Wednesday, 24 December 2008


Beads of sweat trickled down Sakpal's brows. He and three others carried the frame holding the body briskly through once-fertile barren fields. But the burden of a son's corpse can't be lightened by a few more shoulders.
None of them chanted. They probably realised the futility. Prayers hadn't gotten them rain since fifteen months now.
People here were dying either because of thirst, or by famine. Those who couldn't take the pain committed suicide.
The sweltering heat had claimed yet another victim, this time within Sakpal's family. Ganu was his only son. He was merely eight.
But Sakpal didn't cry. He only mumbled curses under his breath. He didn't fear DIVINE wrath anymore. He was certain HE wasn't listening.
Getting the wood and the shroud for the cremation was quite a struggle. Even while his son's body lay out in the open, ravaged by flies, he ran a few errands for the Sarpanch to raise money, when his pleas for a loan fell on deaf ears. But he didn't blame the Sarpanch. The Sarpanch atleast responded with a refusal.......his God, though, never said a thing.
Sakpal had dreams for his son. He had sent him to school, where kids of the 'better-offs' studied. Other poor farmers laughed at his "folly" and taunted him. But he wanted his son to have an education, and probably get a job in the city. Ganu would have taken them out of this village, to some place far away, where life would be better. Some place where God listened better. This village once had fields. Everyone produced something. And everyone was content. Not anymore. It hardly rained since the last year and a half. If at all it did rain, it would only be for an hour one day, and then nothing. The rain gods were teasing them it seemed.
His dream now lay motionless on his shoulder, dry, fly-infested, and slowly rotting. Ready to be consumed by a pyre. He felt uneasy. His head reeled. His loss was probably only now beginning to sink in.
They reached the crematorium grounds. As directed by the priest, the wood was arranged.
The body was laid on top of the heap.
Prayers were offered.
The corpse was walked around.
The pot was dropped.
The torch was lit.
But then it happened.
Sakpal wailed out in anger.
The others joined him in angry protest.
Because, as if to add insult to injury and deny a dead child his due passage to a 'better life'....
......IT RAINED!
P.S. - This story won the 5th prize at "The Rain Drenched Contest" on The Writers' Lounge Blog. It featured in the top 6 posts, hence winning a "Super Six" badge :) Here it is.

Thursday, 27 November 2008


I've won an Award!! :)

Pratibha gave me this award. Must say it came as a pleasant surprise. Its great to win a new fan in just 2 readings :)

Thanks a tonne Gal!

Now...a lil bit about the award : (verbatim from Pratibha's blog...sorry for not being creative in that aspect :P)

This is the message for the award. It is to be passed to 8 other bloggers for the sentiments below. This award states that:

This blog invests and believes the PROXIMITY- nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers.

Here is my list of people to pass this award -

To Pratibha...not just returning the favour, but also for being a multi-talented blogger. You've got to see her Drawings blog.

To SSNAB...for being the first person to introduce me to blogging. :)
And not to forget her writing talent and her creativity in making things out of junk.

To Sudha...for being a loyal reader and following up on my blog without me having to bombard her with reminders :P, and for making time out of her hectic MBA schedule to blog.

To Kriti...for her dark brooding posts, which I simply love. (much like her swinging moods :P)

To Kushal...for poems in which he wonderfully plays with words, even though most of the times I hardly understand what they mean :P

To Marj...for posts that I can almost always relate to (especially those dealing with diets :P)

To Pranay...for being there to help whenever I need help with blogging tips. By the way, the banner that you see on this blog is courtesy Pranay :) Cheers Dude!

To Tara..for being my blogospehere sis :)

Actually, I'd like to give it to a lot more people, like Rashi, Nishi, Teena, Radhika, Alaena, Alisha, Shane, Pooja, etc. Dang! Wonder why most of em are gals. ;)

So people, go ahead and find your awardees :)

Thursday, 20 November 2008


Gary was tired. After a long, tiring, fifteen hours at work, and a more tiring two hours of travelling to and from work in the crowded Mumbai trains, he ought to have hit the sack as soon as he reached home. But he didn't want to miss the special moment. He was still typing away on his laptop, catching up with long-lost pals, and people he would've otherwise not talked to had he met them face-to-face. The Internet has this great power of making unknowns the thickest and most intimate of friends, so what if only for as long as they remained logged in. He was shuttling between four windows now. He looked at the clock on the wall. Forty minutes to midnight, and he wasn't ready yet.

He changed his messenger status from "Available" to "Be Right Back". Pulling out his poem book and a pencil, and closed his eyes. Surely he'd be able to write a few pages on her. It was their 2nd Anniversary after all. And break-up anniversaries could make any heartbroken die-hard romantic pour out his words on paper.

But he couldn't. The first time round, he managed a couple of lines, and couldn't go further. He struck them off and started again. This time, the 4 lines that appeared seemed too cheesy and tacky. He struck these off too. A third attempt gave him utter crap, even by junior kindergarten standards.

He shuddered at what was happening. How could this be?Just a couple of months ago, he could create magic with words. Just a passing thought about Lavanya made him a tragic poetic genius, with grief and pain flowing seamlessly from his mind through his pen. He could write both in English and in Hindi. Friends admired him for his writing style, and always wondered how a nerdy strict academic suddenly developed this talent from. Maybe they didn't know that pain can create wonders.

But today, nothing seemed to happen. He always seemed to write well when he was in a brooding mood, and he was in such a mood even now. And yet, he couldn't write. Was it because work had preoccupied his mind? Or was it because he didn't love her anymore? It was true that he had developed feelings for Meryl, a simple, yet pretty co-worker at office, in the past few weeks. But he wasn't really sure about her. He wasn't really sure that he wanted to risk breaking his heart again. But he was damn sure that even Meryl couldn't make him completely forget Lavanya. She was his first love, and he knew he somehow still loved her and silently longed for her. She probably knew it too. So why then wasn't he able to express himself on paper today?

He grabbed his cellphone and searched for Lavanya's pic in his Images folder. He found it and took a close look at the once-familiar face. She somehow wasn't looking as sweet as she did a few months back though. He tried hard to keep it in focus for a minute. He couldn't. He scrolled down to look for Meryl's picture. He opened it...then he zoomed in for a better view at her features. It brought a wide smile on his face. He stared at it for a few seconds...the seconds turned to two minutes...3...4....and then for some reason the smile disappeared. He went back to Lavanya's picture. He stared at it hard. It seemed to have come to life all of a sudden.

The memories they shared till 2 years back flashed right in front of him. He remembered the way they met. How both of them didn't talk to each other for 3 days the first time they met at they slowly became friends... how they moved on to be best friends from just they called and messaged each other all they needed each other's help even in needless they fell in they made promises to each they wrote down names for their future they planned to have their wedding...

And then how one day she suddenly broke all she messaged him to break he cried all night for her message suddenly turned up one day informing him about her marriage to some family friend of hers.
Gary's eyes now swelled up. He tore out a page from his poem book. He picked up his pencil and scriblled out a two-page poem in absolutely no time. He loved what he read. He basked in the glory of his tragic expression.

And then, convinced that this was the best poem he had ever written, he did the unthinkable.

Instead of putting it up on his blog....
...HE BURNT IT!!!.....
.......................................................and he moved on!!

Wednesday, 5 November 2008


Yuvi had lost his patience by now. He took a long, hard look at the shopping list in his hand. This was his third visit to the ‘shaving kit and accessories’ section in the past 20 minutes. The pretty young thing managing the section was beginning to look at him suspiciously, probably thinking he was trying to act fresh with her. Unfortunately for him, she was quite pretty. The last two times he had visited this section, he had dared to smile sheepishly at her. She did reluctantly return the gesture then, but this time she certainly didn’t look the least amused. This time, he swore he saw her lips whisper “idiot”. He certainly did feel like one. In his mind, he cursed his roomies.

Hostel shopping lists are usually like that – without a head or a tail, totally unorganized, with just names of roomies and lists of objects of desire (read shopping items) under the names. No one really cared about organizing the list. All they were concerned with was getting their names and items on paper. Planning the mission was the headache of the person who was doing the shopping. This week’s misfortune fell on Yuvi’s head – it was his turn to do the shopping this week, for himself and 4 other roomies. He had unwittingly decided to follow the list name-wise, meaning that he’d finish Ashu’s list first, then Tarun’s, followed by Abby’s, Shiva’s, and then his own. He was on Abby’s list now, and since Abby had asked for razors and shaving foam, just like Ashu and Tarun did, he was visiting this section of the store for a third time. Now that good sense finally hit him, he checked Shiva’s list to see if he needed the same. A scan of the list revealed that he didn’t. Yuvi swore under his breath again.

Quickly picking up the needful and walking away from this section, he saw a face that looked quite familiar from a distance. She was standing at the billing counter. Her face was sweet. Her skin was smooth and dusky, and without any blemish. Her fringed hair fell beautifully over her face, and though they covered the eyes, the long eyelashes crept out from underneath. Her lips were plump and as pink as a rose. His heart skipped a beat. He tried his best to walk towards her without letting her notice. He got close enough to have a better look of her face, just to make sure it was her. He stopped in his tracks. It was Khushboo alright. Their past flashed right in front of his eyes.

He remembered how they met on the first day of college, both being victims of ragging. She had to sing while he danced. She had done a decent job, he didn’t. The raggers had hated her performance, but they loved his. Raggers somehow love things that make them laugh, he had learnt then. Anyway, after the performance, he and Khushboo realized they were in the same class. They sat on the same bench that day, and thereafter too. They attended lectures together, bunked together, visited the cafeteria together, did their assignments together.

And then one fine day both magically decided that they wanted to spend their lives together as well. The whole college knew that they were inseparable. Even their parents had a doubt. Yuvi’s roomies never let him sleep at night. They kept pestering and teasing him about her. But he was happy. So was she. The good thing was that their academics were never affected. Both did quite well. Both wanted to be Software Engineers, and both were on the right track. Everything was going good and steady.

But like they say, all good things come to an end. The end came here too, and it was quite bitter. In the last year of their degree course, they weren’t able to spend enough time with each other. Both felt themselves being neglected. Words like “Love ya baby” and “Lets go out” were replaced by “You could’ve called first”, “Why should I always be the one to wish you first?”, “Is it only you who can be busy?”, and the likes. The cracks developed slowly but surely. It was there for everyone to see. Barely a month before their final examination, they broke off. They refused to even look each other in the face, leave alone call or SMS each other. But like most lovers, Yuvi couldn’t accept the fact that he had broken-off with his love of 3 years so easily. He pined for her to come back. He missed the moments they had spent together. But no, he never tried to go up and try speaking to her, or sort out matters. A whole lot of ego, yes, but another reason was that he wanted to make sure that she missed him too. He wanted her to make the first move. But she didn’t make the first move. Neither did he.

This was almost a year ago. And here she was right now, just a few feet away from him. He felt his heart was beating fast as he wondered whether he should speak to her. “Will she respond? Will she talk to me? Will she be happy?.” A million thoughts rushed to his head like waves during high tide. Finally deciding to strike a conversation, or atleast make his presence known, he tiptoed towards the billing counter.

He positioned himself a metre away from her, right in front of her face, hoping she’d notice.

She turned towards him.

He let out a faint smile, saying nothing.

She stared at him for a few seconds.

The look was one of shock, he sensed.

And then, she looked through him, pretending as if she didn’t notice. She paid her bill, and without turning back, she walked away.

And he was heartbroken again. For the next couple of weeks at least. And then he moved on.

He regretted trying to speak to her and vowed never to do it again.

Ever wondered how strange it is that you and a significant other were once strangers…and then you met, became part of each others’ lives…and then one day you part ways and are strangers again..strangers meet to become one, and then break apart to become strangers again? And sometimes you’re reluctant to try making things better, but when you finally try, you’re left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and regret ever having tried!

Friday, 29 August 2008


Ok, I'm not able to post more often a holiday today, in protest of the attack on Christians in Orissa. Wanted my next post to be a short story or a poem, but wasn't happy or depressed enough for those. And just when I lost hope, my friend Suzan pops up online, and voila!! I have an idea!!! Thanx buddy! [:)]

Ok, here's what I ended up with...I've titled it "Salvation Inverted"

Do the math yourselves! :d

Sunday, 17 August 2008


Hey y'all...posting after ages...MMS(MBA)lectures have finally begun. Joined XIMR, which is in the highly esteemed St.Xavier's campus in Fort, Mumbai. And it also is one of the coolest(if not the coolest) colleges in Mumbai...for the B.A and B.Sc stream students atleast. We MBA students aren't exactly in Paradise, you see. Assignments, presentations, more assignments, more presentations, compulsory library hours and computer centre hours, makes up at least 25 hours of our days. In between juggling hard-on-the-mind assignments and presentations and hoping for an early leave after lectures, we get lunch and tea breaks, which we spend in the Xavier's cafeteria. Nice place, sorta keeps you in touch with the latest fashion trends, or lemme say reminds us of how dinosaur-like (100% formal) our dressing style has become. And oh...not to forget the lingo! Great place to catch up on that, or maybe remind us of how fortunate we are in this aspect.

This one happened 3 weeks ago...never quite found the time to type it out earlier, just came back from a 2-day workshop at Khandala - we had fun...mebbe I'll tell you about it on a later post - and made time to push in a post.

I'm standing at the Chaat-Corner counter, during our lunch break. I'm alone because my sis is on her phone all day, and this was the first day of the course, and I don't know anyone else. I'm waiting for my plate of fresh(read stale) delhi chaat. The place is crowded with half the human race. As I spend the waiting period glancing at the greenery (non-human :P) around, a young gum-chewing zombie comes painfully slowly towards the counter. The zombie does a little hip-hopper style strut and spin move while approaching.....I bet he could've gotten to the counter a decade ago, crawling on one knee. He pushed back his glam-rocker wavy hair and his eyes rummaged through the goodies on display. Finally focusing his eyes on something that looked like a munchy, he opened his mouth.

Hip Hopper (holding up a lollypop) - Yaaa Bugga! How much fuh dis man?

Attendant - Kya saab?

Hip Hopper - HOLY SHIT DAWG! How much....kitna..kitna paisa?

Attendant - Paanch Rupiya.

Hip Hopper - WOAAHH!! FIVE F***ING BUCKS???? Whatcha Gonna do with all that loot bozo??

Attendant - HAIN?????

Hip Hopper (waving a candy bar) - And how much fuh dis??

Attendant (making an effort to comprehend) - 3 Rupeej (sic).

Hip Hopper - JEEZUS!!! 3 bucks huh? Fine, I'll take it!!

He pays the justifiably confused chap and walks struts like a hip-hopper once again, this time towards a table, around which his chums are seated. With a disgruntled look and a disapproving nod of his head, and a sweep of his hair off his eyes, he opens his oral orifice once again this time just to say-

"Chya-aaila!! Yede logon ko English aataa-hich nahi hai!!!!!"

Friday, 18 July 2008


Haven't posted since a long time. Tax returns for the whole family are keeping me busy in the daytime. I do stay on orkut and gmail almost all day, but its only at night that I'm actually able to chat well.

I've loved doodling since a long time. Doodling? Well, the IMVIRONMENT on Yahoo Messenger that allows you to draw and stuff. Some friends think I'm a moron [:P] for enjoying it. But then, a few friends share my passion..ok ok, they're not exactly passionate about it, but they're sporting enough to play along and join in the fun. A couple of em are serious doodlers too :)

Here's what I drew while chatting last night, with a friend of mine, Susan. Well actually, I drew it while she was away for some time, attending to a customer.

When she came back, we got a lil more innovative and gave "Sherkhan" a coll pair of Gogs. And we even gave the poor Khan a new name. "Kool Kat"! :)

And oh, there's more...I and a friend once had done something like drawing a vertical line through the centre of the page, each of us having one half, and venting our frustrations on each of our side of the line of control.:P "Abstract art" she called it. At the end of the session we'd give our individual drawing a title. So I and Susan did the same, and we came up with this.

She titled her side (the left is hers) "Intezaar"

And I titled mine....

Hell, no..I asked her to guess what I had named mine. She said the guy looked dejected, and so maybe the title was "Dejection"

I actually christened it "RELIEF".


Doesn't the guy look like he's relieving himself on some street in Mumbai? :P

Saturday, 5 July 2008


Well, I've finally decided to change my blog url to one which is perceived more serious. I remember I was introduced to blogging in May last year by my netpal SSNAB, and I thought I'd just give it a try. I never really thought I'd become really serious abt it, so I'd used my default gmail id "crissdude" as my blog url. DREAM ARENA was what I had named my first baby, maybe because I'm a fan of Dream Theater. But one year down the line, and I'm still a blogger. I've grown older, but my blog hadn't evolved. Guess its time she finally did!

So now, I bid farewell to DREAM ARENA. She had been an obedient child, and always took all my crap, no questions asked. I know I'll miss her. But I welcome her new avatar as a young lady. She's now "SCRIPTED IN SANITY"

I know that banner reads as Scripted INSANITY, but thats just a facade. A sinister plot, a make-believe. We're both pretty much Sane :d

Pranay helped a lot in designing the banner, and with changing the background. Thanx a ton dude :)

FAREWELL DREAM ARENA. Hope your new life as "SCRIPTED IN SANITY" does better than your young kiddish avatar...

Only time will tell. Oh no, even comments will :P

Monday, 30 June 2008


Been a while since I posted something. Sameera had posted a short romantic story named Dumbstruck, and had invited readers to participate in a contest to write a sequel to it. I had put up this news on my community BLOGGERATTI's forum, but wasn't very keen on doing it myself, since I never considered myself a Mills N Boons expert :P. A member named Pooja got busy with it though, and had a draft ready within 3 days of me informing her about it. The draft was amazing, but she couldn't quite finish it. She wasn't able to find an apt ending. So she sent me the draft, and I got thinking too. So after about a dozen times of sending, editing and resending drafts on either side, we jointly came out with a seemingly perfect sequel.

Here it is

Jointly written by *Pooja* and *Christopher*

There were a million questions in his mind about a thousand emotions dancing around his heart… What should he do? Should he just leave the stray thought of approaching her alone? It wouldn't make a difference, she didn't even hear him. But what was in him that begged to differ?!? Why did he still want to talk to her?

Her favorite song was playing on her I-pod "Abhi na jaao chod kar". She had always loved this song but today it sounded so different, she could have sworn Rafi and Lata were just teasing her now. It was only a few minutes later she realized that it was a different aroma that had the effect, she was wondering what could it be. She turned her head to her right, she knew there was some man sitting beside her. She knew she had never met him before, but yet, she knew his scent… she didn't know what to make of it.

"Sitaare jhilmila uthe
Sitaare jhilmila uthe
Chirag jagmaga uthe
Bas ab na mujhko tokna
Bas ab na mujhko tokna
Na badhke raah rokna"

Something was wrong and she had to get to the bottom of it… "Excuse me…?", she said in the most hesitant tone. Then, realizing she had her ear plugs on, she plucked them out and waited for the person sitting next to her to say something. He stammered for a second more, then when she let out a knowing smile, as if, she knew exactly what was going on inside his head, all the stammering stopped, he knew everything as if he had already been through this scene… like Déjà Vu!

"I am Gerald…"

"Im Brinda… have we met before? I seem to have recognized you…", it was her turn to stammer now. Her eyes now somehow seemed to meet his.

He sat still,gazing deep into her eyes, hoping they'd stop groping and hold still, finding a spot that he thought he recognized… there it was… but still they kept moving hesitantly… She was so beautiful, his heart skipped a beat every nano second that her eyes looked directly into his.

"Hello?" she called out gently.

"Ermm..ohh..yeah I guess we have, so how have you been?", he asked, still gazing deeply into her eyes. It was then that it happened, suddenly as if by a miracle she looked into his eyes and held still.

"I've been good", she struggled with her words, wondering if he really meant what she said, "So where are u heading?"

He suddenly realized he was in a bus and had to go somewhere. He looked out of the window, cursing under his breath, his stop was almost there. 'What the heck, I can wait for 2 more stops, I can walk back', he thought.

"Well, two stops from here, dear...what about you?", he said, hoping they'd have more time together.

"Well I...uh…I'm...",she cursed herself for being such a ninny, how could she forget where she was heading! "I'm going a little ahead", she said finally settling on an answer she thought was convincing.

Thinking of what else they could talk about he glanced at her. She was smiling, this made him relax a bit. He let out a sigh looking at her and lay his head on the headrest, if there was anything he knew was incandescent, it was this beautiful creature sitting next to him on a BEST bus seat. He cursed his fate again, he may never meet her again!

He started humming from a song he once loved a lot, but whose words he now barely remembered

"Adhuri aas chhodh ke
Adhuri pyaas chhodh ke
Jo hmm hmm hmm hmm jaayogi
To kis tarah nibhaayogi
hmm hmm hmm
Jo humko aazmaayenge
Hmm hmm hmm..."

She turned her face toward him, a little amused but still smiling.

"You're not gettin down?" she teased him…"I think your stop has come, no"?

He looked at her, a little demoralised and very upset.

No answer.

She waited for an answer....was he still there? "Hello?"

"Oh..oh yea..I was bag...well see you then"

She said nothing but was slightly hurt that he wasn't waiting, she held out her hand, "Nice meeting you, Gerald!"

"Oh yea..same here...bye...Brr..inda.."

She thought she felt his scent fade away..and heard him stepping away from her...the bus started moving again..

Then she turned her head as if in submission to fate…

She hummed a part from the song she was listening a few minutes back

"Bura na maano baat ka
Yeh pyar hai gila nahi
Haan yehi kahoge tum sada
Ke dil abhi bhara nahi"

The very next moment she felt someone sit next to her… A voice now familiar sang

"Haan dil abhi bhara nahi
Nahi nahi nahi nahi"

There was laughter, there was a joy that would fill any cheerless heart with hopes and dreams…

On that day of no apparent consequence, two people had the bus ride they would remember for the rest of their lives.


And oh, eventually Sameera got 5 entries, but she didn't name a winner. She liked all of em [:d]
You can check em out on her blog.

Got a medal of sorts from Sameera. Chk this out.

Monday, 16 June 2008


Im broke for ideas. Haven't posted since ages it seems. So what do you do when there's no ray of Hope. You do a tag[:P]

Jan(Zenny) has passed on a tag to me. A friend made me upset again, and went offline to go reading. So here I am, taking time off to fulfill my tag vows to Jan. :P. Here we go....

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on a random page and find random line.
"Not today...I think I have fallen OUT OF LOVE with it".
What crap!! I love ma blog :x

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.
...and yays! You're the new traffic policeman...Hell, what was I supposed to do here? :O

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Harman Baweja's dance in a song from Love Story 2050?

4. Without looking, guess what time it is?
Time to post something on my blog!! :D

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
11pm, 00 minutes, 24 seconds.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Some crappy overdramatic dialogue from a 'news' capsule on India TV...wonder why mom watches it. I wanna murder a certain Rajat Sharma right now:P

7. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Jan's post! :d

9. What are you wearing?
Grey shorts, and a towel draped around my shoulders.:P

10. Did you dream last night?
I have no clue..I never remember my dreams, until I have a deja vu experience.

11.When did you last laugh?
Today evening, when I and my friends Rolf and Wilson pulled another friend, Sunil's leg.He's getting married soon,if you're wondering why him. :P

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Pink paint and 2 mosquitoes.There's gonna be bloodshed :P

13. What do u think of this quiz?
Filler for my blog.:P

14. Which was the last film u saw?
Khuda Ke Liye!!SUPERB...except for a few ham actors :d. SUPERB Music

15. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
Lotsa food...........and an insurance policy :P.

16. Tell me something about you that I dunno.
I'm ambidextrous.

17. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Nothing...I wouldn't have been here right now if anything had to be different.

18. Do you like to dance?
Not right now.Mebbe when I learn to dance and stop thinking that I'd look like an ostrich doing a cabaret on one leg :P

19. George Bush
What about him?

20. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

21. Would you ever consider living abroad?
Depends...I don't wanna live out of India alone.

22.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Now do you believe?

23. People who may do this memo in their journal.
Anyone who hasn't posted since ages. Salvation is here people!!!! :P


Sunday, 1 June 2008


'A sentence worded or expressed so as to seek information or an answer' - That's how the Oxford Dictionary describes a QUESTION.

Everybody has questions. Everybody asks questions. Everybody needs to and ought to ask questions. How else would you get answers?

But have you ever faced a situation, where you feel you've had enough of questions, and that you can't take 'em anymore? Vague questions, mundane questions, moronic questions? Have they made you feel like pulling each strand of hair that rest on your scalp, or mebbe pull out the other guy's hair in case you're bald? [:p]

Yup, we come across a certain species of people who ask really stupid questions, questions that would put Indian TV journalists to shame. What do you do when faced with such a calamity?

Here's a list of things you could try...of course at your own risk:-

  1. As soon as his/her question pops out of his/her oral orifice, pretend you didn't hear what was said. Instead, pretend that you heard some kinda sound from elsewhere. Say,"Did you hear that?"

  2. Pause for a while, look skywards, scratch your chin and your temple for a few seconds, and then raise your arms in the air saying, "Pass, I give up. So what's the answer?"

  3. Pretend that you got a call on your cell on silent/vibration mode. Excuse yourself.

  4. Start an impromptu speech about Darwin's theory of evolution, proceed to the Big Bang Theory, and then to the Law Of Diminishing Returns. Pause and say, "Oh well, what was your question again?". If he/she doesn't get the hint and reverts to the same dumb question, repeat the cycle.

  5. Suddenly fall off your chair and violently thrust youself up and down, and sideways - in short, give an Oscar-Winning performance of an epilectic having his bout of fits. After 5 minutes or so, get up and tell him/her that silly questions trigger epilectic attacks in you. By the way, make sure you slap him/her hard or give a Rooney-esque kick in the Tundra region a couple of times, lest they begin to enjoy your little jig on the floor.

  6. This is known as the K-Serial reaction. Can be performed only when you're not looking straight into the dumbo's face when the question is hurled at you. As soon as the question falls on your tired ears, turn in his/her direction in slow motion "3 times", with big eyes and clenched teeth - yeah the same way they do it on K-serials. Watch any saas-bahu soap for inspiration, happens all the time. If you feel like slapping the moron, do that 3 times too.

  7. Pull out your diary and ask the moron to repeat the question. Jot it down, and promise to get back after the 3rd Vatican council.

  8. Ask the moron in a hushed tone to come to your room at midnight. When he/she comes at the fixed time, close the door shut, turn off the lights, use a chalk to draw an ouija board on the floor, light a few candles and ask him/her to concentrate. Start singing the Kolkata Night Riders' theme song to summon 'the spirits' (the KKR's theme sounds pretty much like a voodoo song :P). And then tell the fool to repeat the question.....if he/she hasn't run out yet. For better results, sing the DHAKKA BAKKA LUKKA (or whatever) song from the film YuVA.

  9. The easiest thing to do, and the last resort - Stroke the dumbass' hair lovingly, smile and gently hum "TAARE ZAMEEN PARRRRRRRRRR"

Friday, 23 May 2008


16th May was supposed to be the First Anniversary of my blog. And I din't even notice. Dang.I missed out on celebrations.

Anyways. Here's wishing my DREAM ARENA A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Belated. [:(]



Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap :)

Monday, 19 May 2008


Marj,asked me to tag myself on this post...cha, aajkal blogging mein bhi buffet system aur self service chal raha hai [:p] It's called 'The Musical Tag'! It goes like this:(sorry for being so formal with the explanation, its apparently a clause in the Musical Tag protocol :p)

Put your MP3 player/Media player on shuffle.
For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
You must write the name of the song no matter what.

So lets begin. Tried this twice before but got weird answers. Trying again coz I haven't posted in ages....Lets go...

1. If someone says "Is This Okay?" you say?

Euphoria - Kabhi Aana Tu Meri Galli..
Hoolki??..Hehe, I guess I can't stand doubting Thomases.

2. What would best describe your personality?
Fuel - In My Hands...
The song goes this this way.."Don't fall away, and leave me to myself..."..Am I talking to myself? Am I a Schizo? [:o]

3. What do u like in a guy/girl?
Bombay Vikings - Kahaan Ho Tum
Yeah, where is she? I dunno what i like in her, and she's nowhere in sight...sigh

4. How do u feel today?
Ac/Dc - Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

5. Whats your life's purpose?
Anwar -Toh Se Naina Laage
Eeks..there goes my career.

6. What is your motto?
Ghulam Ali - Chupke Chupke Raat Din Aansoo Bahaana Yaad Hai
:| Im gonna be a devdas for life!!!!!

7. What do your friends think of you?
Slipknot - Before I Forget
I am a world before I am a man
I was a creature before I could stand
I will remember before I forget
I'm a monster!

8. What do u think of your parents?
Dus Kahaniyan - Jaaniye
There we go..its beginning to go haywire [:p]
Ok one line goes.."Khud se praya karle...apna humsaaya karle"
Ok so they want me to be less self-occupied and spend more time with em. Aint I ana analysing genius? [:p]

9. What do u think about very often?
Jannat - Lambi Judaai

10. What is 2+2??
Nazia Hassan - Aankhein Milane Waale
Ok, ankhein milana would mean 2 eyes meet 2..that makes it 4. Hah!

11. What do u think of your best friend?
Kailash Kher - Teri Deewani.
Arre no...its a joke!

12. What do you think of the person U like?
Aslam and Shibani Kashyap - Ho Gayi Hai Mohabbat Tumse

13. What is your life story?
Aaroh - Pyar Ka Jaal
Naw, not again!

14. What do u want to be when you grow up?
Billy Idol - Rebell Yell
Haha, how I wish I could do that.

15. What do think when you see the person u like?
Noori - Kuttey Te Tho Utthe
Lol, am I still so angry? [:p]

16. What do ur parents think of you?
Fuzon - Aankhon Ke Saagar
Lakt-E-Jigar, Aankhon Ke Chiraag would've sounded better. Oh well, nevermind.

17. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Alanis Morissette - One Hand In My Pocket
Haha, itni jaldbazzi? Itna desperation? [:p]

18. What will they play at ur funeral?
Green Day - Minority
Woah! I'll have punks at my funeral [:p]

19. What is your hobby/Interest?
Judas Priest - Hell Bent For Leather
Dang, I wish I knew how to bike.

20. What is your biggest secret?
Jab We Met - Aao Meelon Chalein
Yup, I do walk a lot. But that's not a secret to people I know

21. What do u think of ur friends?
Jannat - Zara Si Dil Mein De Jagah Tu
Yup, I'd like to remain in my friends' hearts

22. What would u post this as?
Disturbed - Down With The Sickness [:p]

That was all.
Chalo match khatam paisa hazam! [:P]

Thursday, 10 April 2008


Sid looked at his watch. It was only 7 pm. Ann hadn't come back from her mom's yet. The old hen in their backyard was her usual cranky self, clucking away to her own mad glory.
Sid was bored. He was terribly hungry. The clucks were making him irritable too. He was getting impatient. T'was the season of LENT, and they'd been having nothing but DAL-MEAL COMBOS for the past 2 weeks. Seemed like 2 decades. Rice and DAL-Fry...Roti and DAL Makhni...Fried Rice and DAL.

DAL...DAL...DAL...BAH!!! He wasn't gonna have dal today, NO WAY! He couldn't wait 3 more weeks for the annual post LENT-Easter "Chicken-Massacre" to take place. He wanted it NOW! Anne would take an hour or 2 to get back. Now was his chance! The clucks continued outside. The neighbours yelled to complain like they used to everyday.

He had the perfect alibis to get rid of it. He went to the kitchen and brought out his Samurai-edge chopper. But something made him stop in his tracks. 'What would I say to Annie? First of all, it was Lent. Wouldn't it mess up their LENTEN vows? Also, the hen might have been a little too cranky..she might have pecked at them a couple of dozen times this week...the neighbours might be as irritated as they were of her DECIBEL-CRASHING fortitude. But those weren't good enough reasons to justify this act. How could he do that? Would it be right to do it simply because he didn't wanna have DAL again? Should he go ahead..that too to a hen from his own HOME's......

He stopped thinking.

A new thought came to his mind.

It was a EUREKA moment.

HE confidently went out, brandishing his chopper, seeking his soon-to-be dinner table centre-piece.

Two hours later, Annie opened the door with her set of keys.

"Honey, I'm home."

"Hey babes,go have a quick wash. I've prepared something special for dinner tonight."

"Oh really?", she said in jest. "Gimme 10 minutes."

The shower and 'under-dressing' took about 20 minutes. Enough time for Sid to set the table. 2 plates, cutlery, a plate of rice, a tray with salad, a bowl of DAL, and a HUGE platter, with an even BIGGER steel cover over it, rested on the table.

"So whats special?", she asked as he helped her sit.

"See for yourself."

"Oh wow! Rice that I cooked, Dal that again I cooked, salad, and...", she lifted the cover and suddenly her eyes were bloodshot seeing the chicken roast. "SIDNEY!!!...WHAT THE..."

"Relax Honey"






"BABY..Its our hen...the hen from our backyard. OUR HOME HEN" He now expected her to have the same EUREKA moment that he had 2 hours ago.

She stopped yelling.

The sane thought came over her mind.

She smiled at him.

They had their feast.

There was no guilt.

They both knew that their LENTEN promise to only have DAL was still intact!!







Haha, wanted to write a weird story. Especially after reading a blog which has brilliant weird stories. Check out

I'm just a beginner, please don't hate me just yet! [:P]

Monday, 31 March 2008


Bought a Samsung E250 as soon as I got my first salary on Jan 1. It cost me exactly 5450 bucks. It had all the features I wanted in a cellphone, a camera with zoom, an MP3 player, and FM radio. I even got a 1 GB memory card free with the ebony-black beauty. It was a sliding phone, which I was initially not happy about, but eventually thought it added to its cool factor. It even had a thief-tracking facility, wherein if anyone stole your phone, the number of the new SIM inserted would be flashed to 2 of your confidantes whom you'd register while activating the feature. All of this for JUST Rs.5450/-!! I had to buy it!!!

And I HAD to lose it too. Two weeks back I missed my Company Transport and had to take public transport. Tried to board a MORE-THAN-OVERCROWDED train at Andheri Station to go to Goregaon, which is just 2 stations away. I had let 2 trains go before this since they were MORE-THAN-OVERCROWDED and could'nt afford to miss this one and reach office late. Kept it in my left pant pocket, which was quite deep. Even packed in 2 handkerchiefs deep into my pocket, right over the phone for safety reasons. But wonder of wonders, in a matter of JUST 2 stations, my phone vanished by the time i got off at my destination and checked my pockets. And no, I did'nt lose either of my kerchiefs as complementary gifts to the B@#@#@D. They were still in my pocket...deep down in my pocket where I had thrust them securely. I bet even DAVID BLAINE would'nt be able to pull off a trick like that. But I was'nt that worried. After all it had the mobile tracking system. All I had to do was go to the railway police station just outside Goregaon Railway Station and file an FIR. After all the case was simple. In a few hours I'd have the scoundrel's number, and all the police would have to do is to get his name and location from his telephone service provider and nab him.

But no! Its been 2 antagonisingly long weeks and I'm yet to get my cell!
Went to Goregaon Railway Police Station. The 'Respectable' Inspector (cliched title borrowed from Bollywood) told me to go to Borivali Railway Station since it fell under their jurisdiction, to file the FIR. Only after I insisted did he grumblingly give me his register to jot down my name and adress and the details of the lost cell. The next morning, after an hour of "YOU'RE SUCH AN IRRESPONSIBLE USELESS FAILURE AND LOSER" motivational speech from my dad, I went to Borivali Station with the Purchase bill and the Box in which the Cell was packed. With the help of a TTE who was my cousin's friend(really helpful guy, Mr Sameer Jamdar, thanks a lot Sir), I was able to speak to the head of the police station(I think I'll call him an Inspector too). The Inspector told me to write an application and attach copies of the bill, which I did. He assured me that in a couple of days' time, the culprit would be nabbed, and I'd have my cell phone.

I left the Station, proud that I purchased such a wonderful cellfone, that I would never ever worry about losing. I thought a 2 day wait was pretty kewl. I'd wait for 48 hours....

14 days have passed.....

I'm still waiting........

Saturday, 8 March 2008


हमसफ़र हमें अपनी राह पर हाथों मे हाथ लेकर चलता है,
तन्हाई हमें अपनी राह खुद बनाना सिखाती है।

हमसफ़र सोच से सोच मिल लेता है,

तन्हाई हमें खुद सोचने को मजबूर करती है।

हमसफ़र की बाहों में सपने सच होते नज़र आते हैं,

तन्हाई के घेरे में हम सपने देखते ज़रूर हैं,
लेकिन हम यह भी जान लेते हैं कि वो शायद कभी सच नहीं होंगे।

हमसफ़र ज़िंदगी के हर कदम पर साथ देने की कसमें खाता हैं,

लेकिन कसमें तोडी भी जा सकती हैं।
तन्हाई कोई वादा नहीं करती,

लेकिन सबके छोड़ देने पर वही साथ देती है।

हमसफ़र साथ छोड़ता है तो हम सब कुछ खो देते हैं,
पर तन्हाई हमें छोड़ देते वक्त वह सब कुछ दे देती है,
जिनकी हम तमन्ना करते थे।

तो क्या तन्हाई ही हमारा सच्चा हमसफ़र है?

Humsafar Humein Apni Raah Par Haathon Mein Haath Lekar Chalta Hai
Tanhai Humein Apni Raah Khud Banaana Sikhati Hai

Humsafar Soch Se Soch Mila Leta Hai
Tanhai Humein Khud Sochne Ko Majboor Karti Hai

Humsafar Ke Baahon Mein Sapne Sach Hote Nazar Aate Hain
Tanhai Ke Ghere Mein Hum Sapne Dekhte Zaroor Hain,
Lekin Hum Yeh Bhi Jaan Lete Hain Ki Woh Shayad Kabhi Sach Nahin Honge

Humsafar Zindagi Ke Har Kadam Par Saath Dene Ki Kasmein Khaata Hai
Lekin Kasmein Todi Bhi Jaa Sakti Hain
Tanhai Koi Vaada Nahin Karti
Lekin Sabke Chhod Dene Par Wahi Saath Deti Hai

Humsafar Saath Chhodta Hai Toh Hum Sab Kuch Kho Dete Hain
Par Tanhai Humein Chhod Dete Waqt Woh Sab Kuch De Deti Hai
Jinki Hum Tamanna Karte The

Toh Kya Tanhai Hi Hamara Sacha Humsafar Hai?

Saturday, 1 March 2008


My senior colleague sent me a beautiful message through SMS. It goes this way:-

The Perfect Description Of Trust -



Thanks Chirag Joshi

Sunday, 17 February 2008

लौट आओ LAUT AAO

बरसों बीत चुके, जबसे हमें छोड़ गई तुम,
हम हँसना भूल गए हैं, यूँ तनहा छोड़ गई तुम,
सदाएँ तेरी सुनके, दीदार तेरा पाके,
कुछ अरसे बीत चुके हैं, याद आती अब भी हो तुम।

भुला न पाऊं तुमको, मेरी यादों में न आओ,
आना ही गर है तुमको, तों ज़िंदगी में आओ।

जब जाना ही था तुमको, तों दिल को क्यों चुराया,
दिल का शहर बसाकर, उसी को क्यों उजाडा,
लौट आओ मेरे हमदम, उजाडा फिर बसाओ,
राह देखती हैं आँखें, न और तुम सताओ।

जब से गई हो जानम, मुड़कर न देखा तुमने,
हम जलते हैं या बुझ गए, रूककर न पूछा तुमने,
मेरा गुनाह क्या है? बस चाहता हूँ तुमको,
तुम भी गुनाह करती, क्यों यूँ सज़ा दी तुमने?

दिल-ए-बरबाद को अब तक है इंतज़ार तेरा,
लौट आओगी तुम इक दिन, है एतबार मेरा,
हम रोज़ अश्क पीते, गम में डूबा करते हैं,
रोज़ बनता हैं लहू से, मुझसे तस्वीर तेरा।

दिल में पनाह दो तुम, या फिर फना ही कर दो,
या तोह तुम याद न आओ, या फिर बाहों मे आओ।

आ जाओ, लौट आओ।
आ जाओ, लौट आओ।

For those of you, who's browsers dont support hindi script, or the hindi seems to be jumbled up, heres the same poem in English Script

Barson beet chuke, jabse humein chhod gayi tum,
Hum hasna bhool gaye,
yun tanha chhod gayi tum,
Sadayein teri sunke, deedar tera paake,
kuch arsey beet chuke hain, yaad aati ab bhi ho tum.

Bhula na paaun tumko, meri yaadon mein na aao,
Aana hi gar hai tumko, toh zindagi mein aao.

Jab jaana hi tha tumko, toh dil ko kyun churaya?
Dil ka shahar basaakar, usi ko kyun ujaada?
Laut aao mere humdum, ujaada phir basao,
Raah dekhti hain aankhein, na aur tum sataao.

Jab se gayi ho jaanam, mudkar na dekha tumne,
Hum jalte hain ya bujh gaye, ruk-kar na poocha tumne,
Mera gunaah kya hai? Bas chaahta hoon tumko,
Tum bhi gunaah karti, kyun yun sazaa dee tumne?

Dil-e-barbaad ko ab tak hai intezaar tera,
Laut aaogi tum ik din, hai aetbaar mera,
Hum roz ashq peete, gham mein dooba karte hain,
Roz banta hai lahoo se, mujhse tasveer tera.

Dil mein panaah do tum, ya phir fanaa hi kar do,
Ya toh tum yaad na aao, ya phir baahon mein aao.

Aa jao, Laut ao....
Aa jao, Laut ao....

Thursday, 17 January 2008


Thy Humble Servant he always had been,
For him, you were generous, kind and serene,
No power could ever strip him of Faith,
But what lay before him, he'd never foreseen.

He hardly had wishes to ask from Above,
Life was simple, and peaceful, and pure, like a Dove,
And He thanked the Heavens for all that he had,
But deep down he knew, what was missing was LOVE!

And then one fine day, without any sort of warning,
Like a Fresh Breath of Air, LOVE at last came knocking,
He knew that at last all his prayers had been answered,
He had got what he Wanted, without even asking!

And Life passed by smoothly, without any care,
For they both had each other, They were walking on air,
But he never forgot to Thank the LORD,
Cause HE knew what he had now had come from UP THERE.

But then ONE DAY, She was taken away,
He was left all ALONE, life was in disarray,
He BEGGED and PLEADED with hands to the sky,
That what was HIS be RETURNED, but Heav'n offered NO RAY!

AND SO off to a graveyard he went with a spade,
He dug SIX FEET DEEP, and a TOMBSTONE he laid,
He cast all his Memories and Pains in that pit,
And He covered it up, and his heart brimmed with HATE.

Then He looked up to HEAVEN with bloodshot eyes,
He swore and cursed and severed all ties,
On the tombstone he scribbled, "REST IN PEACE,
Herein my LOVE, for ETERNITY lies."

And to date, his FAITH lies BURIED SOMEWHERE,
YES, till now his FAITH lies BURIED SOMEWHERE,
And the Tombstone screams - RIP...RIP....

Sunday, 6 January 2008

2 BEAT 11!!!

So 'TEAM INDIA' has lost the 2nd Test at Sydney. They're now lagging 0-2 in the 4-test match series. So now, they can either level the series - which is highly improbable, since the next match threaten to get finished off in just 3 or 4 days, its at PERTH, which is the fastest pitch on the planet. which means the Indians can beat the record for finishing both their batting innings in record time :p- or they can lose it(I can bet my bottom dollar on that). There's no chance of winning at Perth, but Team India can fancy their chances at Adelaide, where they won the last time in 2004.

India lost the 1st Test at Melbourne too. But there is a huge difference between the 2 losses. At Melbourne, India lost to 11 champions in baggy green caps. In Sydney though, they lost to just 2 men. The list that follows is the list of reasons why they lost:-

  • The selection process: Mind Blowing. Superb. Akash Chopra loses his place in the squad as a specialist opener just to make way for an attacking opener like Sehwag, who eventually doesn't play any game. Irfan Pathan doesn't play. Dravid is sent as opener and when he scores just 59 in 160 balls he's criticised - I personally think it takes a lot of effort and curbing of temptation to be able to last that long, for your team' sake. It doesn't get any crappier than this.





What?? Looking for more points? There aren't any.

The umpires did a GREATTTTTTTTTTT job. Mr Steve Bucknor and Mr.Benson. You ought to be declared "Knights" for your brave decisions. You both have great foresight. Or should I say, you both have a great gift of seeing what the human eye cannot! Wonder how you saw the nick that Dravid made to the keeper. Wonder how you saw Andrew Symonds in his crease when the Indians appealed for a stumping. How on earth did you see the gap between Symonds' bat and the ball when the Indians appealed for a 'Caught Behind'? And how nice of you Mr Benson, to be able to shed your ego and accept suggestions from Ponting to give Ganguly out. And what self-belief to refuse to consult the Third Umpire, just so that he isn't disturbed from his hard-earned slumber. How considerate!

Oh yeah, there is one more mistake the Indians committed. Actually it was committed by Harbhajan Singh. Dude, I really have no clue about what you said to Andrew Symonds. But if you really did call him a monkey, that was wrong on your part. You identified the wrong person.

There was not just 1, but 2 monkeys. One was at Square Leg and the other standing right behind the bowler's crease!!!