Sunday, July 31, 2005

All the girls on the floor ... look no more ... 

The weekend was well spent in moving out from the old house (which was finally completed), introduction to golf (!!!!) and a visit to the night club. Every time I'm back from the night club, I get something new to post about. I've previously mentioned cool dance moves and the high-school resemblance. Last night I tried spotting what I thought were the sadder specimens on the dance floor. The competition was stiff but the judges managed to come up with three winners. And here they are:

* The well practiced decked up single guy: This is a new group I believe. They were there in abundance last night but were absent previously. This group comprises of single men who are dressed up impeccably for the occasion (tight shirt with carefully opened buttons, spiked hair, chiseled glances et al.) and have an awesome bag of dance moves ... BUT then they don't have a partner for company. So they dance alone and try out all these moves by themselves and look around periodically to see if they are catching any roving eyes. The humor gets an added bonus when two such people suddenly land up next to each other and they think that the other is encroaching on their territory. They then let loose their "best" moves (which always involves some step where the guy sits down at the end of a fancy twirl).

* The accompanying friend of the making out couple: I caught two such specimens and I sincerely felt bad for them. People belonging to this group (male or female) come along with a dating couple. Initially (which means till the first drink and follow up dance) they are a cozy three-some group. It's only after drink two that the couple starts making out and slowly forget or regret the idea of the third friend who accompanied them. The friend can't leave and yet s(he) doesn't want to be the proverbial haddi of the kebab. So s(he) loiters around next to the couple (who are all over each other) trying to be invisible. What makes this even sadder is, when in between songs and liplocks, the couple asks the friend, "Hope you are having fun"!!!

* The lonely girl who gets left behind: I've noticed that a lot of big group of girls hit the night clubs by themselves. They start by dancing together and then the popularity contest begins. Random guys come and suggest their desires to dance and do a lot more than that to these women. The girls check them out and if worthy the attention, they leave the group and become a night-long couple. Soon the numbers start trickling. The initial group of five gets broken down to four. Then the two twin-looking guys come and get hold of two more members. The two girls who are left behind feel terrible and just when they are wondering what to do next, the short guy with a neatly shaved stubble asks one of the remaining girls for a dance. Under normal circumstances this guy would have got the boot but the girl knows that she might soon be the last one standing - so instead of the boot she offers the guy her booty. And that leaves the "lonely girl who gets left behind all alone" :(( She then dances all by herself and occasionally raises her glass in acknowledgement to her other friends who try to avoid her glances.


Friday, July 29, 2005

A dash of confusion :) 

Ok! After yesterday's controversial post, it's time for something lighter! Something to confuse you or at least something that'll help you confuse others :) I've recently tried these two "what I call effective" techniques to put an element of confusion in the minds of people and the results have been quite funny. So I thought of sharing them here:

* Using meaningless examples: *This one was tried and tested on Subs the whole of last evening and is quite effective* All you do, in this technique, is to talk seriously on an issue and then insert an illustration that doesn't mean anything. Trust me, if you are serious enuff, the listener won't stop you for an explanation, while continuously wondering what it was that you actually meant. Take the following two examples that I tried:

- It is no use talking to you on this issue. You and I both have strong opinions. It's like a bag of jelly beans :)) See that didn't make any sense BUT say it seriously and I can assure you that the listener will assume that it was he who dint get the analogy.

- The Indian cricket team needs some serious reprimanding. Watching them play Australia is like watching a bear eat radish.

* The other technique is a lil more complicated to pull off. I've tried it twice and got the desired effect just once. So here it goes. You need a group of three and one of the guys should be returning from somewhere (the loo/ after parking his car/ phone call etc.) So imagine X is away and you and Y are talking. Now just before X joins you, quickly whisper to Y that "Don't tell X abt that. He might get upset!" That's it. For the remaining conversation, Y will keep thinking what it is that you were referring to and think twice before saying anything to X :))

Try it! Fry it! Rinse twice and then dry it!

Thursday, July 28, 2005

2 in 1 - a post and headLINES #27 (or maybe #26.5) 

Note: I've already started getting some averse reactions to this post. I've decided to keep it untouched though. It is but normal that people will differ with me on various counts. The reason for this part in bold is to remind people that there is a cartoon at the end of the post. So in hatred for the post, don't forget to read the toon coz that might give you more reasons for hatred :)

A small shady inn. Three men sitting and discussing a scheme.

"Shhhhhh!" the first one said. "They might hear us."
"Do you think it's feasible? Do you really think that people will come?"
"Shhhhhh!" the first one said. "They might hear us."

OK! So I dramatized. We weren't in an inn and there was no secrecy and neither did "they" hear us. The fact is that moi and two of my buddies (X and Y) were discussing "Speed Dating for Indians" and X suggested that I post abt our discussion on this blog. But before that - a little background.

Some group is organizing Speed Date meets in San Diego. An equal number of guys and girls gather up in a place and then each one gets to spend 2-3 minutes with the other person. Anonymity is highly respected and the only identity a person bears in such a gathering is a Number that they are given. At the end of the evening you let the moderator know the number of numbers that excited you and in case you fall in any of their numbered lists too, the contacts are exchanged. Blah blah blah!

So X suggested that we should have something like this for Indians (aka desis) in San Diego. Imagine it to be an in-your-face Shaadi.com, where instead of writing out "I need a guy who is dependable, caring, sharing and daring", you actually meet the person. Do you think it'll work????

My personal take is that even though the concept sounds exciting, it's the women who'll make it fail. Or rather - the lack of them. Dating is an alien concept to Indian women. Most Indian women either want to be "good friends" or a "wife". The middle route peppered with uncertainty is not for our lasses. You cant just tell a girl in India "Hey, wanna go out for a date?" You have to cloak the date as some other social gathering; maybe even bring an accompanying friend along. The use of the term "date" makes the whole concept a taboo. So it is dinner, movie, movie, dinner and then !bang! one fine day - "I love you". People who watch a fair dose of English movies will notice that the term "I love you" is considered a serious junction in Western relationships (often appearing after several dates and mates). On the other hand, 90% of Indian "relationships" begin with an "I love you and I wanna marry you". Bottom line - Indian women don't want to be "checked out". It is demeaning for them. So openly appearing for a Date Meet would be a big No No for most of them. That's my stance and I'd love to hear another point of view.

To highlight what I'm saying lemme give one more example. The term "proposing" has very different connotations in India and US. In India, when the eighteen year old girl receives a heart shaped Hallmark card and an accompanying teddy bear, she chuckles and tells her eagerly-details-awaiting friends that "He proposed to me!" In US however, the same girl says, "He asked me out". You don't ask people out in India. You "ask them IN" - In your house for the rest of your lives.

So, is dating out-dated???

P.S. I came up with a headLINES toon that was very apt for this post and so, instead of separate toons, shall post it with the post itself.


Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Just for you baby!!! 

"Tell me how much you love me?" the girl asks you while gently putting her hand strategically around your bicep. You know that all familiar grip. If you give a good answer she'll come closer and put the other hand around you too. She'll then put her head on your shoulder and smile wistfully. You'll also get three brownie points in her mental scorebook. But if your answer is not good, her grip will tighten. She'll first squeeze your hand and then push it aside strongly. You'll then ask her "what happened?" and she'll say "naaathing" and then sulk. This "nothing" is like the trailer of a disaster movie where you just hear some dramatic music for 20 seconds but you know that the actual movie will have two hours of mass destruction. So to avoid all that confusion, you look into her eyes and say, "I love you like no man has ever loved a woman". One second ... two seconds ... three and ... she smiles. Both her arms hug you and she closes her eyes and nods a happy smile and your heart knocks on the doors of your mind and says, "I'm sorry. I can't believe I actually said that. I know that was cheesy. Cheesy as in extra cheese on my burger cheesy. But what could I do?" The head starts to giggle. The ears amplify the volume. The heart apologizes again but the sounds are lost in the roaring laughter in your mind. The head says, "Can you imagine what your friends will say if they hear this?"

Each one of us portrays an external image. Some of us are the carefree ones, some of us don't cry, some of us never wear clean clothes while others never go for chick flicks. And yet, all of us occasionally break these images just to avoid confusion and we instantly look around to ensure that nobody has seen us doing or saying what we just did. I've seen friends of mine who've sworn off chick flicks all their adult existence, get caught red (or is it pink) handed outside movie theatres screening movies that scream out "For Women Only!" They've tried avoiding me. They told their girl friends "I'll be right back" and tried to run for the restroom. But to piss them off I caught them before they could piss. There they were. Standing with the trouser of their self portrayed image half down - ready to get screwed.

I've seen friends who claimed to loathe/detest/abhor pop music, dance all night long to the tunes of Britney Spears. I've seen friends who hated formal wear, pick up their dates in a bow and a tux. I've even seen a friend who thought that blogs are a waste of time, post one comment everyday on their lady love's blog, telling her how much the writing meant to him. And lest you think, I'm this macho dude making fun of all these love-struck folks, think again - if they ever start the hid-my-self-respect-for-love.com website, I'll surely be given a free account. Let's not get into nasty details but just to prove a point - I once wore a pink suit (and please don't ask me for details).

I know some of you reading this are going "Man! How can these people do all this?" The answer my friend is gently blowing in the wind and it's just a matter of time before you catch the cold too :))

So what is the most "un-you" thing that you've done in the name of love???

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Just for fun ... 

Dinner tonight was preceded by a ten minute wait. The lady at the gate asked me for my name. "Sagnik ..." Ooops! Rarely ever does anybody get the spelling or pronunciation right. So I normally give my last name. "Nandy," I said (I pronounce it N"u"ndy). "How do you spell that?" another question fired back. "That's Andy with an N before it," a standard answer followed. That's when the idea struck me. Next time I'm in a restaurant, and they ask me for my name, I'm gonna say Tikkuveerapandubabu and then spell it out slowly -

Tee as in Tea (and gesticulate the whole slurping cup action), I as in I (point at myself), K as in Kansas, followed by another K as in Kentucky, U as in You (finger pointing the other way), V as in We ...

That should be fun!

headLINES #26 

A special thanks to Ratna who reminded me that I hadn't posted toons in a while. And while on the issue - I would also like to thanks my Mom, Dad, sister and the hot girl in the bus who turned out to be just a strangely dressed man!



Monday, July 25, 2005

The Greatest Form of Flattery 

Some kind commenter just pointed out to me that someone has been copying and pasting some of my works as his own. What was even more hilarious was that the guy/girl who was copying, made the statement "No, not yet. However, I like to think of them as just me typing what I think at any one moment" when someone enquired if the articles had a name :)

If the person concerned is reading this blog then "Thanks" and I'm truly flattered. Also, you can always fight back on your forum saying, "The other guy is the one who copies and thereby put at least an element of doubt in their minds that I might be the actual culprit" :) There is a third possibility though - that neither of us copied from each other - in which case I'm surprised that even your apartment mate is called Subs. Talk abt similarities!

Number Crunching! 

M (who shall not be named, even though I'm tempted to do so) once again returns as the inspiration for this post. M and I were discussing my romantic past (ooooh la la)! Now for those unaware (which should be most people reading this blog), for a man who rants so much abt relationships, I'm actually quite inexperienced (aaaah listen to the sound of honesty dripping drop by drop). I've been in just two relationships - one that lasted two years and another that lasted six years. So even though it sounds glamorous to think "aah! I've been in relationships for eight straight years", going by sheer numbers - I'm no Mr. Lover Luvah. It was here that M put in one of her priceless gems. She felt that 2 relationships over 8 years is good for the "love resume" - apparently, it'll give women the impression that I'm someone who is pro-serious relationships, while hinting at the fact that more than one woman have fallen for me, suggesting that the package might be worth unwrapping. This made me wonder - what kind of a past do we expect from our partners? As straight forward as the answer might appear to be, the issue is a lot more trickier than that. So let's jump into details :)

Let's say you're a guy and you meet this "oooh la la" gorgeous girl. The two of you hit it off royally and you start wondering when to pop her the question. She then tells you that she has never been in a relationship. So what'll your reaction be? Trust me! It's NOT gonna be a "Wow! She has never been with another guy". It'll actually be "What? WHY has she never been with any guy?" You'll jump to a million conclusions - All the "Does she not like men?", "Are her standards too high?", "Maybe she is not what she appears to be" will parade in your mind. Accept it - a certain uneasiness will hit you and you'll re-evaluate your popping passions! On the other hand, if the girl tells you that she has been in three failed relationships, you'll feel a lot more relieved. "Aah! She definitely has been wooed by more than one man. So I surely have a chance," you'll smile a joyous smile. Plus you'll be excited at the easy serenading technique that just opened up! All you have to do then is find out abt the three men she had problems with and pretend to be "not them"! Nothing impresses a woman more than the opposite of her estranged lover(s) and men have used this trump card for years now!

There are pitfalls to this technique though! While "zero relationships" might make you question too much and "one" might make you think that this might be a rebound, "two-four" is both comforting and reassuring. However, as the number grows the girl treads into the "hoochie line". Moral values get questioned and you have to outdo a lot more men to impress her. As the number of yardsticks increase so does the difficulty of meeting them. It is easy to outdo the "jerk", "ego-maniac" and the "introvert" but a lot more difficult to compete with the "golfer", "the banker", "the Oxford grad", "the charmer" and the likes. With increasing numbers, comes increasing responsibilities and that's not a pleasing notion :) Bottomline - in an age where pretty much everybody has been in a relationship at some point - we expect a fair trade of our past secrets - where both parties bring to the table enuff sh!t to make the other feel comfortable while ensuring that there is no stench!

So what kind of a number do you expect from your partner????

P.S. To all the kind people who've enquired abt the sporadic frequencies of posts, the answer is still "the lack of internet connectivity". Subs gave into my idea of subscribing to Dish and in return I agreed to his idea of DSL. DSL needs a phone line - something we only get at the end of the week. So till then I'll try to make my posts like Mallika Sherawat's clothes - occasional, revealing but still worth a watch :))

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Weekend Chore 

Ok! I'll pretend to be discreet for once (the key word is pretend). Subs is spending the morning assembling his build-it-yourself chest of drawers and moi being the good apartment mate that I am, am providing him with some much needed help and support. Now, I don't know if I have a twisted mind or if Subs swings in more ways than I'm aware of, or if I'm plain simple bored and am searching for ways to amuse myself BUT these lines actually came up during the whole process and I don't know if they sound quite right :))

* Yes! Keep screwing. I'll tell you when to stop!

* The drawer keeps coming down every time. I think it's kinda loose.

* You have to bang it a few more times before it goes in.

* Harder, harder. This way it'll never fit.

* The chest actually looks quite good!


Once Upon a Time ... 

I'm sitting with Vipul and Sid and watching DDLJ - The DDLJ. The DDLJ which was The movie for The generation that I belonged to.

It was 1995. A young boy and young girl landed up in Kolkata's famed Metro Cinema. The young boy hustled to the ticket counter only to find half of India's population waiting there. The girl looked at him and raised an enquiring eyebrow. The guy look flustered and just then a guy in a lungi appeared out of nowhere.

"Ek ka der sau, ek ka der sau," he shouted in a hushed voice (people who have seen ticket blackers will know exactly how this paradox was achieved).

After ten minutes of bargaining the boy managed to get a great deal. Two tickets were bought for 300 rupees :) and the two pushed their way to a crowded front stall area. Many more men in lungis and twice the number of staring eyes greeted them there.

"Everybody is looking," the girl said coyly.

"That's not a bad thing. They have good taste." The boy made a feeble attempt to hide his embarrassment. His high school pocket money couldn't have afforded better tickets. Alas!

In the next ten minutes as Vicco Bajradanti and Washing Powder Nirma adorned the screen, the girl let out a few more complaints. They tried whatever little they could. They exchanged seats at least twice. She gave her dupatta an extra trip around the shoulders. They both glared at some of the roving eyes. But the problem was hardly solved. The boy started wondering whether the whole idea of bringing the girl for the movie was indeed a good one. But just then the Yashraj Banners appeared on screen. Kajol appeared in a towel and Shahrukh in rugby attire and everybody stopped looking anywhere other than the screen.

The guy kept admiring the dusky and husky Kajol while the girl kept saying that Shahrukh is very cute. Every time their eyes met, she smiled a twinkling thank you for the movie treat.

DDLJ saved the day for the boy ten years back and boy, ten years later the movie STILL ROCKS!

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Love ke liye sala ... kuch bhi karega 

I was working out in the gym next to this very hot girl and her very hunky friend. Hunky and Chunky got talking.

Hunky: So what's the deal with you and Jason?
Chunky: I guess I love him.
Hunky: What? I thought you guy's were just f**king around.
Chunky: Yeah! That too (and starts laughing).
Hunky: I don't get it. How do you know you love someone?

Hunky and Chunky kept talking and I kept eavesdropping. But that's not the point. In between his inclined press and pull-ups, Hunky had actually raised a very pertinent question. How do you know that you love someone?

The question made me think and I figured that most people somehow associate love with exclusivity. If there's any one person who you enjoy talking/sleeping/dancing most with, you somehow get the feeling that you are in love. Yup! Love=Exclusivity and that is very strange. All our childhood (and now in Potter's latest exploit) people told us that love is one of the most beautiful emotions and somehow, in a very strange way, this is the emotion we are most selfish with.

Try telling your wife, "Honey, I really love you. I love you a lot. Just as much as the house maid." Do you think your marriage will last another day? I doubt it! You'll soon find out that you and missus weren't maid for each other :) But the question is - WHY? If love is such a wonderful feeling, why would it irk your wife to know that you love someone else too. If helping multiple people equally earns you the title of a Samaritan then why should loving multiple people equally make you an unfaithful bastard? Socho Socho! Bolo bolo!

And No! I don't think that this is a sexual thing either. Try telling your parents that you love them just as much as the milkman and they'll surely think that you are an ungrateful wretch. Now tell your milkman that you love him just as much as his pretty wife and you'll probably be inviting some frequent visits to the bathroom after next morning's tea. On the other hand, if you tell someone that you hate someone else just as much as them, they'll actually feel better; coz now they have someone else to share their woes with. The same thing holds true for anger. I'd rather have my class teacher get angry with the whole class than just me. But with love, the wonderful soothing love, we somehow expect exclusivity.

I find it strange but then there are people who find me strange. So what's your view?

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

The Wild and the Mild! 

My guess is that tortoises are one of the most adventurous animals on this planet. Which other animal have you seen that actually moves around with its own little tent?? Naay! I can't think of any others. It's almost like they were made to camp. I can almost visualize two tortoises having this conversation:

Tortoise Uno: Hey remember the time we went to the field on the other side of the road for a camp. Boy, that was fun. We haven't done that in almost 50 years. We should do it sometime.
Tortoise Deux: Yeah! That was fun, man! The trek was a little too long. It took us two years to get there. But, boy, was it fun!

Personally, I've never realized the sweet joys of camping and trekking. And that is surprising since I'm surrounded by outdoor enthusiasts. What do you think was going on in the mind of the man who came up with camping?

"Hey, mate. Let's go for a walk. Now that we've worked a thousand years to reach this point of civilization, let's just pretend we don't have it and go and spend some time in the wilderness."
"Nice idea mate! Let's take some beer along with us too."

What? Have you noticed that it's almost always a compromise. You want to face the wilderness while carrying you beer cans, mosquito repellent, hiking boots and new-age synthetic tent. These days people even have special camping spots with man made toilets. It's like "Yes! I love to spend time in a barren land but I want some tissue for my tushi too!" If that's your motivation, I'd say the best thing to do is just switch off the lights in your drawing room, switch on Discovery Channel and drink beer. If walking is your motivation then buy a treadmill and start walking on it as you hear the lions roar. That way whenever you get bored you can switch off the machine and start watching a re-run of Seinfeld.

Obviously, I'm missing something. Coz thousand of people can't be wrong. But will some kind ones please explain what it is that evades me???

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

What would they do? 

In case any of you've wondered why the frequency of my posts have gone down slightly over the past few days, then it's an issue that I'll address or rather I'd say it's an issue with address. Yup! Moi is shifting apartments and even though most of the moving-in has been accomplished (yes, it's no small achievement), telephone lines and internet connectivity still needs to be fixed up. A man without broadband can only blog so much. Hmmm! Well, for all you sheltered folks who've never performed a move-in by yourself - it's one hectic process. No amount of planning helps and no amount of trips seem enough. There's always that one thing that's left in the old house when you've made what you thought was your last trip for the day. Yanyways, lemme not bore you with tiring details of the move-in process (the likes that'll tell you why you should be wary of stepping on the green rug in my new house in case you ever visit it). Instead, lemme share what's actually going on in my mind.

The whole move-in ordeal warranted a nice big post. I owed it one. Sadly, I couldn't think of anything remotely interesting abt the move-in and was left wondering if anybody else could do it for me. I tried to think of some of the bloggers I've been visiting for a while and what they would do if they moved in/out. Seriously, what would they do?

My good friend bridalbeer would probably give a sigh of relief if she ever moved out of her protected char deewar. She'll probably throw in a NYC reference as well; mention how Brian helped her move-in the last time. Antara will not post anything the day she moves in. She'll wait for a week and then post ten delightful photographs abt the whole experience. Megha too will have one photograph and a small accompanying post. But the post will not remain small when you visit it 30 minutes later to find everybody from blogosphere having left a comment on it. Three volunteers would even offer her a helping hand, even though two of them will be in India. And the sweet girl that she is, she'll dedicatedly answer every comment. The delightful Ratna will post some amazing story involving her little ones and how they reacted to the move-in while Samit Basu will just leave a fleeting reference to the fact that he moved out but list all the dvds that he took along with him. Ideasmithy will have a small poem, very deep, that'll compare moving out with some ordeal faced by women (I wanna know her reaction to this claim :)) while eM will have a random photograph and a very interesting description of the house warming party that'll follow. Rajesh will get phenomenal leverage out of this event when he successfully converts it into a short story that'll soon get published by Sulekha. Both Me and my good buddy Avinash Modi will try to be discrete. Knowing Modi, he'll just leave one line saying how engineers never move out but their abode gets outsourced. Sayantani will have a post peppered with anger of the younger generation at the whole concept of moving in and out. "These bloody Kolkattans and their moving issues," she'll chip in. I can just go on and on and on - how Ramya will surely mention a Tamil movie or how Anyesha will name all the people who helped her move and how the band met afterwards and played music or how good old Janani will mention at least something from Pilani associated with the whole experience. The list can just goes on and on.

Still, pretty still, personally there's nothing that I can write abt moving in. Except for:

Truck rental: $80
Cleaning material: $15
Electric Cables: $10
Kitchenware: $15
The price of seeing your new room when the setup's complete: Maybe it's priceless but I don't know coz I'm nowhere close to completion yet :(

Monday, July 18, 2005

Dude, what's your reason? 

A friend of mine and her boy friend were both reading the latest installment of Potter Tales. The boy friend finished the book a lil earlier than expected and threatened to tell moi friend the big mystery of the book. "Do that and we are over," is what my friend had to say in return. What? Have we finally reached the point where we are breaking up with partners for revealing the suspense of story books?? Whatever happened to good old days of treachery, deceit, "I need more space", gold digging, sexual dissatisfaction and the occasional confusion abt sexual orientation? Indeed they were right when they said that variety was spice and spicy is what we want our love dishes to be these days. It's no longer cool to say "we have a very sweet relationship". People have started to use words like "zesty" and "tangy" to describe their love. No wonder love is giving so many people the heartburns.

Seriously! More and more people are ending ties for what I consider are novel and previously unheard of reasons. It's just a matter of time before people start breaking up just to try out new techniques for breaking up. Gone are the days when you could just call your boy friend and scare him with the "We need to talk" line. Try that with a guy these days and he'll be so appalled my your lack of creativity that he himself will break up with you! My personal favorite was when a friend of mine had his girl friend tell him, "I don't know! Something seems to be missing. I don't know what but something is missing!" Now that is brilliance. No reason given but every reason given. Not only did the poor boy have his little heart broken into tiny little pieces with sharp edges, he also spent the next two weeks guessing what was missing. He would call her up in the middle of the night and enquire, "Was it the passion? Was the passion missing? Coz we can work on that?" ... "Did you think I was un-macho when I didn't pull the seat for you in the restaurant? Was chivalry missing ..." Soon the guy was left without a girl friend and an iota of self respect till now he secretly wonders what actually went wrong. Now that's an original break up line. What's the best you've heard, eh?

Sunday, July 17, 2005


I've spoken aplenty abt love, ranted a dozen times abt relationships, given my two cents on betrayal and spiced up the occasional post by mentioning sex. In the recent past even marriage has found more than frequent mention on this side of websphere. So obviously it was just a matter of time before kids seeped into my posts. Sometime back I posted abt my desires to have a child who is slightly screwed up. Consider this post to be an extension on the same topic; only this time let's consider the quintessential bright kid that every parent wants.

The other day I was shopping in the Indian grocery store and the owner of the shop hushed into my ears, "There he is." I looked around and No, Shahrukh Khan wasn't there. So who was she talking abt? "You know him, right?" the lady went on, only to spot the ignorance on my face. Clearly I was missing something. "That's Anurag Kashyap, the Spelling Bee champion," the lady spurted, alarmed at my ignorance. There he was. Fourteen years or something and already walking down the path of fame. Would I want my kid to be like him? Of course I would. Which dad wouldn't want a kid who can spell "Appoggiatura"? But just think for a moment. Just uno momento.

The moment your kid becomes an achiever you have a reputation to defend. Remember for every success of your kid there will be at least one other kid in his social circle who would dislike him a lil bit more. "My son can count till eighty eight," the proud mother of a four year old would say and what do you think will play on in the mind of the listening mother whose kid gave up at "fitty too". She'll smile a forced smile and add in the mandatory "Wow!" but will secretly wait for the day when "Mr. Eighty eight" gets below average in his physics test. Then all the mothers would meet secretly and analyze the various reasons for the downfall of the icon. "I told you," Mrs. Sharma will say, "It was all because hi mother gave him tuitions from the class teacher. How else do you explain his marks." Mrs. Kumar will chip in her eighty six paise (I believe that's the mkt value of 2 cents). "As if we didn't know why he came first in class," she'll say. "It's just that we don't want our kids to take such routes." "Yes, yes!" all the other mothers would add in, creating melody for the group.

So tell me honestly? Do you really wanna be the dad/mom of a baby genius and always be scared of your son getting that one blunder before people pounce to pass a judgment on him? Or do you wanna greet every exam copy of your child with the joy that "he couldn't have possibly done worse than last time?"

Let me no - yes, you red it right. Now you no which option my fadder chose.

Sleaze on lease 

Continuing with my ongoing trend of posting a slightly more risque post over the weekend, here's an excerpt from a very interesting conversation I had with one of my closest friends this afternoon. It must be mentioned that the person concerned is a married woman and the only reason I mention that is to reduce the sleaze factor of this post :)

Me: I seriously think women give way too much importance to clothes. Trust me, men don't care much abt what a woman is wearing.
She: Then how do you explain the fascination for lingerie. Why do men have a craving for that.
Me: It's like gift paper. A good gift paper can add value and curiosity to a good present. You see a funky wrapping paper, you become curious to know what's there inside. BUT no matter how good the wrapping paper is it can't make up for a bad gift.

To give you an idea of how this conversation then proceeded, the mention of wrapping paper made me wonder if this situation can ever happen.

Waitress: Sir, have you decided what you want for appetizer?
Man: Yes! Lettuce wrap!
Waitress: Yo! yo! put your hands in the air and sing.
Man: What?
Waitress: You said let us rap.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

He's back! 

Check out the free Harry Potter glasses that we received. Is it just me or does anybody else get reminded of the Father of the Nation??

At 11.45 in the night I suggested to Subs that we go and get his pre-ordered copy of Harry Potter. Subs wanted to go in the morning but I wanted to check out the crowd. I find it fascinating to see the effort fans put in towards such events. Spiderman, LOTR, Star Wars and now Mr. Potter - I have checked out the fan-atics at each of these launches/premieres. As usual, lotsa fans had dressed up as characters from the book. Surprisingly, the boy wizard wasn't the favorite getup - Ms. Granger easily beat Mr.Potter in terms of wannabes. That made me wonder which of the above mentioned fans would be the most dangerous to mess with. I had posted earlier abt our plans to bug the Star Wars geeks, and in retrospect, I feel it's they who can turn out to be the most lethal. Coz true Spiderman fans turn up in body hugging tights that make their crotch area an easy target. All one needs is a kick in order to get a Parker fan parked. The hobbit lovers with their bare feet are easy targets too. All they would need is just one stamp before they get posted off. I was observing the Harry Potter fans tonight and they wouldn't be much of a threat either. For starters, they are the youngest of the lot and even if they turn vicious the worst they could probably do is to poke me with their sticks. But the saber wielding jedis and the occasional armored Darth Vader can prove to be quite the challenge. To sum it all up:

When a Spidey fan calls
Try and target his balls
When the hobbits come near
Just try to pull their ear
If they still stay upbeat
Then target their bare feet
For Pottermaniacs dressed in cloak
The best they can do is poke
But from the jedis do be wary
Coz they can be quite scary

Friday, July 15, 2005

headLINES #25 

i have nothing to say now.
but you still said that.
i wish people had a backspace button when they spoke.



Thursday, July 14, 2005

From "What is Up" to Wassup ... the journey begins 

So I have ranted aplenty abt women and relationships. People have started thinking I am sad, desolate, lonely and desperate and I surely have problems with the desperate part of that statement :)) Hence, I decided to post abt something completely different - the process of "Westernization of Desis".

Now we-desis come to US with big suitcases with bigger nametags. The mom's are scared that their darlings will starve in the land of the sausages. The big suitcases thus play home to jars of pickles, Indian sweets and neatly written recipes. Some even have neatly packed stacks of Indian music and other homely strains that would keep the Indian in them active. The parting advice of mothers keep echoing in our minds. "Do this ... don't do that ... remember what XYZ did, never do that ... remember ABC's son, be like that" - a new set of yardsticks are born.

Three months and two American friends later we are slowly initiated into the Western Culture. I have written abt the accent changes in the past. So I shall spare that for now. Let's begin with everybody's favorite "Wassup"? Every desi at some point prepares an answer to this all important question. We start by thinking it's a genuine question. "This week has been particularly hectic. My mother called me up and ..." we start off, only to have these poor souls turn restless. We then learn the rules of the game. Brevity - the order of the day in the land of busy-ness. "Nothing man! Just goin on. Wassup with you?" we learn to say. We come back home and take out our "Westernization Check List". Step One done.

We then shift to the clothes route. Now this route is the trickiest. Coz no desi has the guts to leave all his Indian dressing habits at one go. This leads to a series of intermediate steps - most of them hilarious. How many desis have you seen with their university sweat shirt and very tight and "out of fashion in early 90s" Indian denim. And boy you should not make them bend. Your cool Gap Jeans and Tommy-shirt-wearing apartment mate bends down and you catch a glimpse of his VIP Bonus underwear. Now that's a bonus that leaves you scarred - doesn't it? I once joked to a friend that you can easily figure out if someone's from India just by looking at their underwear or watches, since I feel that these are the two things we change right at the end of our initiation - the final steps - just before Avinash turns Abby.

Things get even more interesting for the women. Reena starts off flaunting her homely salwars that good Mrs. Ahuja bought her daughter two days before she left. One of them is even sleeveless - something she would have never worn in India. And yet all her friends ask her what she's wearing. So she has no choice but too try out the new pair of tight jeans she buys in Walmart. It's only a month later that she finds out that collared T shirts don't go very well with jeans and three weeks later, when her labmate Lisa invites her for her birthday party in a Downtown night club, Reena sheds all her inhibitions and Indian-wear to fit into a tank top and short skirt for the first time.

Aaaah! I could just go on and on and on and on and on. But "value centric job scheduling beckons" and I must answer the call :)

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Sad State 

They say sympathy is the way to a woman's heart. So consider this to be me knocking (I couldn't find the bell(e)):

* The only woman to tell me that she loves me in the past six months then added "Sorry, I forgot my lines"

* I went shopping for my last surprise gift

* The only romantic email I received in the past two months was a spam

* The only visitor to my apartment in the past one month has been my apartment mate.

* The last time I got into a girl's pants was when I accidentally went shopping in the wrong store.

* The last girl to propose to me proposed that I become a committee member of the poetry club!

Knock knock!

Excuse me! I'm talking to you ... 

Once upon a time, in a college in India, a boy sat outside a big gate, waiting for a beautiful girl to come out. An hour and a siesta later the girl came out. The guy shouted out playfully, "Hey there, beautiful!" and all the fifteen odd women walking in and out of that gate at that time, turned around thinking it was them that he had called. Fourteen of those fifteen soon figured out that the Oscar had gone to someone else. Ten of them even felt embarrassed to have been assumptive. Five of these ten quickly ran into the open arms of the big gate while the other five tried a variety of gestures to ease out the of the situation. Two of them started looking all over the place, pretending it was something else that had caught their attention. Girl with pink top and matching biycle looked at her watch, itched her lips with her finger, blinked aimlessly and feigned a thoughtful thought. One girl even went to the extent of turning her head back an forth repeatedly. After all she had just realized that she had not completed her daily neck exercise and got down to doing so promptly.

This afternoon, a not so young boy was sitting on a university bench, trying to solve a job scheduling problem. A girl "who was so hot that she was actually cool" was sitting next to him. "How long have you been waiting for me?" the girl asked. And suddenly the guy forgot that there was no way that this girl, whom he had never met, could be talking to him. He looked at her pronto, only to realize that he was in the line of sight between Ms. Hottie and her skateboard riding friend on the other side. That reminded him that he too had forgotten his neck exercise and quickly got down to doing them. After all the situation was quite the pain in the neck.

So what is it abt us that makes us assume that we are a part of every conversation around us? A dog trainer might be walking his dogs on a desolate road and shout out, "Don't sh!t here" and we'll still turn around with the faint suspicion that he might be talking to us. A girl we've never seen would wave her hand and we would invariably look around to ensure that she's not waving at us. Super sexy girl sitting next to us in the bus will say, "He is kinda cute!" and we'll instantly revel in the possibility that "maybe she's talking abt me" only to hear her add, "too bad he is forty". And in all these situations we follow up our revelation with cover up acts that are far worse than the faux pas. Random head nods, quick cell phone calls to people we've not called in eons or a sudden plunge into the nearest reading material. Yup! That's us!

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

When three's not a crowd 

Once again a post courtesy a conversation (actually a chat). I call this phenomenon "three party friends" and I've spoken to a few others who've agreed with this. Do you have friends who are very nice people and excellent company PROVIDED you have a third person accompanying you? It doesn't matter who this third person is - it's just important that there's someone else with the two. Lemme explain.

Have you ever gone out with someone where you wished after a while that you had a third person there with you? Not because the person was boring you but just because you were scared that after a while things "might" get boring. That "after a while" might not even occur but it does scare the sh!t out of you. So while you're talking abt how your path breaking project at work is, you're secretly wondering "Ok! What next?" Often in these situations you'll realize there are sudden silence breaks. Both parties take a breather. They try to remember all the topics that they can talk abt next while trying to ensure that the silence doesn't turn awkward. You can even notice one of the two people saying "I'll just be back from the restroom". The other person tries to use this rest break to buffer up some conversation topics and just when you're back from the toilet - bang! You hear, "So did I tell you that Rajesh is visiting next week?" "Ah! Excellent," you say to yourself. "Rajesh to the rescue."

Interestingly, if there's a third person in the scene, you no longer feel the tension. Every time there's silence then, the whole guilt of boring the other person gets divided equally. You no longer think it's you who ran out of things to say. So you are calm and even without trying you land up with something to say. So this "third person" doesn't even have to be a great friend; just a stunt double. One who takes the beating of the situation but when the actor is back in form he can just sit aside. If you're still wondering if this happens to you, try to think of situations where you asked someone out and immediately mentioned, "Hey, why don't you ask X to join us too." Sounds familiar??

P.S. I can share my words with many friends, it's the silence that is reserved for the closest ones!

Monday, July 11, 2005

headLINES #24 

headLINES touches two related issues - work and the working girl. enjoy it or hate it ... well, you can also be indifferent towards it :)



It's like ... hmmm 

I was eating in the Indian restaurant with an American family seated in the adjacent table. While the parents seemed to be Indian food connoisseurs (they pronounced dal makhani impeccably), the son seemed like a desi-food virgin. The father insisted that the son tries the samosas. The obedient son followed the father's orders and loved the Indian appetizer. So he asked his dad what a samosa was. The father thought for a while and then explained, "It's just like dumplings (we Indians call it "momo") but made with potato". Now, I know that samosas are nothing like momos but at the same time I can't help but marvel at the analogy. Come on, how else would you explain what a samosa is to a Western audience? And that's when I realized that this is a very common strategy that even I've used in the past. When people have asked me for explanations to Indian concepts/habits/practices/etc. I've often tried using a well understood American concept as a starting point to build on. Here are three examples I remember giving people at different times:

* Cricket: It's just like baseball but with a flatter bat and lesser money for the players.

* Arranged Marriages: It's just like having sex on the first date. Only here, you get married before that.

* Gulab jamuns: They are like meat balls but sweet ... and without meat (I know this is lame but how else would you do it??)

So all you creative (and probably bored) people reading this - what's your description for these Indian concepts:

(i) saree (somehow I'm tempted to say "it's like a towel - only bigger and more transparent :), (ii) bhel puri (iii) songs in Hindi movies??? Any answers?

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Two Good to be True! 

Weekends are time for indulgence. I either blog abt movies, philosophy (or whatever I think that remotely resembles philosophy) and occasionally some risque stuff. Ok! So what's it gonna be this time? Let's see. I did watch Boondock Saints and quite liked it. I do have some philo too but I guess risque wins this weekend. So all you twenty two year old kids - scoot off!!

So this afternoon Hemo asked me ,if like most men, I too have the two women making out fantasy (the cool ones like to call it girl on girl action). Ok! Men reading this back me up (or call me weird) and women reading this get educated, but the whole concept of men and "girl and girl in love" is HIGHLY OVERRATED. Yup! I said it! A lot of men claim that it's their ultimate fantasy not because they actually care abt it but just because they've been told that it's manly. The only reason a man might be interested in seeing two women do whatever they plan to do is coz he thinks that there might be an outside chance that they're bisexuals. What else do you think is our motivation? Otherwise it's like watching someone else buy the last bottle of soda from the neighborhood shop on a scorching day - it's everything that you can think of then, but you know you can't have it :((

Another thing with me is that I'm a practicalist. Yes, even when it comes to my fantasies. If I ever think of two women together, and me anywhere close to them, I'll try to justify the whole situation. What am I doing there? Am I there to deliver food? Are they planning to steal my money? But, I don't have any money? So what is it that they want? My new T Shirt? What if the two women ask me which one of them I think is prettier (come on, you know that at some point they'll surely ask you that)? And then for some reason I have this mental image that after whatever it is that these women will do in my fantasies, they'll want to go shopping. And I would HAVE TO accompany them. What if one of them wants to buy boots (= three hours) and the other one isn't sure what she wants (= three days). Who will run my simulations then? Man, do you get the picture? No wonder, I'm better of without women+women fantasies.


Friday, July 08, 2005

For the want of brevity 

I realized that many of my posts tend to be quite long. This is strange given my huge love for brevity :) So here's a crappy 5 line play that I wrote (?) and bugged my apartment mate by repeatedly enacting it out with varying emotions.

Chilly mountain peaks of Nepal. Sherpa One is sitting and eating frozen meat. There's snow all over the place. Sherpa Two walks in.

Sherpa 2: What are you eating?
Sherpa 1: Yak.
Sherpa 2: Yuk!
Sherpa 1: No Yak!
Sherpa 2: I know. Yuk!

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Faking It! 

Nope! Sorry to disappoint you. This is not the fake stuff that Sally popularized after her restaurant encounter with Harry. I'm talking (or will be talking) abt faking nonchalance.

Have you ever given your number to someone from the opposite sex and the other person said that they'll call you up and confirm something (let's say a movie plan). Say at around 7.30 pm.

So it's 7.15 and you are talking to your friend on the phone and it strikes you that you might be getting a call at "around 7:30". Now we all know that rarely does a call "at around 7.30" mean anything "before 7:30" BUT we still don't wanna take a chance. So you hang up on a perfectly fine piece of conversation and sit next to the phone. You switch on the TV and glance at the watch. 7.20. You switch off the TV and glance at the watch. 7:22. You feel like peeing. But what if she calls then???? So you hold back. 7:27. You switch on the TV again. The next time you glance at the watch it reads 7:32. What??? She said she'll call at 7:30. Why hasn't she called yet? It's then that all the strange thoughts play knock knock jokes in your mind.

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Girl who?
Girl who gave you a royal ditch by not calling you.

"Shut up," you silently scream at your mind. 7:41. Now you are sure she has forgotten you. So you come up with a list of faults in her personality to salvage your battered ego. "She seemed a lil too bitchy. Especially the way she spoke abt her ..."

Trrrrring! The phone rings. You jump to pick it up. "What are you doing?" your mind stops you. "Wait for at least three rings. You don't want her to think you were desperately waiting for her call. Do you?" So you wait for the first ring. Then the second. "What if she thinks I'm not at home?" the question enters your mind. So you reach out for the phone. The mind tries to nudge you and make you wait for one more ring but you don't wanna risk it.

"Hello," you almost shout into the phone. Then you slowly force your heart-rate to return to normalcy.

"Hey," she says. "What were you up to?"

And suddenly you remember how desperate you've been. You can't just tell her "Oh! I was madly waiting for your call. Madly. Em-A-Dee-Ell-Why" Society has taught us to "be cool". So you think for a second and say, "Oh! I was watching TV."

The two of you have an interesting talk for ten minutes and you hear a faint ring from the other end. It's another darn call. "Hey, can I call you back in some time?" she says. You graciously say, "Oh! sure." She hangs up.

You look at the watch. 8:02. The ordeal of wait begins all over again.

Collage from College 

Ok! So my sister Pummy has the most amazing set of friends I believe. According to her, the Masters program in her university, is far more entertaining than any comedy show currently doing the rounds. I can start a separate blog just on stories from Pummy's new college but too much of blogging is not good :) So here are two stories she told me recently:

* There's a slightly (and I'm being parsimonious with my use of adjectives) overweight girl in Pummy's class who claims to be dating one of Bengal's most eligible movie stars. This Bengali dude is rumored to have caused quite a few heart aches and Pummy's friend claims to have completely bowled him over. Every day the girl narrates tales from her book of romantic escapades (including how they successfully dodge the paparazzi). Finally some girl in the class could not control her curiosity and asked this girl "what this actor sees in her?" And, I'm not making this up, but apparently she said, "Why? My big bottom?" Yes, that might sound like a 'rear' answer to you but that is what Ms. I'm in Love said.

* The second incident involves my sister. One of Pummy's classmates is supposedly a B-grade Oriya actress (I never knew there was a category like that). According to Pummy the girl is unadulterated weirdness on legs. She once asked another girl, "Do you do business? I can get you some clients." Needless to say, the other girl didn't dare to ask what business and clients she was talking abt. Yanyway, this actress came up to Pummy recently and said, "Do you realize that I don't talk to you anymore?" A heart broken Pummy, who had apparently not realized this welcome development, couldn't help but ask her the reasons behind this harsh treatment. "Because you and your friends are very bitchy. You make fun of me." Now my sister can be many things, but one thing she is not, is mean. So she instantly apologized. "I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea you were smart enough to get the jokes. I wouldn't have cracked them if I knew that you understood them. I'm sorry." Yikes!

headLINES #23 

I gotta accept that many of the ideas I had for my follow up post have already been posted as comments on the previous post (darn, you creative minds). So I'm left with no option but to churn out yet another episode of headLINES. This time we have something for the children too.

"Oh no," the lil kid in the Internet Cafe screamed. "I only read this blog coz it had adult stuff."



Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Part-ner Part-one 

Disclaimer: A lot of the stuff (a looooooot) on this blog is fiction. Like this post. I better defend myself and my reputation. Good! Now read on :)

Two of my close friends are into the partner selection game these days. Earlier the parents would do all the hard work - find the girl, find the guy, find out if the guy has a job, find out if the girl can cook non-vegetarian, find out why the guy's last girl friend left him and if that "problem they heard abt" was actually true. But now we've all become cool. We shriek at the very mention of arranged marriages, let alone not playing a big role in one. So once a prospective girl/guy is chosen for us, it's upto us to take the game further. All this made me think and I figured that I have no freakin clue how to interact with a prospective partner, especially when I might not have even seen the person.

So let's assume that my mom finds this girl who she thinks is perfect for me. She tells me abt her. My first reaction is "What, arranged marriage? No way!" "Does Mom think I can't get a girl for myself?" I repair my bruised ego and tell Mom an emphatic No. I tell her that I'm from generation X - I can't marry someone my parents have chosen for me. Undeterred by my refusal, Mom tries to make a case for the girl. She tells me that the girl is very beautiful and cooks, cleans, stitches, paints and dances like Michael Jackson. "Hmmmmm! Michael Jackson," I tell myself but instantly realize the trap I'm falling for and shoo mom away once again. Mom tries again and so I'm left with no option but to use my favorite topic changing trick. "I hate cooking," I crib to her. "I tried making chicken curry today and failed miserably" my heart cries the tune of feigned failure. "What? You couldn't make chicken curry?" Mummum gasps. "It's so simple. Just boil the chicken and add ..." Ten minutes later I finish my tenth lesson in making chicken curry and Mom completely forgets the girl she was talking abt.

Three weeks later I'm walking down the road and I see this cute couple holding hands. They look very sweet together. The guy is wearing a very loose pair of jeans. He puts his hand on the zipper area and pulls up his jeans and the whole move reminds me of Michael Jackson. "what if" my heart sings. "What if that girl Mummum mentioned was here now," I tell myself. That evening I call up home. I wonder how to bring up the whole topic of the girl again. Mummum begins to tell me how easy it is to make mashed potatoes with diced tomatoes and I say, "Why don't you just teach it to that girl you were talking abt and she can make it for me." I don't forget to put on a cocky tone, lest Mummum thinks I'm desperate. Having been reminded of the girl Mummum gets down to praising her again. How she "always stood first in class" and that she "stood no ordinary stood" but stood all of five feet seven inches. She goes on for ten minutes. She even tells me that the girl's father is a very respected man and laughed at my father's jokes. "Ok! If you insist so much I'll contact her," I say reluctantly. Mummum shouts in joy. She quickly takes out the lil digital diary that I gifted her and reads out the girl's email ids (both the yahoo and the msn one), phone number, fax number and web site details. "Just contact her once," she says earnestly before saying that "the tomatoes have to be washed twice before you add them to the potatoes."

Ok! So imagine that I now have pretty_face_1980_dancer_girl_cooks2@yahooo.com's email id. What do I do next? I have no idea what to say to a person who you approach with the intent of producing future kids with. Do I start with a joke? Do I send her my resume? Tell her that I know both Java and C++? What do I do? Thank GOD i haven't had to face any situation like this till now. But in case I do it's likely that it'll be the first of many such two way interviews and it's a good idea to be prepared for it. That's what the next post will be abt. A quick guide to what I plan to do if introduced to my baby's mommy. So come back tomorrow for part deux (which is due) :)

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

The Love Suit (or is it Coat ... or is it Quote) 

The last three days saw me making quite a few smart ass comments on my "by now ranted abt incessantly" past relationship. People suddenly seemed to be interested in my past again and I never disappoint an eager listener :) Here are some of them:

* I think she had the last word - but it was all gibberish.

* The two of us have finally reached a point where we can hate each other without having any hard feelings towards each other.

* I don't miss my ex. I just miss the person I thought she was.

* Two things I don't miss from my past relationship - her weight and my wait.

I'm not mean - I was just bored :)

Passing "bye" 

This always plagues me. Whenever I have to end a perfectly good telephone conversation I have no idea what to do. Why end the conversation for starters, you may ask. Coz no conversation is great till eternity, I say.

You start off by finding out how the other person is doing, then move on to movies, then sprinkle a lil bit of gossip, add in another pinch of movies and even do a little bit of soul searching. This is great you say to yourself. We can do this forever. Naaaay! Naaay. You soon get into movies again and this time you realize that it isn't as interesting as it was the first two times. You realize that more conjunctions and non words have started to sneak into the conversation ("Errrr .... ummmm .... and then .... hmmmmm ...."). Soon you know that it's time to end the conversation. But then you can't just tell that to the other person. So you start thinking on how to draw the line. While still talking. While still pretending to listen. "Yeah", "right" and "very true" becomes the principle ingredient of your vocabulary. "It'll be so much simpler if he just hangs up." you think. You know there are some stock situations - "Hey some guests have come over", "Hey, I have to go out", "My room mate is calling me" - they all work well. Sadly, they all sound lame as well. Even if they are genuine, the other person always gets the feeling that maybe you got bored. Moreover, you run the additional risk of using the same excuse multiple times (I remember Hemo asking me once during high school - "Exactly how many times does your father need to use the phone when you talk to me?"). So you try to choose the best dish from the buffet of excuses laid before you. Finally, a perfectly great conversation reaches a point where both parties have no idea what they're talking abt and just hope that the other person will throw the bait of cheap excuses. Alas!

This post can't be ended with the mention of a new technique that's doing the rounds (I've seen it in action twice). In this style you hang up, but put the blame on the other person. "Have you eaten lunch?" you ask her, knowing perfectly well that she'll say no coz she told you twenty minutes back that she had a late breakfast that day. "You better go and cook then. As much as I would like to keep talking to you, I don't wanna be the reason for that pretty face to look hungry. Give me a call once you are fit and fed." So now you have managed to hang up while sounding concerned and loving. Nice!

Any more ideas?

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Let's just be Rachel, Joey, Chandler, Ross ... 

I'm not the first person who is irked by this issue and I'm sure that there are others who feel strongly abt it. So ladies and gentlemen, let's join voices and discuss once again a line that all of us have heard at some point or the other - "Let's JUST be friends."

Have you ever realized that this line always comes at the most inopportune moments? You find out that your girl friend is secretly dating someone else. You confront her. She unapologetically tells you that "things are not working out" so "let's just be friends". Your boy friend has been avoiding your phone calls. Finally you manage to get hold of him. He doesn't apologize. He looks into your eyes and says, "Well, let's just be friends from now."

What? Seriously, what?

Ironic as it might sound but this line is always used in the most unfriendly situations - making it completely useless therefore. Would you normally wanna be friends with someone who's cheating on you? Someone who's abusive? Or someone that you just figured out wanted to "save herself till marriage" but never told you that the marriage dint involve you? Why can't people just say, "I've anyway betrayed your trust. So let's not fool ourselves anymore and let's just get lost." Nope! You cheat, beat and retreat and that doesn't bother you. But at the end of all this you turn into an epitome of grace and gratitude and offer the other person the envied option of being "just friends".

And while on this issue, can someone please explain to me what the term "JUST" means? Why is it always "let's JUST be friends"? Was there another associated option? Has anybody ever said "Ok! Let's be friends, study partners and gym mates?" to which the other person replied saying, "No! I can't study with you. So let's just be friends"? No! There were no other options. So what do people mean when they add the highly stressed JUST to their statement. Is this just?


Ok. All you people who think that I blog to portray a goody good boy image of myself - correct yourselves. Given below are ten not so flattering things that people have said abt me in the past (in no particular order). I've also given my modest opinions abt the opinions themselves. Interestingly seven of the ten things listed below were pointed out by one single person :)

10. I can be very sarcastic.

9. I don't forget past incidents and keep bringing them up.
*not completely true. the lingering effect of shit depends on how messy it was*

8. I have an ego.

7. I talk a looooot.

6. I'm very immature.
*people think i'm more immature than i think i am - but maybe i feel that way coz i'm immature*

5. I don't take things very seriously.

4. I'm a superiorist i.e. I like to associate with successful people.
*untrue - it's just that i'm lucky to have some very talented friends*

3. I'm terrible when it comes to keeping in touch with people.
*i don't snail mail, i'm a bad emailer BUT very prolific IM chatter*

2. I'm a bad loser.
*depends a lot on what i'm trying to win. i think i've really improved on this front (especially after i realized i suck at video games)*

1. I'm way too factual. OK, I have to explain this one. people have said that they are very careful of talking factually incorrect stuff in front of me since I tend to correct them.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

Quick Update 

I updated my blog links (as usual I would've forgotten to add many - so if I have left a comment on ur blog and not linked to you please let me know). Sadly, I removed the whole rhyming trend that I'd stuck to all these days. With people removing their blogs, it was increasingly effort-taking to maintain the rhyme during the deletion of an entry. Also I had to find sets of two new links before I could add them. Yanyway, bottomline being that the present links look horrific (given their alignment and size) but as M (who shall not be named) said, "I think people will be surprised if your blog looks nice. You should always keep it disorganized!" :)

News (yeah, it's time to spread information) 

Well, since most people use my blog as a way to learn abt current happenings and as a rich source of news and information, I decided to update your knowledge on some of the recent happenings in entertainment industry:

* For Angelina Jolie, her relationships are her Brad and Butter.

* Michael Jackson is planning to take a looooong vacation. After all the last few months were no child's play for him!

* Unlike his previous relationship, Ben Affleck finally garnered enough courage to marry Jennifer Garner.

* Tom Cruise plans to start a new home with Holmes.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Family Ties 

It seems people, who should supposedly be my friends, are hitting on my sister. I'm cool with that (or so I shall say). To make matters worse some of them even use me as part of their sorry pick up line. "Aren't you Sagnik's sister?" "Haven't I seen you with Sagnik in blah blah?" they say and avoid the initial creepiness of the first conversation. I've even had friends who confided their deepest secrets in Pummy, only to have me traumatize them abt it later :) The best part of a friend falling for your sister is that they break the Golden Rule of friendship that states "Ye shall not eye a friend's sister, ex or mistress" and as a result they become extra nice to you to atone for their misdeeds. For example, a friend of mine who harbored "feelings" for Pummy treated me in a much talked abt restaurant to redeem his guilt. So the bottomline is that - it's all good when it came to my friends and my sister. Sadly, the reverse situation is a terrible tragedy and that's what this post is about.

Pummy is a good four years younger than me. So there was a phase in our lives when I knew abt the chirp but Pummy and her friends were ignorant abt birds, bees and the buzz. Ironically for me, this was the phase when most of Pummy's friends were introduced to me and all of them made me their "elder brother" by association. "Hi, this is my brother Sagnik" followed by "Hello Sagnik da" was the standard nightmarish greeting in those days. As a result, I now have a bevy of twenty two year olds who have brotherly feelings for me - much to my discontent and displeasure. The matter worsens because even when the occasional friend broke norms and enquired abt my relationship status, Pummy and the other friends would jump in with "Eeeeew! That's gross. Sagnik da is like your brother" and that would be the tragic end of a could-be-romantic-classic.

I've discussed this with other "friends with sisters" and all of them have their own stories. A friend of mine had the most amazing experience when his overprotected sister's friends from an all girls school experienced their first desires to meet the opposite sex. It seems their only choice was between him and the guy who sold Rambo Posters outside the school and between the two, my friend was the better man. So for a two year period he was the most sought after hero-figure in a certain Kolkata school. Not all friends were this fortunate though. One of my close friends almost had a mental break down when all the girls without brothers in his sister's class mentioned him in their essay on "My Brother". At least I dint face that :)

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