have those pretentious french adverts, or your Rexona or Faa or Medimix water, the bottom line for men is "DO NOT SMELL LIKE DIARRHOEA". Even if you rub a pork chop over yourself, I personally will eat you up :D. It may surprise the third person guilty of not knowing what perfume his girl uses. He'd probably go to the other two and say, "Dude! WTF?".

And 27 percent are guilty of the size conundrum. If I were to represent it on the 10 scale, 2 blokes and a penis were unable to get perfect fitting clothes. How sad.

Girls, let me make this clear to you, by using one of the English language's most irritating sentences. For a man, buying clothes and undies [for a woman], is rocket science. We do not have breasts and a bell shaped bottom. It is like deriving a Max Planck equation from our puny skulls. I find it commendable that 73 percent of men get it right!


What can I say.. Women :)

Cuss-tomers!

Perhaps for once, I'd like to talk about something serious.

I used to think that the business world is complicated, and way over my head. However, I'm slowly learning its functioning, in minute steps. Working in the software industry, as well as being contracted to a bank, has taught me a lot. And since I deal with call centers too, I cannot stress the absolute importance of good customer service.

In the field of customer service, I feel India is completely pathetic. You will easily find the most unsatisfied, pissed off and driven insane customers in India. Why? Let's see.

Recently, I was at my uncle's place, and his friend was trying to get my uncle's cellphone plan changed. So he called up Vodafone Customer Care, asked for the new plan. The Customer Service agent told him that the new plan would come into effect in the start of the next month. This guy quite cleverly grilled the Customer Care execs as to why it'd take so long to switch to another plan, as Vodafone's rivals, Reliance allow users to switch instantaneously. The customer service people, as always, blew this out their bums.
The lesson learnt here - Most Indian businesses do not make the effort of understanding their customer audience and their problems.

Here's a good example of how stupid employees can be. We once placed an order for cakes in our office to celebrate some birthdays. So we called up a pretty upscale bakery to place the orders. In my entire life, I have never heard of such shoddy worksmanship. The guy on the other line had no idea about taking orders properly, as we had to constantly repeat the orders, like he didn't know which cakes were available in his own shop. He couldn't even spell 'Sachin' [and that is unforgivable if you are an Indian], and we had to stand up to such an incompetent dweeb.
The lesson learnt here - A lotta Indian businesses do not make the effort of actually recruiting intelligent people for their operations. I'm not saying everyone should be a Schroedinger, but at least make sure you don't recruit people who don't even have the common sense of spelling!

We've heard many stories where customer care was rude andd just plain PMS induced. India could take the pie, reverse engineer the pie and bake another pie for herself and her Jijoo, in this area. A lot of the customer care execs are, quite frankly, dogs. They bark a lot louder than most customers, make the same customers run around in circles and lift their legs over them.. well.. you know what happens then. The likes of such atrocious professionalism is to be witnessed first hand.

But in the end, it is they who lose out. Unsatisfied customers=Losses. What a beautiful but painful truth.

Fish Slaps for the Jobless Buggers

You know.. the people of this world love to get worked up on things that, in many ways, will not affect their lives. I really don't know why a lotta people want to dip their feet in a pool they're never really gonna swim in. Let me give you 2 classic examples.

I'm sure everyone knows that smoking is bad for health blah blah blah and a thousand shekels. But why on earth is everyone lobbying against smoking?? I recently [by recently I mean 6 months ago] read an article on the Times Of India website entitled "How to humiliate a smoker in public". Let me take this moment in pretending that the writer of this shoddy piece of an attempt to fill up web space is in front of me, so that I can literally climb a ladder and drop a bomb on him/her/it. I really don't get why people are so insistent on desperately trying to eradicate smoking. Sure, smoking is bad, destroys your lungs etc.. but lets look at it like this.

a)It doesn't kill you instantly!
b)You don't end up super high or wasted that you can't function for a sizeable amount of time.
c)Anything done in excess is not good for you.

If I were to pass point (c) through a NOT gate, I can say that we should ban cheese, or chocolate, or sex, or Megan Fox, because those things too are bad for you [Point (c), people]. So why you picking on smokers??
Mr./Ms./Neuter writer of "How to humiliate a smoker in public", how would you like it if someone wrote an article on "How to humiliate a writer who writes about how to humiliate others", you too would feel like such a columnist deserves a fish slap. [A fish slap is a slap wherein the receiver is whacked in the face with a 15 pound salmon. First made popular by Monty Python].

Another example that people love to jump on is the whole gay sex/marriage drama. Recently in India [for my international readers, I'm from India.. sadly], Article 377, which criminalizes gay sex, was abolished by the Delhi High Court, but not completely by the Supreme Court. But even before that, LGBT organizations have fought for equal rights [you probably knw the saga better than I do].

Pray, why is this an issue??

In the words of comedienne Wanda Sykes, "If you are against gay marriage, Don't marry a gay person!".

It's as simple as that. People worry about what these 'abnormal' people would do if they have equal rights. In their heads, it seems that with the dawn of equal rights for homosexuals, all hell is gonna break loose. These so called freaks of nature are gonna parade around everywhere, making scenes, wearing weird clothes, talking girlishly and the worst of all - there's gonna be gay orgies in front of the vegetable shops and the train stations.

6000 fish slaps to all you dumbfucks who think like this!

The crux of what I'm saying is that the people you hate, and think are abnormal or weird or lame or bad, are probably a lot more nicer than the people you are comfortable with. Be with a man or woman's who's so comfortable with his/her alternate sexuality that he/she wants the world to know, which is, in many ways, a brave thing, or a guy who puffs a cigarette. Think about it. Why would people want to choose to be gay, knowing the hardships it'll bring? Or why would people wanna smoke, knowing its bad for them? There are a zillion answers for those two questions.

But annoying people swimming in pools that they don't have to, that's not a solution.

Bomb A - The Bomb

A whole year has flown since I first landed in Bombay, with a purpose [all prior visits to Bombay were purely recreational and transit oriented]. It's been a painfully eventful year, where a lot of lessons were learnt.

You know.. 4 years ago, if you had told me I'd end up working in Bombay, I'd've grabbed you by the fungal growth that is your hair, and flushed your head in a toilet.But today, its a different story.

There was a point in time where it looked like I'd've become a pure bred Mumbaikar. My parents worked here for about 7-8 years. But as fate worked its unpredictable course, I was born in the world's lamest city [read Trivandrum]. A few months later, my parents shifted base, and I grew up in the world's most misunderstood country [read Saudi Arabia]. I was never blessed to have influential or cool people in my life, so I grew up having a lame perspective of the world. That's what happens when you grow up away from the place where everything happens. If you've ever wondered why some people are so lame and not upto date with the latest trends, think about people who grow up in places like Trivandrum, or those puny little villages that come just before Manipal.

But being an NRI helped other people distinguish me from 'my kind', and it still does help me to this day. If I look back at my life, even though I never got to do anything that I really wanted to do, I have ended up in places I never expected to be. And one of them is Mumbai, the place I would've been in, had my parents continued to live here.

I had been to Mumbai so many times in the past, but I barely had any recollection of it, except for the fact that it looked so weird and unappealing. But this was the past. Come 2008, a good 14 years since my previous trip, and I finally got a good look of India's commercial capital, the city where Bollywood stars parked their asses every night, and the CEOs of India Inc. sealed major deals.

And at first, I just couldn't get it. I couldn't see why people called it "India's coolest city". I hated everything about it. It's so cluttered. So hot. So humid. So loud. So filthy. It looked like a giant conglomeration of itsy bitsy villages. And weird villages. I couldn't fathom how people thrived in such a retro setup. It was mind boggling and at some instances, blood curdling.

I remember the first 2 weeks when I was looking for an apartment. I looked at 25 prospective places to call my crib. I wanted a place where I'd feel happy to come home to, at the end of the day. I saw places that gave me instant nausea. Places decorated with 4 foot idols of Krishna in all his blue glory, and the pungent smell of Indian frankincense flooding the air around the 500 sq. foot one bed room apartment that looked like its never had a paint job since the Gulf War.

I finally found a lovely apartment in a great housing society that has its own Wikipedia page in the outskirts of one of Bombay's satellite cities [read Thane]. But I still couldn't come to grasps with the things that made Bombay so great.

Those local trains are something to behold. So archaic are the designs of most of the trains. The stations look like they were built somewhere before my dad was born. The tracks are home to the largest population of rats in India. The smell of urine that wafts the air is oh so omnipresent. And crowds just blow you away. The expression 'as tight as a can of sardines' is a gross understatement here. I have personally experienced the crush density in a Mumbai local train.. at 12:20 AM! My ID tag snapped, shoes got flattened, got the body odor from the armpits of 31 different men all over me [without even having sex with them.. Don't picture that] and almost snapped my spleen and medulla oblongata.

And this is the lifeline of the commercial capital of India. These trains that have kept Mumbai moving all these ages. Pushing tightly packed loads of people from A to B. Without it, there is no Mumbai. Just separate towns like Churchgate, Andheri, Borivali, Ghatkopar, Dadar and so on.

But there is one thing about Mumbai. And its the feeling you get when you live here. An irritating sense of belonging. Despite the rats and the armpit smell and the hot weather that makes you feel like you're a flambe dish, you'll instantly start connecting to the place. There are so many elements here that make Bombay a snowglobe, which when shaken, portrays a scintillating picture of harmony.

And it is in Mumbai where I learnt some of life's hardest lessons. And I learnt it in the worst possible way.

I learnt that not everyone is as he/she seems. I was someone who thought life, even though it may suck at the present moment, gets better with every day. I always thought it was all about patience and hardwork and trust. Four years in college never showed me how wrong that was. It took one day where 10 men walked into Mumbai with guns to show me how painfully wrong I was. Many people, from CEOs to simple housekeeping staff at a 5 star restaurants to your common man who works so hard for his family and travels miles everyday, lost their lives on the 26th of November, 2008. I wasn't all too far away from the danger either. Infact I was on a train home when the madness began. In the days following the onslaught, I learnt how ruthlessly cruel life can be, and how ruthlessly apathetic people can be. I learnt who my friends were, and surprise-surprise, I had none. Barring my parents, two colleagues and my boss [who called to see if I was coming to work], I didn't even get one phone call. Since this moment in time, I've started to re assess my life, and all the choices I've made, especially the choices that led me to hang out with certain people I shouldn't have hung out with in the first place.

I also learnt another thing just before coming to Bombay. I learnt that nothing is as it seems. A man who cycles all the time can't be too entertaining. A family you've always had respect for, can turn and stab you right through your tummy. A cause you've been believing for a while, may not be the greatest cause yet. A girl you've liked can turn out to be the hugest let down yet. And idiots can get what they want.

I've also learnt that for many people, life is all about hard work and building your esteem. I've worked so hard to build the resume I have, and I try to take pride in small minute things that its borderline pathetic. And yet, despite all this, there will always be people who'll make all you look like some dung beetle rolling a huge pile of shit uphill. I've seen many people, including my own brother, push off to better pastures, a brighter future, a happier life, while I still struggle to hop out of Bombay. Absolute twats, some of them. I try not to feel sorry for myself, but I know how unfair life is. This feeling acts like morphine, in that it numbs you up so bad you stop caring.

And finally, even though I knew this lesson for a really long time, I recently watched a movie where I heard a line that best epitomizes this. Life is lonely. You come in alone, and you go out alone. And people will do anything to fill that void with anything. Love, God, Sex, drugs, alcohol, music, clothes, money, etc. Whatever be it. It is what you choose that makes you who you are.

Bombay - a city where life teaches you so much. The marriage of extremes. A potpourri of beautiful, ugly, painful, exquisite, iconic and decptive. A bomb of too many elements, that exploded God knows when, but a bomb many people are thankful for.

The People I admire

Preparing for the GMAT has opened my eyes to the world of application procedures. Many are the hours I've spent isolating one university from another, on different criteria that range from faculty to tuition fee to the basic crowd at each place. In the process, I've also had the opportunity to look at the zillions of essay topics each school chooses its applicants to submit. Most of them generic questions like "Why should we choose you?" [A Captain Obvious Answer: "Because I'm Captain Obvious.."], "What are your goals?" [A Captain Jack Sparrow Answer: "Bugger, I did not think this through.." ] and "What do you like to do for fun?" [Captain OneNightStand Answer: "I like to go a bar and.. long story short.. (censor)"].

Of course, one of the most famous and widely used [and abused] question is "Who is your role model?" or "Who do you admire the most?". A question where 90% of the answers fall in Dad, Mom, Obama, Luke Skywalker, Shah Rukh Khan, Abraham Lincoln, Mahatma Gandhi,Marilyn Monroe and Hermione Granger. Very rarely do people actually analyze themselves to figure out who it is that inspired them to reach where they are. Of course, it'd be hard if you're someone who makes a living at McDonald's.

I am someone who's been influenced by many people. From my very own family to the peons at work, I find role models in different people who I respect and admire. Some may find my choices absurd,but 'm here tonight to list out the entities that I admire.

1. Shashi Tharoor

I've stated many times that I'm not patriotic. But if there's one person who makes me proud to be Indian [actually, more proud to be Mallu!], its Shashi Tharoor. I admire him. He is like the epitome of purity to me. A diligent man who truly loves his country. His contributions to the world and to our nation is deservably commendable. It is solely because of him I wanted to vote! [but I couldn't as I wasn't in Trivandrum at the time]. The most amazing thing about him is his humble approach to life. I strive to be like him.

2. Gordon Ramsay

This scotsman is one bugger I admire, simply because he is a perfection nazi! If its not right [even if its a little off], its the chopping block. I wish life was like Hell's Kitchen where I can yell at dweebs who don't do shit right.

3. Eric Cartman

My man Eric is a friggin' genius! His credo in life is simple but deep... "RESPECT MA AUTORITAH!", else "Suck ma balls". This evil genius gets all my love, simply cuz he's the bomb when it comes to hatching supremely sinister schemes of making moolah, taking advantage of Butters and ripping off all the Jews, Gingers and Black [Just to clarify, I'm not a racist :) ].

4. Stewie Griffin

I never thought an evil infant with a British accent could ever influence me. This effeminate tot with a diabolical scheme to kill his mum has touched me deeply with his hilarious rants, conniving statements and Rupert.

5. Arsene Wenger

One of the greatest managers in the world of football. The wise frenchman has the gift of taking unknown young faces and making them into soccer legends. The likes of Thierry Henry, Patrick Vieira, Robert Pires, Francesc Fabregas and so many others are greatful to this great soul. His wisdom is unlike anyone else's. He is a huge source of inspiration and has helped me to be able to put my trust in God, because just like Arsene knows, God knows too.

6. Queen Rania Of Jordan

To me, this is the most beautiful woman in the world. Everything about her is awesome. Grace, looks, style, humility, conduct what not. Even though she is a queen, her actions show that she has a greater purpose in life. Her charitable efforts and her humanitarian initiatives have earned her my adoration. If only I was King :).

7. Freddie Mercury

A man who twisted the world of music, with his charisma, his voice and his music. Queen would have been "23rd heir to the throne" if Freddie Mercury wasn't around. Gay or straight, the impact this man made cannot go unnoticed. It's true that too much will kill you, just as sure as none at all.

8. Heath Ledger

..nuf said.

9. Stephan Pastis

The creator of my favorite comic strip, Pearls Before Swine. This man's witticism deserves all praise. The father of Rat, Pig, Goat, Zebra, The Gator fraternity, Guard Duck, Maura, Farina, Pigita and Toby The Agoraphobic Turtle [:D] is a man of excellent humor and deadpan sarcasm.

10. Jesus

I don't want to sound like a preachy christian who tries to drive the nail of God right through your head, but I have to admit, I admire Jesus. If you read the bible [even infrequently like me], you'll learn that Jesus discovered his purpose and strove till the end to acheive it. He didn't go about running around and blackmailing the Jews to swallow the truth, but did spread his message with love and kindness. You may or may not believe that He died for the sins of mankind and all, but let me put it this way.. all his disciples died a horrible death out of defending his teachings. Doesn't that make you wonder how awesome He must've been? I've always wanted to live a life where my actions would impact the way others live [maybe not to the extent of dying for my sake!], but to at least help improve someone's life by my actions.

This list may seem weird, but in the words of Eric Cartman.. "Screw you guys.. I'm goin' home!"

Basics of Bharat Boinkers - Chapter I

Just for today, I'd like to educate all of you on a few different things that are plaguing this country [ and probably other countries where Indians have infested]. I'm gonna enlighten you on 3 different nuisances.

• Phone Whores

Contrary to popular belief, a phone whore is not a whore who lives in a phone, or what not. A phone whore is a person [yes, it can even be a guy] who spends 21 hours and 34 minutes talking on the phone to either exclusively one other phone whore [of the opposite sex.. unless the former whore is gay] or many other phone whores who are jobless. In India, take a 360 degree turn and you will find phone whores on 326 of them. In 89% of cases, phone whores are lousy single women too scared to be seen with a man [even if he's the guy operating the lifts], who use cell phones to text and talk to their 'boyfriend' [in reality, he's a World Of Warcraft dweeb who jacks off to Princess Leya and Stiffler's Mom]. They can particularly be seen in office spaces, spending every waking moment with the phone stitched to their ears, and their mouths running amok on stories of the puppies they wish they could pet but can't because they secretly think its gross. Strangely, victims of this habit are purged from this misery the moment they get married, after which they start using a phone like normal people - to wake up and answer only relevant calls.

• Indian 'Brother/Sister' Mentality [IBSM]

If you've spent at least 3-4 years in India, chances are you've come across this bumsore of a situation. You meet a guy who's clearly head over testicles for this cute [or rich.. or even both] babe. You see them chill out, do stuff together, take nice walks, buy 60 watt bulbs [??]. But something's missing there. You ask your buddy the following..
You: 'Hey buddy [I say dude..], whats with you and that nice girl? Enjoying yourself :) ?'
Buddy[For me.. its douchebag]: 'Don't talk like that!!!!! She's my sister [??!!], yaar..'
This is your classic case of Indian 'Brother/Sister' mentality. Romeo says Juliet is his didi or behan or cousin didi or step didi or foster didi, because somewhere between watching too much Nature Boy Ric Flair, and Kyunki Saas Bhi Bahu Thi [BTW Mallus are also guilty of this], his balls crawled up and proxied for his tonsils.
There is no cure for this. Except a kick in the nuts.

• Eggless Cakes

Whether people say it or not, everyone loves cake.Cheesecake, Gateaux, Ice Cream cakes, Chocolate, Fruitcake, Tiramisu.. the list goes on.

And then, veggies decided to pull the fun outta everything by introducing eggless cakes.
You know what happens when eggs aren't added to the cake mix? The cakes come out hard and rough, like burnt toast. Way to ruin the mood. Perhaps we should make milkless paneer, as milk also comes from an animal. Perhaps we should declare things like pancakes, french toast, paneer, ice creams, cakes, rasmalai, cheese, kheer, etc. contraband to all vegetarians. For we cannot ruin good things like that!!

I respect vegetarians, but eggless cakes are not cool, dude. Not cool at all.

• Anonyrats [AKA Hornyrats]

Anonyrats was first coined by Sir Tobias Thomas Abraham III, OBE, in 2003. It was first used to describe a leech who likes to call random victims up in the hopes of seducing them like succubi and converting them into [hold your breath!] PHONE WHORES! [Ya Allah!]. The term then quickly found usage during the advent of Orkut, when random ugly teenagers who just hit puberty mustered up oodles of courage to send friend requests to girls who, in the attempt to showing off to the world how beautiful they are, put up pictures of Aishwarya Rai, Priyanka Chopra, Priety Zinta or a cute baby who crapped his diapers in place of their profile pictures. This led to tons of sexually excited males flooding the Orkut server with friend request, thus pushing Orkut founder Orkut [yes, that's his name..] Buykokten to say 'Damn you Hornyrats!!!'.
Once you fall into the trap of a anony/hornyrat, redemption is panstaking. Best thing to do is to block the person.



So the next time an Anonyrat tries to Phone Whorify your ass by taking you into the shower to 'brain'wash you with IBSM, toss a chocolate eggless cake his way, and tell the wanker to toss off.

Peace.