Lazy Ramblings

For lack of creativity and anything extraordinary to write, I started drooling over a few topics that made the news over the past couple of days - -

1. And Justice for all - Finally Jessica Lall's soul can rest in peace. This really has been a one of a kind case where the Indian media for a pleasant change canvassed the entire re-investigation campaign. Even though the verdict is yet to be passed, the guilty has atleast been made to consume a daily dosage of 'muffins'. I'm all for a 'life sentence' rather than a quick trip to the gallows and beyond. The reason being, Manu Sharma is all of 29 yrs old...young enough to spend his lifetime in jail reminiscing he horrid crime he commited. The thought itself should be good enough to drive anyone insane. Dafa 302 would only liberate him from the impending agony... and a scumball like him doesnt deserve to get such a noble death. Thoughts???

2. Dude looks like a lady - Inspite of all the advances our country has made over the years, its pretty much been a stagnant growth on the sports front. A few that are succesful are hounded by the press, public and (now) doctors alike. Santhi apparently failed a 'gender' test after winning at the Doha Asian games. Its hard to fathom how she (innocent until proven guilty) must be feeling right now. The ignominy that awaits her when she steps into her small destitute village, the shock that her parents must have endured and above all the disappointment of having worked so hard and being stripped off her medal is way beyond contemplation. I'm far from being an expert in these 'chromosome' tests, but I firmly believe that after an initial failure, a 2nd test has to be performed immediately before releasing the story to the media. The way this has been handled right now is pretty pathetic...the damge has already been done. Say for arguement's sake, the tests turn out to be negative, returning the medal would hardly serve as damage control. The pain, suffering, misery and the anguish that the athelete has to go through in that time frame is not something the Olympic Committe would be able to compensate for. The same arguement goes for the drug tests. If the 1st sample indicates presence of banned substabces, tke a 2nd (stool sample) and for cross-reference. I think Santhi should be given a fair chance...comments?

3. Pak Chik Pak Raja Babu - I could not stop laughing at Sreesanth's antics after clobbering the incessant mosquito Nel for a towering six. The gyrations reminded me of a certain Govinda thrusting his pelvic riding a Yezdi in Raja Babu. Sreesanth has joined the elite (but small) group of Indian cricketers who have responded magnificiently after an altercation. Only Prasad (v Sohail) and Harbhajan (v Ponting) spring to mind. But its not all fun and games with we Indians. The ugly face of being on the wrong side of double standards raised its despicable hood again. For all of Nel's chatter (throughout his insignificant career), for all of the Aussie sledging and the Kiwi's 'innocuous' banter, its always the Indians who are reprimanded. I'm not saying Sreesanth is a saint from the temples of Guruvayur but he is as culpable as Nel for the every other ball ball he delivers. I know, its only 30% of his match fees and going by the leverage he would get after this performance (with the ball as well as his balls) its pretty insignificant. But its the same old story of yet another victim which includes elite thugs like Sachin, Dravid, Sehwag and Prasad. Oh and before I sign off...my request for Sreesanth in the next match is a Waltz with Nel...sparks would surely fly :-)!!!

The Three Templates

This cold weather in December and the inability to kill time after work (in some cases at work), always brings out the uber-pensive, moody, introspective individual in me. It doesn't help that the birth-mark L has been etched permanently on my forehead so the high point of the day is usually an after 9 EST worthless chat with fellow Freaks. A plethora of second-standard jokes and leg-pulling sessions ensure that I sleep well only to wake up to another gloomy, lackadaisical rotation round the earth's axis. Balls, Bhaiyya and I were discussing the other day about how we can easily find parallels in each other's present lifestyle and the state of mind that each of us are in. The following templates will sum up our sentiments and give an account of the day to day happenings over the past few weeks.

The work template: Having spent a majority of the day finding out the latest happenings on rediff.com and Kantiesque chatting with each other, it is no suprise that the theme has been g**** pe @ work. Some fortunate people have the luxury of working at home and continuing the good work if you know what I mean. For such people this WFH (Work from home) template will serve really good
"I will be working from home today. I can be reached at xxx-xxx-xxxx or via email"
Since this will be in use more often than not, I find it better to store it as WFH.txt on my desktop and use it as and when needed.One interesting thing to note is that there is no need to give any reason as to why you want to work from home. You may want to just relax, catch a movie, sleep or write a blog for crying out loud. WFH can be used contructively too as you can read each and every article on rediff.com and dicuss about people who have the makings of cult figures.
A typical coversation in the afternoon on a WFH day
Aup: Balls..kya kar raha hai..g**** pe hai ?
Bala: Apna kya hai re..ek mahine se g**** pe hai
Aup:Rediff padha ki nahi ?
Balls: Padha naa..stars who died young..Babbar saab ne bol diya hai.."Smita was an integral part of my life karke"
Aup: Savaal hi nahi hai..also pretty good discussion about Smita Patil, Meena Kumari, Madhubala, Guru Dutt, Geeta Bali, Geeta Dutt, Sanjeev Kumar and K.L Saigal in the "stars who dies young section"
Balls: Haan re..waise Manav Gohil ka chat padha kya
Aup: Nahi re..kya hai woh
Balls: Deliver nahi kar raha hai tu..Manav Gohil is the next best thing on India Telly. Uske maa-baap bhi uske baare mein discuss nahi karte honge.
Aup: Chal re..let me get back to blog and rediff
Balls: Chal..me too.

The ice-breaker template: Over the hill is the sentiment here. Having witnessed a Zimbabwe like performance by our parents in the "ladki" department and our present performance being comparable to India's travails in South Africa, we are pretty much left to do the best we can in corresponding to whatever scraps that come our way.So, here are three templates which would be the way each of us introduce ourselves to the girl
Aup: Hi, I am Aup. People have embellished me with many nicks like Aup Baba, Vhyavhichari, R***baaj and people who cannot find A on the keyboard call me Bup. Neways, jokes apart..(Then a truth-concealed section about what I do..blah blah).I saw your partner expectations section on J****.com and though I am not all of that(I am none actually), I must say that I come pretty close (I must not).I have a feeling(like with everyone else..any girl for that matter) that this can go further (the point being that you are so hot) so I would like to either chat with you or have a conversation on fone. This is my number blah blah... if you feel the same. Take care !

Balls: Now Balls takes as much time to write his introduction as he does to write a blog on one of the concerts that he attends. Well thought-of, "detail oriented" and strikingly used repetitions.Heres what his template. I wont copy his entire template but I will point out the striking repetitions !
"My name is Balakrishnan Ramachandran (Yeh...Americans along with trying to solve the mystery of the Flying Dutchman, are still grappling on how to 'fit' my name onto a Credit Card). U cud address me by Vijay (what they call me at home)"
"I am a complete Bambaiyya at heart and wudnt exchange the Kohinoor diamond for my love towards that city."
"On a more personal front, I've a wicked sense of humor, am a stickler for correct English, a fair cook, a good writer and brilliantly lazy :-)"
"If ur still awake at this juncture, I would like to know more about you...ur interests, ur present work, ur career goals or whatever u are comfortable to put forth initially"

Bhaiyya:

"I am Bhaiyya. I was born in M@#**pur eons ago. I am working as a dejine engineer in Company XXX. I held the same job at my previous company. My responsibilities included library dejine. Yaar..woh jo metal routing hai woh 0.09 micron mein fit karna kaafi mushkil ho jaa raha tha. Vcc se Gnd ka jo hai woh sahi nahi ho raha tha. Communicason chip mein P-Well aur N-Well ka jo hai woh routing behen**** hua merese.Synopsis me ek baar yeh kaam ho gaya to fir Skill mein script likh deta hoon mein..fir sahi saa ho jaata hai. Will you marry me?"
"Khaana badhiya bana leta hoon waise. Favorites to Chilli Chicken aur Palak Paneer hai. Paneer jo hai use halka sa tel mein fry kar leta hoon. Fir palak ko tel ke tadke mein pyaaj aur masalon ke saath halka sa butter mein fry kar leta hoon. Fir dono ko milakar halka sa fry kar leta hoon. Uspar aur 2 liter tel daalkar "cheeej" daal deta hoon. Usse madar**** Palak Paneer ban jaata hai. Mujhse lagan karogi kya?"

The congratulatory email template: Given our penchant for "detail-orientation" and everyday discussans on trivial happenings on rediff, it is no surprise that we are still hunting for our better halves.We can't help but stare at the multitude finding their life partners while we are left to write congratualtory emails to everyone on every such occurance. So, a congratulatory email template is a must for people like us

Engagement : "Hi XYZ,Many many congratulations to you on finding our partner. I wish you all the best as you embark on the next step with him/her. I wish I could be by your side on such a huge occasion in your life. Take care and I'll see you once you are back from India"
Marriage: "Hi XYZ, please accept my heartiest congratulations on tying the knot. It is a surreal moment for me to see you guys being friends before and taking your relationship to the next level. I wish you all the best in our endeavors and hope that in each others company you find happiness, peace and contentment for days to come" + second part of engagement template.

So, thats it in a nutshell. It is fitting that this blog has been the high-point today as I am WFH...a day well spent ! So when my boss congratulates me on giving this gift to the blogging community tomorrow by telling me that why don't I become a full time blogger, I will have to tell him
"Blogger ki wardi nahi pehni to kya hua saab..kaam to blogger ka hi kiya hai naa"
and then the legendary
"Kisi ne sach hi kaha hai..baap pe poot, pita pe ghoda..kuch nahi to thoda thoda"

-Aup

Ek, Do, Chaar, Chhe, Dus...BUS!

Reading vcd's "About me" had me in splits yesterday. Its really a shame that Freaks doesn't have a post on its Cult movie. A movie that had dislodge the Cults status of LSA2SB and Snatch with shameless ease. There have been just too many reviews and blogs written on Gunda...so i would like to refrain from the same as I'm pressed for time (well its good to shoot off a lie every now an then) and I wouldn't be able to add my 2 cents to a low hanging fruit (thank u Phatak).

So I started writing this blog with a view to get people's fav dialogue from Gunda (If u havent watched the movie...BURN IN HELL!). Let me start off with my fav dialogue...mouthed by the legendary Mukesh Rishi on seeing his slutty sis raped (yeh the one with - face Sonali, taangein Raveena, aankhen Karishma) molested and cold on top of a 'haathgaadi'.

Munni meri behen munni ... To tu mar gayi? Lambu aata ne tujhe lamba kar diya? Maachis ki tilli ko khamba kar diya?
Arrey mere dil maine kya kya armaan the tere liye...
Maine to tere liye 300 chokre dekhe the...Woh bhi ekdum chikne...
Jo tujhe bhaata wohi tera pati bantha!
Magar tu to katela gurda yaani ki murda ho gayi!

Long Live the legendary Cult movie...waiting for some hilarious comments :-)

License to Kill

Caution: Spoilers Ahead

After a strenuous week at work, I decided to treat myself with a movie. The options at that time were Babel, Casino Royale and the much acclaimed and hated Borat. But, by the time, I left work, the only option available to see was Casino Royale. A Bond movie and having seen all the previous ones, I just had to watch it. I guess, its not so much about the movie or the story but to be able to see all of them. Infact, I have also seen the 1967 spoof of the Bond Movie which has the same name and has the comic genius Peter Sellers as Bond himself.

So what does one expect from a Bond movie, Daredevil and earth defying action, Bond Girls who ooze with sexuality, Bond Villains who have larger than life roles and grandeur plans to rule the world, Car chases which would put mere mortals in awe. And yet, I watch it with all the fascination I can muster. Maybe just to be in a world where it is possible to defeat evil single handedly, maybe to see the world more as a touch of black and white, not having shades of grey.

Yet, I decided to go to the movie to watch all the gadgets, the fascinating cars, the sensuous Bond girls and villains who I would admire them for their plots. But I was pleasantly surprised. This movie is the adaptation of Ian Fleming's first James Bond Novel of the same name published in 1953. But, it is not the same plot. The broad plot is intermixed with today's realities. While the original plot was based on the cold war rivalry between Russia and the West. This was different.

This movie starts at a time where Bond does not have a 00 status. This is a vintage Bond, who is a normal spy and uses his bare hands and his stamina to kill people. We do not see a spectacular mission to set of the movie, but a subdued monochromatic scene where he kills a double agent while reminiscing his first kill. He doesn't waste time on melodrama but clinically kills the enemy like an assassin would do. This scene is a sets the pace of the movie. It is going to be different than all other Bond Movies so far.

This movie is different from all other movies in many different ways. It has the reality of blood money from Africa to the shadow world of terrorism to smooth operators who converts their funds to legitimate means in quite a believable way. The movie does not have glamorous Bond girls and neither the elaborate sex romps which are a hallmark of Bond's persona, but divulges more of Bond the man and his thoughts. There are hardly any swimsuit shots and the one scene is actually a long shot.

Another significant aspect of the movie shows Bond to be not perfect as embodied by Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan before. This movie gives a glimpse of the way Bond thinks about women. Infact, it is the movie where Bond falls in love and is ultimately betrayed. Bond commits mistakes and at times questions his own judgment. The movie does not have the characters in white or black but shades of grey, self doubt, sacrifice, selfishness and this includes even the love interest of James Bond - Vesper Lynd. Sarcasm and Wit are the hallmark of Lynd's character without showing a hint of skin. Bond attempts to charm her to bed but is torn apart with his real feelings for her.

This is a movie, where M is shown to have a family and is not afraid to reign in James Bond if required. She does not give in to the recklessness to Bond while also acting as shrink to Bond. Q or his successor is notably absent from the movie. Total absence of a car chase which again like the swimsuit is over before it started. But its a phase in Bond's career where he moves on from being rough to being sophisticated. But its a 3 hour movie which is almost riveting, thrilling without having all the aspects of a Bond Movie. Daniel Craig cannot be compared to either Sean Connery or Pierce Brosnan but a more believable Bond and is in his own class.

While it does not have outrageous stunts but it has Bond cleaning up his own blood after an encounter to being the suave gentleman to saying the last line of the movie, "The Bitch is dead". It is truly a different Bond movie having a grittier Bond.

The Inexplicable

Disclaimer: The following material is offensive. If you dislike scathing attacks and mud-slinging please speak up so that I can remove you from the blog roll.

As I got off the phone with Balls this evening, I started thinking about a topic to blog. The Kantiesque blog which Balls and I had thought about a few weeks ago had been shelved due to lack of time, creativity and refusal to pen about something chimerical.The impending Monday morning blues had already started creeping into my mind and that, compounded with the perpetual school sleep cycle, meant that I was wallowing in my bed, ruminating about another wasted weekend. Thats when I picked up the fone to check if someone would be awake. Since it was 1 AM EST already the only target was Bhaiyya.
Now it is a known fact that Bhaiyya loses a bit of his mojo or whatever it is when he breathes even an iota of West Coast air. Fathom this.. Bhaiyya has moved to the West Coast now and is breathing all there is to breathe of that air.So our complaints are totally justified and vindicated with Bhaiyya's idiosyncasies over the past few weeks. Here is a transcript of our conversation and ofcourse some things won't be disclosed to maintain it's sanctity (just like pixelated nude scenes on Star Movies)

The start:
Bhaiyya: Hmmmmmm...(long pause)...Aup Baba ki Jai Ho
Aup: Aayushyaman Bhava putr..jeete raho
Bhaiyya: Kya chal raha hai ? (Bhaiyya's trivial and first question)
Aup: Ku.. (interrupted by Bhaiyya)
Bhaiyya: Aaj khaana banaya re jabardast.
Aup: Tu aise trivial cheezein kyoon batate rehta hai ?
Bhaiyya: Arre nahi re.. (starts 10,000 times repeated dialogue) Roj Khaana to Aunty banati hai naa..aaj maine banaya..badhiya bana tha

The middle:
At this point the conversation shifts to how much the girls' looks matter in an arranged marriage and Bhaiyya's incessant FAQs hit the roof. I try to crack a joke on that and end up shooting myself in the foot. Bhaiyya dissects the joke and asks me meanings of a few words along the way raping the joke in his own inimitable way. Then follows a discourse about how he finds it very easy to rate a girl on her looks and cannot comment about guys in the same vein. My question becomes diluted to the point of being rhetorical and I exhort Bhaiyya to leave the thread and start the next.
Aup: Weekend mein Suraj aur Samir aaye hue the..(trying to continue)
Bhaiyya(interrupting again) : Tu paach baar bata chuka hai.
Aup: Arre..mujhe khatam to karne de..kutte ke tarah movies dekha hum logon ne.
Bhaiyya (now surpassing Alok ): Matlab haath aur pair uppar karke "hah..hah..hah" karke dekha kya.
I just keep silent ignoring his remark and let him know the sheer naivete of his remark.
Aup: Neways..Babel dekha hum logon ne..kaafi achchi movie hai..dekh kabhi time mile to
Bhaiyya ( in Bihari mode): Spelling batayega jara ?
Then there are a few more questions..then some "hmmmms" and long pauses and then again a few more questions.

The abrupt end:
Suddenly, as its known in Bhaiyya's recent phone conversations, he keeps quiet and there is not a word uttered in 2 mins. Though this is nothing new, I still ask him
Aup: Tu net surf kar raha hai kya ?
Bhaiyya: Hmmmm (long pause)
Aup:(thinking..Duh.. he was surfing the net all the way long)
Again there is silence for another 2 minutes (no violins playing in the background here). Bhaiyya totally on the fence a la Marw.
Aup: Chal theek hai yaar call karta hoon kal.
Bhaiyya: Chal theek hai..good Night

Has this become a regular thing or is it just me? A conversation with Bhaiyya nowadays lacks the subtle "nuisances" of caustic humor and witty sarcasm of yore. All that is dished out is a plethora of questions, a repeated account of trivial, inconsequential happenings accompanied with sporadic communication breakdown due to a total refusal of speech.
WHHHHYYY ? ......(Silence)

P.S:
The abrupt end was synonymous to the end of a phone conversation with Bhaiyya.

Letter to the Sedator

Dear Mr. Sedator (Greg Chappell),

I was appalled and disappointed with the recent effort by the Indian team in a bid to reach the semifinals of the Mini World Cup. The stage was set for an epic clash at picturesque Mohali. You could see the striking lush green carpet set to the backdrop of beautiful sunflower fields in Punjab yearning for an emotional revenge saga…ala Yash Chopra canvas for many of his one-horse tales. The stadium was split right down the middle: the villainous Aussies having a savage go at each other at the practice pitches, while the coy Indians practicing the age native old warm-up techniques with Kho-Kho. It was a day when D(r)avid was to slay Goliath armed with your unique training methods completely inspired by Rocky Balboa training with gigantic lumber and pounding on Anvil in Rocky 4. But alas…they didn’t have ‘Adrian’ by their side…instead they had a whiny old gaffer in you, Mr.Greg Chappell. Well the only thing common to Rocky 4 and our match was: Where Rocky brought down the Russian Ivan Drago, the Aussies brought down our pants. The search should be on for new training techniques…

Frankly I don’t blame you Mr.Chappell. It’s been 3 years since we defeated the mighty Australians. Everything from passing batons while blindfolded, living in tents and army drills hasn’t worked. You thought a strenuous game of kho-kho would likely be the best way to prepare to beat a team you haven’t defeated in more than a 1000 days. It’s a totally different matter altogether that one of your best batsman is probably is out for over 4 months and as a side-note not to forget that we got drubbed. Practice injuries are part and parcel of the modern game…and you don’t see SRK practicing Kho-Kho in the sunflower fields of Punjab…coz it a MAN’s game. You see what I’m getting at??? Greg - You wanted to instill togetherness and manhood into the squad (and im not talking abt a gay orgy here). Unfortunately though, Kho-Kho didn’t work…but here are some of my suggestions which could be inculcated into your unique training regime:

1. Langdi – I can foresee langdi becoming a huge part of our practice session…and I have good reasons to believe so. A good portion of our ‘core’ players are over the hill viz. Sachin, Dravid, Klums, VVS (well fitness wise he was over the hill even on his debut). It is but natural for these players to suffer from cramps, hamstring pull etc during the course of a match. By regularly practicing langdi, they can show the world that they are a force to reckon with even on one leg. ‘Langdi sprints’ can improve running between the wickets under such circumstances. 10 yrs down the line I can foresee Sehwag trying to sell a Nimbus Production DVD “Langdability” to youngsters on TV – Kids, you want to know the secret behind my longevity in cricket? Watch the screen and you will understand why (Sehwag performing langdi..trying to catch a snail). Well kids don’t be distracted by my bouncing bosom…call now to receive this great TV offer…1800-LANGDI. Operators are standing by to whisk your father’s hard earned money.
   

2. Lagori – Lagori has a gazillion advantages over most of the warm-up routines employed nowadays. First of all, scattering the stones requires pinpoint accuracy which comes in handy for tight direct hit situations. Secondly the quick sprints to gather the stones improves agility and reflexes…ultimately helping in pinching a quick second run. Third and most importantly, avoiding the opponent players throw while you are busy arranging the stones acts as the perfect simulation to evading some really mean bouncers. And as a side note: after the stones are arranged, chanting ‘Lagori…lagori…lagori’ in unison, aides in more vociferous and intimidating appeals to the umpire.
   

3. Chor-Police (Not the chit version) - After all the physically strenuous practice sessions, chor-police would act a good brain cruncher to aid mental toughness. My proposal to you would be to split the team into two: Bowlers (Chor) and Batsmen (Police). The reason behind such a demarcation is for the bowlers to pose a tough and mean exterior and the batsmen to gain style and panache. Guys like Dravid and Sachin can act as the leaders of the Police force (Inspectors) and can foster the younger players like Raina and Dhoni (who can be Havaldars). Sehwag can be the ‘ek-mineet ke liye paan lene gaya tha’ Traffic Police. Similarly for the bowlers, the senior bowlers can be the Gang leaders (Unfortunately for us with Ajit as the most senior bowler, the gang is hardly intimidating).
   

I hope my suggestions are given due thought. It is my solemn pledge that un-wavering adherence to such a practice regime would physically and mentally toughen up our team, achieve unheralded success in the face of sky-high expectations and above all save your job. If you want to avoid the unfortunate situation of having to post your resume on Monster.com, please do give my letter a fair and just reading.

Sincerely,

Balakrishnan.

Running like Bevan

Continuing the 3rd Birthday celebrations of Freaks Inc., here is my humble contribution...a brief bitter-sweet history of our blog to the legendary tune of 'Stairway to Heaven'. Try to sing along to the tune to get a better appreciation.

There was a blog i had known, that Marw had sown
And twas rotting away to oblivion
And he nagged all along, asked if our brains had all froze
Being a bore he got what he had sown for.

Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And his Hotlinks had found a new Haven

There was a whiner called 'Ball' whose heart wasn't pure
And you know his blogging had no meaning
Eating all that you cook, was a Baba with flings
Mostly all of his thoughts were Death ridden

Woe oh oh oh oh oh
Baba lived with a guy, as black as Raven

Long hair, loose he let, his ass was the best
Vcd's inputs were never so pleasing
Tens of names cudve been, genius stroke and twas "Freaks"
And new topics to blog they all were looking

Woe oh oh oh oh oh
Scratching their brains left them unshaven

Goli & Sri joined soon, after sex under the moon
Coz the blog was the flavor of the season
But a new day didn't dawn for the blog was a thong
Lovely front but an ugly posterior

Was Freaks a blunder?

We had a nervous sweat in our eyebrow
But we took a vow
We'll keep blogging and comment MEAN

Yes there were fights and Marw sure did cry
Didn't we have fun
His retorts only made you laugh or yawn

Our blog was humming and it didn't slow coz of CULTS u know
Jemz's acting made u blog him
Dear Bubbah never did we forgo, even a single show
Your greatness lies on every Freaks' mind

{TA DA TANG ... TA DA TANG...Genius air solo by Balls}

~ (Fast) ~

And as we blogged on down the road
'Inspired' KK joined the show
'Sandas' Mike as we all know
Ciphers on us who wud bestow
Now even Todd was brought to fold
Read his blogs very hard
He made sure it wud be your last
When Bhaiyya wrote just one and one thats all
We still rock and now on a roll
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
But we'll never buy a domain of our own

There was a blog i had known, that Marw had sown
Contributors are now one more than Eleven
And we celebrate the 3rd, birthday of Freaks
Cheers to those who've penned, on what we adore

And we're running....like Michael Bevan, uh uh uh.

A timeline

Oct - Dec 03: This was the time when Marw influenced by the ever growing blogging community came up with an idea of a sport blog with Madhu Raju. Balls did his thing and named it "Freaks Inc".This is the time before all of us left for our first trip to India after coming to the US and so no one really wrote anything. The blog was alive though, hosting the incessant hot-linking which was and has been Marw's forte till date.
Jan-Feb 04:- Nothing at all just one post from Marwadi saying that he added Aup to the blog.
March 04:- Truly, this is the time the blog actually came to life. Buoyant due to India’s win over Pakistan in the one-dayers, we saw post after post of cricket but there were very few hotlinks. Of particular note is Balls' comment about Amit Bhandari being a replacement for Nehra and my comment about how thoughtful Bala's blog was..funny as hell. VCD posts his first.
April 04: Our first Metallica experience for people to live vicariously through Balls’ post "My'tallica experience". Belur's christening as "Bhagwaan"and our homage to Raaz and Meghna Naidu. Shawar becomes the new Freak's cult.
May 04: Suraj blogs and more surprisingly Marw writes two blogs. His post about Bala's "Mai terese darta nahi" makes a very interesting read. Suraj copy-pastes a beaten to death naatak.
Jun04: First spiritual blog and two near life experiences…too much of Fight Club in there. Balls’ and Nicole’s versions of their power rafting ups the tempo. How difficult is it to live without the internet is very beautifully dissected in Srikants blog. Marw writes but still hotlinks away to glory.
Jul 04, Aug 04: Strictly OK months. Lets not go thyair

Sep 04: One of the most hilarious blogs and also the most hated in a while. Balls reasons why he wouldn’t want to be Shahrukh Kkkhan in his next life. Aup pays homage to Mahesh Saab’s clairvoyance in his tribute to "Hum Hai Rahi Pyaar Ke". Both the blogs get published in Shrishti due to lack of anything genuine.
Oct 04: First combined blog for Freaks Inc posted by Aup and Balls. Goli gets enlightened with Baba's darshan and dabbles with photoshop ..Aup becomes Aup Baba. Srikant writes one of the best blogs about one of the best parties we’ve ever had.
Nov 04: KK’s first blog which he would like to forget and so would we.
Dec 04: Balls writes one of the most thoughtful and hilarious blogs ever about the history of research.Enough said.
Jan 05- Mar 05: Sri's blog about Swades in March was the one I thought was worth mentioning. But the blog was pretty much alive with Marw's hotlinks and political discussions.
April 05: Balls' writing capabilities reach the zenith. "Eight" is a masterpiece.Sadly, the
only one produced in a month of little activity.
May 05: Mike is added to the blog and he produces one that doesn't vibe well with the Gandhians and the confused in the group. Balls writes his first hand version of Srikant's
(read Javeds) steely nerves in a run chase. Aup doesn't hide his feelings and
showers words of praise on Meghneeyal on his bday.
Jun 05: 20 greatest Freak one liners of all times. Bhaiyya steals the show but writes nothing yet.
Jul 05: KK gets nostalgic (or quotes someone who got nostalgic :-) ). It literally rains cats and dogs in Mumbai.
Aug 05: Bhaiyya's house warming party gives Balls a lot to write and he covers it exceptionally in his blog. Also Marw and Vcd sum up their sentiments on an NRI's feelings on Swatantra Din.

Sep 05:Aup does an Alok with his Baasten travelogue.Todd is added to the blog and Savitha's blog produces the most discussion and brooding over.Balls writes a beautiful poem about life and Bhaiyya finally writes his first blog after a peg of MaCallen about his Std 10 experiences.
Oct 05: Mike writes about the Great Road Trip to San fran. KK writes a good bday wish to Goli Freaks Inc turns 2.
Nov 05:Balls graduates and is dismembered from Aup's sacred cult.Srikant has a hilarious post on the brotherhood's trip to Philly.
Dec 05: Balls openly discusses his morbid fantasies.
Jan 06: Vcd posts a harsh fact on nostalgia. Marw springs back into action with his cricket-related blog.
Feb 06: Aup expresses his frustration over wannabes and Marw follows with a thoughtful blog with a hangover of DCH. Aup sends Jaadya off to NJ with a poem only to find him back in his house capping off Feb with a worthless blog.
March 05:Balls and Aup exhort Sachin to perform in the Mumbai test and are disappointed "yet again". Srikant tries to ignite an argument by praising the hijda but fails. Bhaiyya produces a masterpeice "by his standards" about the various services his courier agency has to offer.
April 06: Low on activity.Mike's 11th standard post makes a good read while I rue another wasted weekend.

May 06: Aup is still smarting from a rude treatment at the hands of a puerto rican waiter. Balls gears up for the football world cup and Marw hotlinks a hilarious video from you tube.
Jul 06: Balls takes us through the travails of his life thus far about living with his name. KK delivers with a hilarious post about the Caucasian White - ticket crazy Bhaiyya
Aug 06: Sriaknts post about HAHK makes a good read. Todd produces two masterpieces not to mention his equally long comments. Todd's post about the types of desis in the US gets posted on desi torrents' forum. Bhaiyya laments on how hes been institutionalized in Baltimore.
Sep 06: A discussion on Vande Mataram. Mike shows all of us that he is alive.
Oct 06: Balls' passion is very much evident in his beautiful write up of the Tool concert. After this the blog goes into a Ghaat Rock spree with yours truly translating "The Pot" and Mike follows with Schism and Lateralus before posting loads of ciphers. Todd posts a beautiful post on Lady Luck
So, thats three years in a nutshell. Couldn't think of anything more original rather than a Harshaesque commentary of walking down the memory lane.It is so interesting to revive old memories and see how our writing has progressed over the years. How more thought has gone into each blog that has been posted. How much we have argued senselessly over inane topics and had a whale of a time. Before it starts getting more Alokesque than it already is, I will end this.

Heres to three years of blogging. Happy B'day Freaks Inc.

Anthem

My mouth was left agape in shock and utter disbelief seeing one of the greatest drivers in Formula 1 history, Michael Schumacher, drive through the Dunlop Kurve chicane in Suzuka only to park his beautiful Ferrari a few metres ahead and walk away in disappointment. With 16 laps to go, Ferrari's engine gave up and ended his hopes to win the race and, unless he gets a bit of divine intervention, the Driver's title this season. It was painful to watch the scene. Two races to go, Schumacher tied on points with his arch rival, Alonso, and comfortably crusing to victory would have given him an advantage of 2 points going into the last race in Brazil. However, luck chose to desert him and Ferrari at the most critical juncture in the championship.

Or should I say, Lady Luck deserted him and his team! Come to think of it, there must be a reason why we impute feminine gender to the concept of luck.

F1 fans and followers are well aware of the legendary reliability that Ferrari has enjoyed in recent years. As a matter of fact, it was in the French Grand Prix of 2000 that Schumi had ever retired with an engine failure on the scarlet beauty. A Ferrari engine blow-up is rarer than the possibility of Leander Paes beating Amelie Mauresmo in a singles match. Factual evidence and outlandish metaphors notwithstanding, smoke billowed from the engine of that car, and unfortunately at the most inopportune moment! Luck shares this innate quirkiness with a woman. Everything might look fine and dandy and she might appear to be cheerful throughout the day, the sort of cheerfulness that makes her man think he's gonna get lucky that night. And when the time is ripe for activity, the proverbial headache or exhaustion creeps out of nowhere!! He can't help but think, "Shit I thought I did a good job at kissing your ass the whole day and now it looks like I'm gonna have to look forward to the shower yet again!"

The rules of grammar of a bastardized language like English often don't ascribe specific gender to majority of nouns. Hindi, on the other hand, is far richer from this standpoint. If you think about English words and use the gender connotation that Hindi provides to their corresponding counterparts, a lot of interesting facts are revealed.

"Car" is such a noun in English that bears feminine gender when considered in Hindi. More than the fact that cars are assembled electro-mechanical parts that often arouse men, they bear resemblance to women at a more fundamental level - Maintenance. Guys are creatures that usually exist by a live-and-let-live credo. They usually are less "detail-oriented" than women. For them, a birthday is just another day. I mean, "Heck I got OLDER by one year so what the fuck should I celebrate!" Now, women are so gung-ho about such specific days that if you don't show the same excitement or if you realize the occurrence of the occasion pretty late into that day or still worse, totally forget about it, your sleeping place is guaranteed to be on the couch for a week or so. Then despite complete foreknowledge, you are expected to fall prey to the Marketing and Advertising demons conjured by companies like Hallmark, Godiva, Lindt and spend money on buying gifts to make-believe you are on the same page as to the significance of this day to mankind. And remember, you are talking about hard-earned money that you were saving to spend on worthwhile stuff like DVDs, music CDs, a Bose system or a memory card (or "Bulbs" in my case). You are then expected to choose words carefully while you write some shit on the card, maybe light a couple of candles over dinner and be your best gentlemanly self....Too much maintenance!! And then Women Liberation Groups stage a dharna saying we reduce them to the level of "objects". Gross display of double standards! Well, if you expect us to maintain you like a commodity or an expensive gadget, I don't understand what's the fuss all about!?!

Bollywood is the most prolific movie-making industry on this planet. When we speak of movies (Hindi or otherwise), we usually say something like "Movie dekhi?" v/s "Movie dekha?" - Feminine gender, yet again. Hindi movies, in a lot of ways, DO provide a good representation of the female race.
-- Majority of them don't care for substance.
-- Most of them are centered around an emotion that defies logic and reasoning, creates complications in a man's life, robs him of freedom and peace and at best, creates an illusion of well-being.
-- Men (Producers and audience) usually pour a lot of money into them. (Side Note: There's a reason why Americans named their currency "Dollars" – 'cause it gets you them dolls!)
-- It takes many about 3 hours to climax!

I also think Hindi scholars in India must have been pretty smart. They created a word called "Aabaadi", a word that stands for "Population" in English, and then attributed feminine gender to it. I think there's a strong flavor of past experience and clairvoyance on their part in this one. Clairvoyance, that when it comes to the Indian population, there's a modicum of probability the numbers are gonna go down. Experience helped them relate it to Indian women. It's true - they rarely go down! I'm sure we are living in changing times but if you consider a large sample space, you would still discover a majority of women who still do not consider bestowment of oral pleasure, a viable instrument of expression of love towards their partner. I simply don't get it (pun intended)! To deprive men of that pleasure is doing disservice to God. Apart from Shahid Afridi, there’s a purpose behind the existence of everything on God's own planet. You think He gifted man the talent to invent a lollipop for whom?...kids!?! Hell no!! It was for women to derive a cue from. Likewise, there’s a reason why He conferred on women, the ability to sit on their knees. This is probably why when men stand, their waist reaches as much over the floor as it does now. Take a hint, ladies!

Recently, I bought a T-shirt from Spencer's that very well goes in tune with the aforementioned noble thought. It read, "Love Sucks, True Love Swallows" – I think women ought to make it the anthem of their lives.

Thirteen, but not the way you think!

TIHSGFECSHHPOENTMOTWDILRLSIRTSIPKERRVWMHMIHOETNFSIEIIPBSDHNFIITTE
YIETIEBLHEIIOEEWIERENRAIIUPDSSLLTTEATHLHITSTFETRELERSAWRLRNATTCENT
CBHUIOAOEHMRHOLIFOATLAIICHRTLLNTLIGNHRINOUUSEPSNICDEUCEPUSNIDLESN
AAEIHETFHATTIDAPTRDLTRTBENKLNPIPENAOWMEESGLULNASHOETIHNANHLDETIS
IEBTSEJIPLSDNOIALCNEISPGNSEXLLNAGYSEYEMTTILCREONUNHAOEDNLRAEOXNEII
IEQJAEGTHAPRAROHUHLAEXFGMAEIMRBELYMWWTTTNTFRUUZASHAUOITORATAN
UATSTBCRNESRIBHBAIROHDQTMIMYSOAPPSSLFENIVOSKIUHLOITOTESEAWSAATAE
UHACPDTMSPAIIEMDTOEWESNGSELNENAAAVDHWMMHTCIETKSOIENYBTNAAIHNUT
TUTGASUGXENKBEAOHWAIWICREBOGATOBC

Not thirteen

OCDNJIZDNXVGGZYIJO13WTHZWZXVPNZDOYJZNI'OPNZ13GZOOZMEPHKN.CJRZQZM,
DONODGGDNVXVZNVMXDKCZM.VGNJ,TJPRDGGIJODXZOCVODCVQZOVFZIJPOVG
GOCZNKVXZNOJHVFZOCDNEPNOVGDOOGZWDOHJMZYDAADXPGO.DATJPBZOOCDND
VHBJDIBOJNOJKPNDIBXVZNZMXDKCZMNJIXZVIYAJMVGG!

Thirteen

Guvf vf pnyyrq gur ebg-13 be gur pnrfne pvcure. Vg vf bar bs gur zbfg fvzcyr pvcuref xabja gb zna. Rnpu yrggre vf fuvsgrq ol n tvira ahzore bs yrggref naq erjevggra. Frr vs lbh pna znantr gb qrpelcg guvf. Znvy zr gur nafjre. Vs zber guna 5 crbcyr pna qb vg, V jvyy cbfg n zber qvssvphyg pvcuregrkg. ZNVY ZR NG zrtuarrytber@tznvy.pbz

whats the world coming to ..

I'll let the link do the talking.

Matka

Incessant enthusiasm to while away time in office and the blatant lack of application for doing something worthwhile (workwise) led me to post this blog. Dedicated to all "Yantra" fans. Balls, Yeti will understand this immediately..the others will have to tickle their grey cells

Bot Dakhavnaara aahes tu kon? tujha doka firla asel
Chiklaat duble tujhe dole, mritakana jagavlaas tu
Kabrela chorun hima tak palnyaat,saboota jaalav
Sabnacha dabba, patte, kancha, ithe tithe dagad fekat firu nakos

Tu kevdhaa varti asasheel

Tondaat pay, dhungnaat doka, kay boltoyes tu?
Katheenay,yavar nachna baher khechi paryant, mulgaa

Tu kevdhaa varti as sheel

Chor,udhar ghe,dakhav vachav tujha kala tarka
Kangaaru jhala latkavla nishpaapla jury barobar

atta tu nilya rangacha radtoy, asel nimbacha ras
tujhyaa dolyachyat, jevha tu mutlaas majhya kitlivar

Tu kevdhaa varti as sheel

Bot Dakhavnaara aahes tu kon? bharun gelaes tu
Chiklaat dubley tujhe dole, harami maansa
Khotardya,vakeel, aarsa dakhav mala farak kay?
Kangaaru jhala latkavla nishpaapla jury barobar

Atta tu nilya rangacha radtoy, asel nimbacha ras
Tujhyaa dolyachyat, jevha tu mutlaas majhya kalya kitlivar

Tu kevdhaa varti assheel

Arre,Bot Dakhavnaara aahes tu kon?
Kon aahes tu mala jade bot dakhavnaara?
Tujhe Doka firla asel

Nilya rangacha radnaara

Khotardya,vakeel, aarsa dakhav mala farak kay?
Kangaarula chadlay, tu paapi aahes rajyaa saarkha

Atta tu nilya rangacha radtoy, asel nimbacha ras
Tujhyaa dolyachyat, jevha tu mutlaas majhya kalya kitlivar

Tu kevdha varti asasheel

Chiklaat duble tujhe dole
Chiklaat dublet gote tujhe
Ganja, baas, tujha doka firla asel.

- Aup

10000 on 10

Enough of Tool 101 (mostly from Wiki) and now lets move on to the concert. Isis the opening act was a disaster. Poor vocals, music just going through the motions but on a positive note, they played only 3-4 songs before Tool took center-stage. They started off with a blistering version of Stinkfist and moved on to the more bass laden ‘The Pot’. We were pretty much way back and hence the first couple of songs just whizzed by surreally.

Coping Maynard’s poetic talents (visit his side-project…exquisite website) are band members who:

1. Worked as a Set designer and make-up artist for revolutionary movies like T2 and Jurassic Park (Adam Jones-Guitarist)
2. Plays percussion inspired by metaphysics and geometry (Danny Carey) and has every piece in his kit resembling a certain geometric figure.

Heavy downpour added to proceedings which coupled with the phantasmagoric music rendered the entire atmosphere an accentuated hallucination. It was only when the first guitar chords of Forty Six & 2 rammed into my eardrums did reality seep in. At this point in time, this remains my favorite Tool track and every note is correctly etched in my ever whimsical brain. The on-stage projections and the psychedelic colors and shapes on the big-screen were in plain Italiano ‘SPETTACOLARE’.

Admittedly, I’ve attended a better concert (Metallica-Norfolk), heard superior musicians live (Dream Theater-Reading) but this certainly was the best show I’ve ever attended.

Unsurprisingly, they started the Encore with probably their most ‘technical’ song – Lateralus which to me was the song of the night. As Maynard vocals ‘spiraled’ over the dark clouds, the on-stage projections changed from black to white and then subsequently to Red and yellow lasers took over to match the songs lyrics. It was an absolute thrill to watch especially if you knew the song verbatim (and of course if you had a better IQ that Forrest). The back-stage was was brightly decorated with small white bulbs which sprang to life when Maynard screamed “Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind” a-cheesy-la Ganpati decorations but fit in perfectly with the song like a glove. The current radio favorite ‘Vicarious’ immediately followed Lateralus which like the previous song was a master-class rendition. The band summed up the evening by rounding off with the crowd favourite Ænema where everyone just threw their hands up in the air when Maynard went: ‘I’m praying for rain’. It was truly a memorable sight. An exceptional night laced with a majestic performance, lighting and some terrific artwork.

Blighted with guilt, I confess; I don’t think I say this enough but Tool to me is the most intelligent band that you could possibly listen to. Their songs range from spirituality to prison sex, from Jungian psychology to religion, from philosophy to golden ratios. Tool is a very different band in the sense that they never appear on telly, rarely give interviews and never release the real meanings to any of their songs.

Aboard the plush shimmering silvery Acura after leaving the Tweeter center on a wet Thursday night, with a parched larynx, sore heels and a contented heart, I decided to break the blog’s hiatus and my indisposition to write concert reviews (even though I’ve many) as this Tool concert was certainly one of a kind.

Maynard was hitting every note to perfection and his voiced soared above Danny’s thunderous pounding, Adam’s mesmerizing solos and Justin’s rumbling bass. Jambi was up next…powerful, angry, sad and dark at the same time. Before you could take a deep breath, Justin started pounding on his bass with Schism. The beauty of all Tool songs is the brilliant melody upfront; typified by the cult classic Schism. Every note was right on the money till they hit what people term as the ‘bridge’ where Danny suddenly went INSANE and pounded his kit at supersonic speed. I stared blankly at Aup with a ‘wtf is he doing’ expression…which was duly reciprocated. Keenan then slowly moved towards the keyboards to play Lost Keys/Rosetta Stoned which was extremely good but the weakest link of the entire setlist (I would’ve gladly done with Parabola or better still…Right in Two). And then came the best part of the show, with Wings for Marie/10,000 Days started the stupendous LASER show. The song itself is capable of elevating you to a trance…the Lasers just added to the feeling. It did seem that the show had almost reached the pinnacle and it was the right time to take a break before the Encore.

(This blog is heavily inspired from the theme of Lateralus where syllables go according to Fibonacci series. Here the paragraphs are all jumbled and the correct order follows the Fibonacci series. The start of every paragraph is a ‘Fibonacci letter’ in BOLD . Just put those in the right order and you would get the correct flow of the blog. Hint - 1(A) 1(A) 2(B) etc....
You don’t enjoy a Tool song on the first go…you need atleast a couple of listens. That is what I’ve tried to capture here. You need to read the blog atleast twice to understand it correctly.
A blog on Tool has to be twisted else there is no meaning to it, and if you cant decipher this then you are not worth reading the blog, leave alone listening to Tool.)

Vande or not to Vande, that is the question

Recently, I felt an ephemeral twang of nationalistic pride when someone filed a writ petition in some state high court asking that Vande Mataram should be sung every day at all government-run and government-funded educational institutions. I say ephemeral because it was short-lived. As I started thinking about this petition, I found it a bit too far-fetched. Moreover, it feels wrong to compel someone to sing a song that they don't want to sing. Even if they do sing it, if it's not going to swell their chest with pride, what use is singing it anyway? It would be like making a monkey hit a green button precisely three times. What does the green button do? Nothing with a capital n. What would they think of next? Should everyone have a peacock in their home? Should everyone play field hockey, have a Bengal Tiger as a pet, a Banyan tree in their backyard, and sport a Lotus on their head to be termed a patriot? I think not.

Tom, Dick & Harry…& Jerry...& to be continued…

My name is Bhaiyya and as my dear friend “Ball” in utter disgust once said, I come from the deep ravines of Bihar. However, I do not live in Bihar anymore (fortunately or unfortunately); I have been living in Baltimore, MD for the past four years. A period of four years is a long time (just like prison time is a long time), I have seen a lot, done a lot during this time. Still remember the day I arrived, the day I met Ball and due to similar interests in Metal and bad habits (deemed by some), quickly became friends. I have met many jerks and the few good men who later on became my good friends after initial scrutinizing (sometimes I feel Airport security should learn scrutinizing luggage from me) and conflicts.

I have seen at least six generations of graduate students here, this experience is very common if you are a PhD student, however becomes unique in my case since I happily graduated from school two years ago but had to unhappily start working in the same area. Lots of people know me and I know many people in this town and somehow my position has become like an old clerk who knows everybody and everything about the office. Or to put it in a better way, a well-off old goon in the village who doesn’t do the real job anymore but every gang still holds him in high regards for his prior achievements. I am your man if you want the job done; most of the jobs being helping people move to Baltimore, away from Baltimore, join a new job, and a change of job. Here I have been inspired by Amitabh’s words from Coolie (with a slight ‘Bihari Club mix’): Sabki Naukri ka bhoj hum uthathe hain

My main expertise is to find cheap accommodation for you in Baltimore, to arrange for transportation; in a nutshell to make sure your transition is very smooth. If I cannot find a place for you; I will accommodate you with me, if I can’t suggest you something convenient for your transportation, I’ll give you a ride. Now getting inspired by Sanjay Dutt and the GREAT Dipak Tijori from ‘Sadak’ everyone in and around Baltimore started singing: Rehne ko ghar nahin…Sone ko bistar nahin….Apna to Bhaiyya hai rakhwalaa…Ab tak usee ne hai paala.

It all started when one of my undergrad friends from UT Austin, called me and said that his buddy, Tom, (The names of characters have been changed to protect their imbecilities) was moving to Baltimore to start his career. Career is a big word and somehow I got the impression that his career was in my hands! Next thing you know I was all over it, starting from asking somebody to give me a ride to the airport so that I can bring Tom home, offered him everything that I could. Helped him buy his car, helped him get his pathetic insurance quote because he had jumped a signal, was under 25 and was buying a new car. I patiently listened to his troubles until Tom moved to his apartment some 30-40 miles away from here.

I forgot to mention something here, Tom sent me his mugshots (before I met him for the first time) so that I could identify him, he also asked about the weather in Baltimore. Tom was coming in May, so I presumed that he was asking me about the winter. I told him, “dude! the cold will freeze your ass”. When I reached the airport, I saw a guy who had striking similarity to Tom’s mugshots and was wearing a winter jacket. I cautiously approached this guy and confirmed that he was Tom. The guy thought the cold weather in Baltimore in “winter of May” will freeze his ass. Holy cow! Is everybody from Texas so dumb? Anyway, so I had this feeling “you are a good man, Paul Rusesabagina”, you took care of everything for somebody, what a sense of achievement! Tom is very nice to me and all but somehow, I don’t hear from him a lot, he has become very busy with his life. Guess the next I would probably hear from him is when he would change his job and come to Baltimore…in essence to me for all of the above!!

Jerry was an acquaintance through Baba who became a good friend of mine before he decided to start his career in Baltimore. The friendship curve of Jerry is very steep, he may sound arrogant initially, but suddenly he would do something so ridiculous (scarred me for life), that you can’t stop laughing saying “Sala….ch***** hai”. I actually enjoyed helping out Jerry. It was a pleasure to spend time with him, have him as a roommate. I will not go into the gory details of my services (and let me be very clear here…NO! IT DID NOT INCLUDE A COMPLIMENTARY BJ) and to keep this blog short and not become like the one from Yatin. Services to Jerry were smooth transition to Baltimore and later on transition to far west, which resulted in the 3500 miles Great Road Trip. Overall, it was the best I had.

Along came Dick. BTW, Dick is short form for Richard, like the vice president’s short name (This piece of worthless trivia is one of the after effects of helping Jerry out…inane information!). The case with Dick was slightly different. Although he has been here for a while, which means the usual 2 year life of a “typical” graduate student, I had to be involved. Not only involved, but stretched the limits of my service domain by getting involved in pre career steps like ride for the interview and stuff. It was like taking a class 9^th kid for JEE preparation where every other kid had cleared 10^th exams.

On Saturday, I got a similar call from one of my buddies in California saying he had a FOB friend in Baltimore and wanted me to help him out. Seriously, FOB, he got off the boat couple of days ago. Let me call him Harry (Now inspired by Hari Narayan Shrivastav a.k.a Harry from Gol Maal….WHAT A PLAYER SIR!). So, after speaking to my buddy from California, I thought, okay I should call this guy up. I was in a party that afternoon and I didn’t want to go out again so later on I kind of postponed the call. About an hour later I got a SOS call from Harry. I appeased him saying don’t worry, I will help you out. And the same saga again, house and car (thank god! not the ride). Fortunately, he is not an engineer so I can’t really help him in his career moves. I drove about 25 miles one-way to meet this Harry guy, I drove because he doesn’t drive in the night :). I parked my car and on my way to the Marriot entrance I am stopped by a desi guy, and here he is in a nice party shirt, Levi jeans and chappals, wow! I suggested him to take some form of ID in case he wanted to drink. In response, he said something, which I didn’t quite get but it sounded like bouncers and bartenders in the old country recognized him that he was some guru in drinking. Apprehending his excitement, I was little worried that he might try to hit on the “bitches”. This kind of excitement is bad and has two types of consequences, worse and worst. Worse being, he is constantly hitting on somebody while he does not have a clue about doing it thereby creating an awkward situation. And, the worst being he actually gets a girl and I have to drive him so that he can get laid!!!

While driving by the shops to find the pub in Harry’s part of town, I had to tell him the brand of every car that was parked in answer to his questions. We found a nice bar and restaurant and we entered. While I stopped at the entrance to be seated, Harry kept walking and the server was shocked for a moment. I jumped in to tell the server that we wanted to go to the bar and Harry heard it and came back. While having the drinks, I gave Harry a short tutorial about life and culture in America like how to drive, how to say phone numbers and how to hunt, something, which I think puts me in gray area (the same old loop-de-loop). Turns out Harry is definitely better than the scary FOBs, he didn’t pay 1000 Rs for his drinks rather he paid 20$s and asked me about the tip. I am hoping to quickly get over with his business. I wish Tom, Jerry, Dick and Harry all the best in their career and I hope that my bit helped them achieve their career goals. Do I feel a sense of Power in Baltimore…Hell no! Thinking about it, what is power? Don Vito Corleone was powerful, everybody came to him for his help. What I did not realize was “with great power comes great responsibility”. I’m in a way institutionalized in Baltimore, I feel like a Guide singing the same song (again inspired by Amitabh from Don) to whoever comes to Baltimore for the first time : ‘Ee hain Baltimore Nagariya tu dekh babuwa…’

Through the lens of a loser lesser sociologist

Furiously chugging away, on a Friday night, several delicious Smirnoff Oranges straight off rocks, Tool’s unique brand of psychedelic-metal playing on my laptop, I happened to be on our blog reading Sri's hilarious moment of frustration with MTNL and at the same time, recalled that he now has an offer from IBM India. So after writing a congratulatory note to him, my mind somehow, without the bearer's permission (you know how it is when you're down a few rapidly-consumed drinks), donned a pseudo-sociologist's robe and started pondering over the race of Indians, a race that's been copiously infiltrating the American soil since the 1960s.

It got a bit bolder and then decided to segregate the male desi population in America into 4 categories:
Category 1: Good old homegrown desis wishing to pursue Masters with average/above-average educational qualifications and many of them, with a resume that's as well-oiled as their scalp.
Category 2: The above category with a Masters diploma and 2-3 years of work-experience - the now-half-smartass, “ain’t nobody wiser than me”, complete-wannabe types.
Category 3: Thoroughbreds with a high-school (or equivalent) diploma and probably a dad with a very fat wallet, wanting to pursue undergraduate studies in the US, and
Category 4: Desis sown and grown in India, but only for a little while, who then migrated with their parents at age 9-10 or thereabouts, did pre-high school, high school, Bachelors, Masters (only if they didn't get a satisfactory dose of spanking inflicted by this education system) or a Ph.D (only if they had serious mental issues or an unfathomable love to be in school for that length in time)

For a quick second then, in that blissfully alcoholic state, my mind paused, much like the way my tongue does before it jets out a river of thoughts not before having translated them into stuttering sentences, and I could hear it say "How could I miss one of the most interesting categories? – The ABCDs!!"

Continued here....

Make hay while...

Today morning was just like any other except for a gentle sense of relief borne out of an escapist’s realization of the approaching weekend. I adjusted the chair in my cubicle which had been facing away from the computer, a byproduct of my enthusiasm to rocket out of the workplace the previous day, and began sipping on a cup of coffee. My life’s marked with constant endeavor to earnestly evade hard work and the hour or so that I devote every morning to reading news and surfing for the same information over and over, seems to quite nicely fit the creed I live by.

It’s been in the news everywhere since yesterday – “British authorities foil a terrorist plan to blow up multiple airliners traveling between the United Kingdom and the United States of America, a plot to create mass murder on an unimaginable scale”.

Now it’s interesting to note the verbal grandiosity of the phrase “mass murder on an unimaginable scale” and its repeated occurrence on almost every site that has covered this episode. I don’t know about you, but I sure do smell a distinct whiff of Uncle Sam here.

US political honchos were quick in their propaganda of “being actively involved in working concertedly with the British government in identifying and nullifying this threat”. “The co-operation on this venture was excellent”, quoted Bush on NY Times. Right after I read the news yesterday morning, I had an uncanny feeling of America taking such a stand during the course of the day – and sure enough, they did not disappoint me.

Ever since 9/11, men with political power in the United States have tried to instill and disseminate fear in the minds of Americans. They invented a system of grading the possibility of a terrorist attack which anyone can get a glimpse of on any airport in the country. Periodically, they have got accustomed to messing with the “threat level” and making people aware of an unknown fear that lurks around the corner. When they were unsuccessful in burrowing out the alleged perpetrators, they turned their attention to Iraq. Using media as their weapon, they created an illusion of Iraq being involved in building “weapons of mass destruction” (again, note the verbal grandiosity I was talking about earlier) that could endanger lives of Americans, and you know the rest – no such weapons unearthed, commencing war on Iraq, apprehending Saddam, continuing war on Iraq, losing lives of American soldiers, killing Iraqi civilians, war continued, Private Green raping an adolescent and killing her family, and the list (and the war) goes on.

Ladies and gentlemen, with the US House elections around the corner in November, it’s time for another dose of fear! It’s time to join hands with the media again and make people believe that their safety and well-being ultimately rests in the hands of Republicans, a conglomeration of the noblest of men, who have relentlessly strived to wage a war on terror!

I strongly believe this incident is going to be well ruminated over by Bush and gang, in the next few months. They so desperately need this to distract focus of the American populace away from the stalemate in Iraq!

And to provide comic relief, Tasnim Aslam, a spokeswoman for the Pakistani Foreign Ministry joined the bandwagon today and was heard spitting on media microphones – “Pakistan played a very significant role in breaking this terrorist network”.

Oh yes baby! There’s absolutely no doubt about Pakistan’s intelligence quotient when it comes to huddling heads with the likes of The Scotland Yard and the CIA. There’s absolutely no doubt Pakistan would want to embrace this stance, especially after several of the suspects arrested so far, have their origin linked to that country. And we can understand if you want to divert the attention of the international community away from you after a spate of bomb explosions in Mumbai raised suspicion of your involvement. And not to forget, Pakistan has been lobbying hard to play tit-for-tat and nominate one of their own against Shashi Tharoor for the post of the UN Secretary General, and a “contribution to world peace” effort would stand them in good stead, if at all they find a wanker capable of nomination.

My friends, we ARE living in a Hollywood movie.

What is in a name???

My name is Balakrishnan Ramachandran (and no Marw I’m not putting my full name here to increase the hits on me from Google ;-). Over the past 25 yrs or so since I’ve groped reality, my name has been raped to good effect. It started off with people calling me Bala (fair enough). It’s probably the most clichéd nick to any loser by the name of Balasubramanian or Balachandran or Balamurthy. As friends reached puberty, it gave them enormous thrill to tweak Bala to something lewd – Balls. Most of my childhood I lived with being called Balls except in one case where an idiot who for some reason started calling me ‘Bullock’.

I kinda liked it in a way…Balls sounded too cool till I arrived at UMBC and met a bhaiyya from the deep ravines of Bihar. Having failed in English a zillion times in high school, he didn’t understand the subtle nuances of a prefixes or past participles…Balls became ‘Ball’ and eventually in his native earthy Bihari translation became ‘Gota’. I sighed and accepted it thinking its one of kind from a person who is one of a kind too! How naïve was I!!! Whilst working at LCS, a Russian lady (reiterate it’s LADY not a girl…desp MOFOs) asked me my name. I sensed trouble but still held my breath (which was stinking anyways) to utter : B A L A. She shot back : How do you spell that “B A L L” ? We all know that the Russian alphabets are more or less mirror images of the English letters but this was just sodomy! I decided not to kill her thinking about her hungry relatives in Siberia.

Another person who has raped my name time and time again is my dear friend my Rupil Sant. He is one of those hard core Wren and Martin lovers who is fascinated by adverbs so much that every sentence of his has to have one (many a times a lot) ADVERB atleast. “Pathan kya fantastically bowling daala re….brilliantly daandi nikala maadarchod ka….level dekh re…GODLY hai”….so there you go. He had to contort my name into an “adverbly” name and thus….Ball became Bally. To add more misery he turned me into half Cantonese…Ballee. And to top it off and add Tata Namak to my carcass, he wrote a song-

Kissi Shayar ki Ghazal…BALEE
Kisi Jheel ka kamal…BALEE
Kahin to milega…Kabhi to milega
Aaj nahin to kal…BALEE

My dad doesn’t know of this…else he would die the most painful of deaths.

Apart from this, hordes of 'insignificants' have molested my name time and again.

Office - There is this Redneck accountant who calls me ‘Beala’, and Chinku who calls me ‘Bowla’ and a Sindhi wannabe white who calls me ‘Bayllah’.
Out side of Office - Dr. Phatak used to call me by my email address 'balakri' and one smart ass named Mahesh remixed that too to call me 'balki' on the cricket field.
I’m not sure if you guys have ever heard about a show on Animal planet called ‘The most Exxtreme’ where they rank animals according to most ferocious, protective, caring, predator etc. If there ever was to be a show “The most Exxtreme” name rapes, you sure do know who the winner would be!

Well the reason I started to write this blog (other than to make my boss think im really working) was another case of name molestation that happened today morning. I had to visit an eye doctor to replenish my contact lens quota. I filled out the application form and handed it out to the doctor who just screamed after looking at my name – “Holy Smoke!!! How in God’s holy name do you say that??” I condescendingly said – “Just call me Bala”. She still was pretty shell shocked as to how long my name was and quipped – “No offence meant but the entire thesaurus is in there.” I smiled wryly (yep another adverb ;-) and said “I don’t quite think so unless the Thesaurus is just 24 letters."She took notice that I wasn’t too impressed and pressed on to say – “Well in that case I’m just going to call you Bala24”

So there you go folks…another feather to my dad’s cap for making my life miserable. I’ve faced so much misery and ignominy regarding my name that it just doesn’t bother me anymore. But I’ve decided that I’m not going to make my sons life miserable. He would have a short name which nobody would be able to fuck around with….he would live happily ever after….I’m would name him Vekantachalapathi Balakrishnan.

Immigrant !!!

This is a collection of events which has occurred with my friend Bhaiyya. Bhaiyya commands such respect in the country now, that he is considered a naturalized citizen rather than a non-immigrant.

Bhaiyya, comes from the same location, where Nalanda University existed in ancient times or where Laloo rules now. IIT educated Bhaiyya is a typical Indian. He has black hair, brown skin and Hindi which will put guys like me from Mumbai to think if its a foreign language. His English language is accented.

So our story starts at the beginning of this year, when Bhaiyya was searching for a new apartment to stay. He wanted to move to a new apartment after Mike left for the west coast and his inability to get a roommate for a 3BHK apartment was turning out to be a costly affair.

Bhaiyya was visiting a lot of rental places to enquire about rates and see apartments for himself. However, his applications are rejected by Rental agencies for "Having too high an income". Yes, dear readers, I was also surprised to hear of that being one of reasons to get rejected. Now, he is tired after a month long search accentuated by the rejections, strikes up a conversation with a random white guy at the gas station. They talk about different locations where apartments would be available and Bhaiyya discovers that some of them maybe available. However, the guy tries to warn him with good intentions, those areas contain a lot of foreigners, Asians and Indians. Imagine a white guy warning Bhaiyya about Asians ... Well Bhaiyya thought maybe he was considered a white. We said, maybe you are black.

This long weekend, we went to Raleigh, NC. Since we were 4 of us, we decided on travelling luxuriously in a big car. However, we got Nissan Sentra .. the smallest possible. More to our surprise, we saw that the car doesnt make 65mph without flooring the accelarator for more than 5 minutes. However, our dear Bhaiyya in a near stroke of genius while returning back, makes higher 70's for couple of minutes before climbing down. By the time car is back to speed limit, we pass an unmarked stationary cop car. The cop flashes its lights and asks us to get off the road. Resultant, Bhaiyya gets a speeding ticket at 78mph. However, after the initial tense situation of the cop and ticket, on our way back Bhaiyya discovers that the ticket has been marked as Caucasian White. Bhaiyya was now a White brother.

These incidents have emboldened Bhaiyya to consider himself a citizen. Infact, at a 3 way stop, near my school, which is a little wierd, the right turn does not need to stop, while all others are required to stop. Even the ones going straight are required to stop. So this guy who is from a different country stops, waiting for Bhaiyya to proceed. Bhaiyya waves him to go and then turns and tells me "Immigrants I tell you" !!!!

Note: Some actual events and related sequences have been modified for this article.

Kuwaiti Landmark Elections

So I hear from BBC that Kuwait goes to the polls. So nu u might ask. Guess what this is the first time that women in Kuwait are allowed to stand for elections. That is quite archiac you would think...well let me just let the parrot out now. Its also the first time when women in Kuwait are allowed to vote!!! I was quite stunned to hear this quite frankly with Kuwait being a free port and stuff (correct me if I am wrong here).

As I delved more into the issue I was appaled to learn that Kuwait is the first country in the Gulf region to actually take this step. We are living in the 21st cenury for Christ's sake where women have gone on to become good leaders (and no I am not talking abt the Nasbandi psychotic Gandhi). I became more curious as to what the outlook of Kuwaiti women were as they take this historic step forward. I was stunned beyond belief to read quite a few women actually saying that its an extra burden on them! To come to think of it, such a bedouin outlook would evolve only with lack of proper education and a closed-box mentality.

57% of the electorate in Kuwait is of the fairer sex. That means for however long there has been a democracy in Kuwait, it has the veto only of less than half the population of the country. Pretty disturbing stats those. I also read here that a woman did't want to vote for other women as she thinks woman candidates needs to develop politically?? How does that make any sense. There is always going to be a first time and being a woman yourself you should be giving them the opportunity to lead your constituency. Isn't anti-incumbency a factor in your country? Shouldn't you try to give others a chance when the previous leaders have failed?

Its all very disturbing for me to read this when women have excelled in every sphere known to mankind and surpassed men in quite a few. Guess its hard for me to take this coming from a country with the largest democracy in the world. But its still going to be interesting to know if any woman actually gets elected!

-Balls

Are Brahmins elite or underprivileged?

I was reading articles on arguments to both sides on the Reservation Issue and I saw this article on Rediff.

This makes it look like Brahmins are really the ones who need researvations now. There is another article which mentions how the anti-brahmin mindset developed in India.

Interesting Perspective on the issue.

Argument Clinic

A dream come true ? :)

This is one of the funniest videos I have seen ... Enjoy!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen: The biggest sports event of the year is here

So the football world cup starts in exactly 15 days from now. I know most of us are eagerly waiting this event...its gonna be a cracker. I had a brief conversation with Aup yday which had to be teared down coz of bhaiyya's ignorance :-). If you go by the past WC finals, the last really interesting un was the 1986 finals. The ones after that were absolutely drab. More often than not the really interesting stuff happens in the quaters or Semis (remember Brazil v Holland in the 94 and 98 WCs?). Imagine Brazil facing Argentina in a furious tension filled final...hmmm mouth watering to say the least. How i wish that a WC final cud be as tasty as probably the best match i've ever seen....Holland v Czech in the 2004 Euro....well i wud frankly be surprised if such a big occasion produces a classic...it hardly happens in any sport.

Going thru my same old cliched favs and support blog before any big series.....lemme start first. Frankly its hard to see beyond Brazil this time too and to me they certainly are the favourites. But im gonna stick out my neck a little and say that England wud win this. As far as my support goes...its always the same...Argentina first and Holland second...hard to support any one else. Nevertheless I certainly wudnt mind Czech or Portugal or England taking the honors. Hell i wud support anyone other that those miserly Italians, miserable Germans, over-rated Spanish Armada or the proud French....and for heavens sake not Brazil...its getting too repititive. Look forward to hear ur thoughts....

-Balls

IPOD taglines

Thinking of buying a 30g IPOD but I am not able to come up with an apt tagline. I was thinking of leveraging Freaks Inc's creative quotient to pick one for my pod. Help needed..as you all know it should be a 23 character tagline.

-Aup

Tale of a TIP

A shocking incident happened today. Chintan, Rachit and I had been to watch the movie "Darna mana Hai" in Burlington, NJ and on our way back decided to have dinner at "Minella's Diner" in Wayne, PA. Throughout the drive to Minella's we were pretty apprehensive about having to deal with one particular waiter, the Puerto Rican, who has undoubtedly got to be the rudest horse's arse of a personality alive. We sunk into our alloted booth and were thinking about what to order given that underprivileged menu. No prizes for guessing here that we were waited upon by the same guy who still doesnt seem to have found a job elsewhere. Surprisingly, I was greeted by a smile this time as he took my order for coffee and pancakes.
We finished our dinner and as usual we added the TIP of 4$ on a bill of 20 on the credit card itself, since no one had change in their pockets. As we were reversing our car out of the parking lot we saw that Puerto Rican waiter (PRW) approaching our car. I lowered the windows thinking that he is coming to give us something which we might have forgotten on our table.

PRW (throwing a 25 cent coin at us) : I don't need this..keep it for yourself.

I couldn't quite fathom the reason for such a reaction. Not knowing what hit us, we parked the car again thinking about going back in to clarify the reason for such an act.
As we went back in, I pointed my finger towards the waiter calling him to justify his act, but he chickened out and went back into the kitchen leaving another waiter and two waitresses to do the job.

Aup: I don't quite understand what did the PRW mean when he threw this 25 cent coin at us. What was he thiking.
The other waiter: He must have found that 25 cent coin on your table and he came to return it to you.
Us: Wait a minute..that can't be. He rudely threw the coin at us..so he might not be just returning our coin back. His body language would have been completely different had he come out to return the change we had spilled on the table.
The other waiter: You guys never TIP so he must have thought that 25 cents left on the table was the TIP.
Us: What?? First of all we have never walked out of any restaurant in the US without leaving a 15% TIP at least if not more. And even now, we have given a TIP and you can check it if you want.
Meanwhile, the owner of the shop just walked into the conversation and played a cameo. He had brought our receipt with him and pointed out the 4$ TIP. We stood vindicated but I still could not let him go on the basis of his apparent misjudgement.
Aup: I think that TIP is gratuity given with pleasure. If you give us horrible service there is no reason why I should leave a TIP. That apart I have never walked out of this place without leaving at least a 15% tip.
The other waiter: Then I am sorry sir, there has been a misunderstanding.
Us: We dont care. TIP or no TIP this is not a way to treat your customers
The other waiter and the waitresses: This will never happen again
Us: This won't happen again if we come here again. We will make sure that we don't come to this place again.
And we just walked out of there.

I was horrified with the treatment meted out to us and it surely does affect you cos you know that you haven't done anything wrong. A jerk just comes along and spoils your day so you should not let him go without clarifying and justifying your point. Hell..I don't even know why we argued with the other waiters instead of just taking the matter to the manager because after all don't birds of a feather flock together ?. We were just discussing on our way back that its rather better to just let this thing go because there is a reason why he is a waiter and somethings should just be !

The Rare Privilege

Author's note: I had written this in the 11th standard for my college magazine, so don't critcize it too much :). Ran across it right now and thought maybe it will breathe some life into our blog.

The thing that intrigued me most on my first day at office
was that the house that was given to me as my ‘quarters’ had
an unbelievably good driveway. I was so impressed with the
asphalt that I asked my assistant as to how this was
achieved. My assistant, a tall thin man in his forties with a
droop in his shoulders that comes with age, said, "I haven’t
the slightest idea, sir. The men at the public works
department look after the necessary details." I left the
matter at that and proceeded with my work for the day.

My work day was always hectic. Get up at seven in the
morning, get ready by eight and be at office by nine. Then it
was work by the tonne -- the usual thing that comes with a
salaried position as a public servant. There was one thing
though. A chauffer-driven car used to drive me from my home
to the office. Every day, the asphalt road always used to
catch my eye, "How do they keep it so smooth?" I used to ask
myself. But then the work at the office was always so
burdening that I forgot it till the end of the day when I
came back in the car. I was puzzled -- 'Can’t the public
works department keep all the roads so fine? In that case, we
wouldn’t have road problems.'

It was Sunday morning. I was sleeping leisurely, happy in the
thought that I did not have to go to office today. I was
lazing around when suddenly, I was awakened by a sharp knock
on the door. "Come in!" I said a little irritated, cursing
whoever that was at the door for ruining my well-earned
rest. "Sorry to wake you up, sir, but today you have to go to
visit the children at the spastics society. The people at the
society are eager for a loan for the new computer wing they
are planning to set up."

'Spastics society? What spastics society? Who scheduled this
meeting?' I thought. "Okay, give me twenty minutes." Is all I
said to Mr. Basu, my assistant, "And is Rampal here?" I asked
referring to my chauffeur. I liked to call people by their
names rather than their designations. This was okay since I
was boss now but in my yesteryears, when I was a junior to
many people, my habit caused me a lot of problems! "The
chauffeur is here," said Mr. Basu. Obviously, he did not like
my way of looking at people. But he was a nice sort of a
chap, really.

In twenty minutes, I was ready and inside the car. "Zara
jaldi chalo, Rampal,(Be quick, Rampal)" I said as I got into
the car. Mr. Basu came in through the other door. Rampal only
nodded, he was not a talkative kind of character like most of
the chauffeurs I had met earlier in my life, he only spoke
when necessary, and such times were rare. But at the wheel he
was courageous to the point of being defiant. He could zip
through any kind of traffic with the grace of a panther going
through tall grass to catch its prey. I was also informed
that he was also trained in evasive driving, but I did not
believe it, after all what would a chauffeur do in Delhi’s
overcrowded streets? Well, my thoughts were now on what the
meeting was about. I did not remember anything being
mentioned. That was when Mr. Basu spoke, "The visit is just
to finalize the project and to grant the money." "Yes but
can’t someone else go?" "Well, sir, to tell you the truth, it
is good for your image if you yourself go!" Sometimes I
wondered how Mr. Basu could do everything, from managing my
day to looking after my image at the same time. Darned
asphalt road. The road was once again on my mind. 'Well,
right now, all the roads in the world can go to hell as long
as the one that takes me to the Spastics Society is without
any hitch.' The visit went smoothly. I really liked the way
the teachers of the society wanted to teach the children with
the aid of computers. The project was a very good one and I
had no problem whatsoever in sanctioning the loan.

While coming back, I was still thinking of the novel way that
the teachers had devised to improve the life of the poor
little children... The rest of the drive was uneventful. When
we were close to the driveway, on impulse, I asked Rampal to
stop. Rampal did as ordered. I got out and before the
personnel in the police car could do anything, got into the
front seat even as I ushered Rampal into the seat at the
side. I asked Rampal, "It must be a good feeling to drive on
that road?" I said pointing to the driveway. Rampal just
shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. I started the engine,
depressed the clutch, put the car in gear, stepped on the
accelerator and let the clutch go. The car lurched forward
with a screech of the tyres. I entered the driveway at full
speed, honking the horn. It felt good driving a car on the
fine asphalt road. The asphalt road, the clean, well-kept
asphalt road. I think it came as a privilege to the Prime
Minister of the country.

Another bloddy Friday

I was thinking of what I was going to do this weekend and I had sort of planned out my week's work based on what I thought I was (going to do). Firstly, I needed to fill my tax forms and then the second and inevitable one ...be on call support for my 'run of the mill' Java programmer's job. So, when Jaadya called me on Tuesday expressing a desire to spend the weekend in Bhaiyya and my company I replied in the negative. The week flew past and everything went as planned. Finally it was Friday..it was either going to be the same old meet everyone and while away time weekend or accomplish something weekend.
Started off the day pretty well..got to work pretty early and the day seemed to progress well. Had forgotten my cell phone at home and hence there was no connection with the outside world once I was in office. The day ended at a miserable 6pm in the evening and I drove out when there were very few cars in the parking lot . At around 8.30, I just checked my voicemails and the text messages I had recieved and there sure were a myriad of them. Bhaiyya had hurled innumerable abuses which I chose to ignore and there were others who had left explicit voice-mails. Just before that, I had got to know that I wouldn't be on support for the weekend and decided to call up Jaadya. Surprisingly, he picked up the fone on the first ring and I was not treated to his disgusting stuttering voicemail "Hi..this is Srikant Sub...". Seemingly Jaadya had receivd a royal snub from all that were near and dear to him and was cooling his heels in "Hell's( His final destination..if there is any semblance of justice) Kitchen", NY. Apparently Bhaiyya had a deadline to meet and was unsure of making it to Philly and he had already conveyed his thoughts to Jaadya.When I called Bhaiyya, I learnt that the promise which he had given me ( that he would repay me by making a trip to Philly) was shockingly coming true. He was on 202 North and just 25 minutes away from my place. Jaadya immediately caught the 10.30 Amtrak from New york and after a quick dinner at Bahamas Breeze, I was driving on 76 to pick him up from 30th Street Station. The scenario had changed totally..it was wild, insanely fast and I didnt know what hit me with this rapid change of fortunes. It would give "Fight Club" a run for it's money. Mike had once told me..."life gives you shit ..just take it in our stride"..I couldn't agree more. The whole week I was thinking of having a productive weekend and instead I am resting my lazy ass on my couch at 2.54 am on Saturday morning, writing this worthless blog, lending a deaf ear to Jaadya's Sci-Fi movie stories and planning to play Taboo with Bhaiyya, Jaadya and Chintan . Deja vu ! just another freakin bloddy Friday. Andy Dufrain had said that "Hope is a beautiful thing".. I hope, I pray for that elusive weekend !

We deliver on time

KK was to leave for India on Saturday and I had promised to drop him to the airport. Earlier Aup said he wudn't be able to make it that weekend. Friday evening I got a call from Aup--he was coming to Baltimore…he ofcourse had to kiss his langotia off to India.

We dropped KK to the airport 5 hrs earlier to make sure he doesn't miss his flight :) After leaving the airport I called up Balls and left a voice message saying “The package has been successfully shipped to India.”

Later we goofed around at Ash's (Aup's friend) place, had a good time. Sunday I needed a break and even though Aup's purposeful visit was served, he wouldn’t leave. I expressed (begged / pleaded) in a subtle manner (which is something missing in me--Jhadiya) with an excuse that I needed to go to work. Aup was in no mood to leave, I had to make somebody call me from work and the trick worked. Finally, Aup left for Philly.

In the meanwhile I got a voice message from Balls asking for the tracking number for the shipment to India. I emailed him about the tracking number he requested.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Customer,

As per our telephonic conversation, you requested tracking number for the package IAD->BOM. Our company, Fast Courier Company (FCC), does not provide the tracking number for the shipments. All our shipments reach the destination within 48 hrs and then we provide the proof of delivery, which you will find below.

Sincerely,
FCC
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Hi,

Reached India safely. Flight ekdum khaali tha .. soke gaaya ...

Kausum
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Balls was quite happy with the delivery and he replied

Dear FCC,
Thanks for your prompt delivery and response. Not only is your International delivery quick and on-time, it was evident to me yesterday that your domestic shipment time is impressive too. (I'm referring to the exceptionally fast "good riddance" delivery performed on heavy equipment to Philly). Thanx again for your excellent response time...i dont have to look
anywhere else now!!
A happy customer.

I forwarded the customer's response to Aup

Aup,

Baba ki Jai ho !!
Below you will find the response from one of our major clients..
Balls inc.

FCC

Aup Baba ki tisri aankh khul gayi. In a fit of anger he replied back to the courier company as follows:

FCC is very efficient. It uses the "good riddance" to ship the international delivery and then ships the "good riddance" itself forcefully. I take an oath that I will not set foot in Baltimore.

-A

I was scared of the laser beam which was about to shoot off from tisri aankh and turn me into ashes and dust. I had to appease the Baba so I offered him my sincere apologies and some free coupons…

Dear Customers and Packages,

It has come to our knowledge that some of our "heavy" shipments are not very happy with the treatment given to them. We would like to mention that our focus is on the cheapest, most reliable and efficient service to our dedicated customers. We apologize for the inconvenience caused, but please understand that its all business nothing personal. We would like to offer you a coupon for two samosas and we do appreciate your business.
Thanks You,
Regards,
FCC