This blog wont tell you how to lose some extra kilos, how to keep your professional life happy, how to make love to an alien, how to stop your hairfall and neither it would tell you how cryptic your life is. All you would get here are some lame ideas coming from a lame donkey.
“बस आखिरी कॉल! फिर नहीं !”It is difficult to finish
a never ending conversation. A tsunami
might have hit 10 meters away, a lightning thunder must have roasted Neetu, and
finally I could see CR shutting his mouth up with asphyxiation. I might have been
hallucinating, though I wished for a moment it was true at least for CR; night
seemed to be colder than before in Jampot and a claustrophobic feel entrenched
me beneath an open sky.
My fear was staring at me; “In your face Bro!”; harder
was to allay the thought of not calling her tomorrow. No more of colossal
bills, no more of SMS recharge packages, would Bharti Airtel go bankrupt (the
demented MBAian spoke again), even smoke rings looked like sore arses.
A pause, “tomorrow, I’m getting married “. I was
taken down by shrillness of Abhi’s voice, “साले QUIZ का टाइम हो रहा है दोनों साले कहाँ @#$@# रहे हो!!” “Fuck you CR, another word
you utter and I would get a crane, pick you with your balls…..” for the first
time I felt like a Backhoe (the mean crane machine). CR could well sense the gravity
of the situation and left blabbering for some other location.
“You there?” yeah very much, but not in totality,
a part me had been sucked into void. The
night seemed to grow darker, colder, emptier and blunt. I felt this vicious week was at fault, all
Indian were at fault, how whole of India can get married in November. “सबको शादी करने की पड़ी है, ##$^%^ ! शादी न हो गयी चरस हो गयी बो दो सबकी
२३@#@#$” (Dementia speaks!)
The noises in background subdued, I couldn’t utter
a word, she was leaving me, I recollected myself, swallowed the lump which grew
heavy with each second, I said those three magical words, “all the best
!”. ( Crash ! Seriously dude, after a
courtship period of 6 years all she gets to hear is “ALL THE BEST!”, and what
is so magical about it.) The three words can fit in any situation (Dementia
speaks!) ; I tried, tried and tried, all I could utter
were words which seemed utter sham, we exchanged few rounds of warmth, few more
rounds of conversations, few more…... It lasted for an hour.
She said: “Good Bye! I’ll see you soon.” That’s it
I suppose. ”What did she mean by see you soon?” I stood there in the corridor
all alone staring into the void, She dropped off, why me? Why her, why us, why
the fuck am I in Jampot (Dude you have paid 15 lakhs for your MBA- yours sincerely
Kaput), hence this question is void ab initio.
My cologne had stopped working, all of a sudden I
could feel a stubble on my face ( but I did shave this morning), my sweatshirt
seemed sulky, my shoes seemed torn, In the mirror nearby I could see the other
side of me smiling.
“अबे बिशु दा के ढाबे चलो BACKHOE,QUIZ के तो पकोड़े लग गए, global consultant पता नहीं कहाँ loafing कर रहा है!” CR was back, he smiled jovially, but it failed to elate me. We walked
slowly out of the alley; CR’s chatter box was still on, all of a sudden it
struck me, I had left my watch back in the library, CR promptly said “अमा तो ले आते हैं, घडी ही तो है घोडा थोड़ी ना भाग जायेगी जो?”
I smiled for a moment, “she gave me that as a gift
let it is. Not needed anymore.”
“बिशु दा, 3 चाय और 1 सुट्टा देना”
The smoke within admonished me, I smiled and said
“Perhaps I will take that wrist watch tomorrow morning!!”
right here is a void; I can’t face myself in the mirror. After initial hysteria
that died, the euphoric tunes seem to have turned into cacophonous noises. All
that is left a void, a chasm which I find hard to fill in.
This part right
here is called GIVING UP!
I was done with
my salary negotiations which didn't go as expected. I think I couldn't get my
share because I was weak, I couldn't hard sell. Even an ostrich could have
bargained better than me. It hurts you more when people around you were able to
fetch more than you. Damn….
says, “Dude, it seems you got nervous” poor me, spot on, bingo, yeah you got it
right Rahul, and here is your million dollar cheque. To cash it you got to sign
I still feel
more than anything that hurts me is that I failed yet again to take a stand,
the feeling is immense, dis-aggregated I feel an inertia surmounting, sucking me
back to a chasm. In short I feel like crying. Meanwhile somewhere deep down,
dementia speaks, “Crocodile tears don’t fetch you money. You Jackass!!!”
silly, I can’t ask god why me because I know. I’m the ONE! The only ONE! The
only CHOSEN ONE – MORON DONKEY.
My room is in a
mess, so is my brain – brain dead. People around are happy , they demand
treats, they demand alcohol, they demand YO YO HONEY SINGH, after all I’m about
to become GLOBAL LEADER. An oxymoron donkey still feels better than Global
Leader – True Story.
To add to the
broth, I feel cheated, I feel hell. Congrats dude for creating one damn awesome BROTHELL!!!
I don’t know
which clothes to fold, which papers to put to basket, where to search for my
wallet, even that damn itch guard is missing. If there was an award for
philanthropy, congrats you just won an award. Best Saving caused to your
company, errrrrr….. Future company. What
I always had cherished for doesn't seem lucrative enough…..
Everyday, I start afresh take a hit, I don't mind, scars on soul remind me of times take a shot, I can't whine
everyday, I start to run to tear the chaos, to cut loose from the wind a slying chrome defines my world an elusive dream outta my clutch
the times I was struck, at times I'm broke at times when the jeer, at times when the shout I would take a shot, and run for a mile. I would take a jibe on myself, Put on my trendy clothes, no matter I have a 1 rupee coin would go out and run for a mile
Disclaimer: This post carries adult content, though in no ways intended to insult anyone. No Alpha males were harmed during the observations made.
Travelling by metro on an early saturday morning towards Delhi, my moron cells made an important discovery.
I usually prefer travelling at the cusp of bogies, conjoining reserved women's compartment with the potpourri (that includes me). This lot primarily consist of men who love being touched and touching others (to the point of fulfilling their carnal desires). Few love sleeping over you.
The objective to position myself in such a place (trust me lucky few get this place) solve my two point agenda:
a. you don't have to smell "smelly-bushy" armpits of Indian Alpha male (NO matter how many ads portray desires fulfilled, bhabhis giving you lap dances and AXING of libidos (A Pisces love exaggeration), we aka WE don't believe in applying DEODORANTS. PERIOD!!! ). The fragrance from the other side is mesmerizing. The awry alpha male on the other side always look to this side wanting and panting for more. An unreachable territory which for many out is desirable, intrigued eyes left wanting for more. Especially if you are around INA, jorbagh and Saket stations loads of pretty faces can be found, an eye candy. (Delhites call them totta)
Few who are brave and overenthusiastic try crossing the tormented line only to be ridiculed and sent back. The raucous aunties have their pound of flesh (You would always find one around in metro and trust me they won't get up and dance). These libidos then return with a clumsy smile. I guess that was the closest they ever got to a girl.
In the back ground someone mobiles rings "Ooh lala ooh lala, tuh hai meri fantasy !!! na na na..". Aptly said it describes the state of the men standing near that exclusive spot. The B-spot (aka BOGUS)
b. You are left amused with very interesting conversations from both ends. samples:
"तू मुझे बहुत डांटेगी, पर मैंने ना उससे Break up कर लिया. yaar he was two timing me. कितनी परेशान हूँ मैं !!!"
"अरे हम कह रहे हैं ना बस पहुचते हैं , चरस बो दिए है आप तोह!!" (and then he recites in a poetic tone, remembering mothers and sisters of our motherland)
"ओ जी, बच्चे को सु सु (toilet the no 1 types) लगी है ना, यही दरवाज़े पर करा दो ! gents लोगों के लिए ही problem होती है . बच्चों के लिए नहीं ."(I almost had a cardiac arrest after hearing this)
TRIVIA: *चरस : poppies. A kind of crude drug used by druggist across globe.
*बो : sown.
I can't really tell you the intricacies of where the man in question sowing these poppies.
Unlike tube/metros around the globe you would rarely find people reading. READING !!! "man its like he is intellectual types". "Not that he is a loner but he wants to read". "inko dekho metro mein padhai kar rahe hain." To add to his travesty, people along with him start reading too. They don't read his book but read his expressions. "BHaiya ji padhai kar rahe hain!!!"
The metro stops at Saket, enters our GEN-X. O benc$@#s !! The colors subliming into one, pump up shoes from Palika bazar, the well spiked gelled harido (as a baldy I'm jealous) and a 'YO' attitude on their shoulders. I could well see scores of Mr. Kohli's, few enter with their girlfriends.
In our times, I would have sung "yehi hai right choice baby, aha !!"
First thoughts the alpha male first stares-glares (बाय गौड आँखों से दरिन्दिगी टपक रही है.) and then thinks - "sahi totta hai !!". There is heartburn in the air, few are left bloating and and few have been stuck with acidity only to relieve gases at an appropriate time. (The time bomb timer has been set).
Few uncles think aloud, ladies compartment toh aagey fir......!!
Midst all this lovely crow-d, I was about to discover something....
Lighting had struck me, and I saw them kissing, paunch of men kissing other paunches !!! Holy cow !!! Eureka !! I had witnessed an epiphany.
Verdict: We Indians are best suited for Jeans. Our body - made up of fat, proteins, minerals, muscles, tissues and GAS (tick tick tick!!) is physically the best place for the jeans to reside on.
Dear Jeans, its in our genes,
to imbibe thy flair,
to put you on, to test thy stitching
thy strongest cloth would hold my derriere,
my paunch would rest on thy top,
thy completes my attire,
Thy complete my attitude
O' thou and I look so good together
O'Jeans you are in my genes.
(this verbatim is a piece of literature I follow - PROFANITY)
Jeans in rugged for decades, few unwashed for years, faded, crisscrossed, few inviting (showing the most illustrious and most sensuous part of alpha male) bum cleavages, jeans tore from the ends, few which not only cover the curves but also our very own customized bellies (soft and hard, three tier architectures etc.).
Apart from the ones available in the market such as Boot cuts, straight cut, low waists, low bums, skinny. There is an elite design one which even covers you chest - yes these are our very own two in one.
The genes are symbolic for us, the anonymous hero which never lets you down, you take it to places (you booze, flush, fight, abuse, rest etc) and it bears everything. More over it bears the weight of your paunch sometimes by making it rest over it and sometimes covering it. It goes in handy. If your jeans fails to cover you roundness, you can always open its button before lunch and yet it would hang in there as fateful (faithful) partner, it transpires and becomes low waist (some time low bum too). Yet it never has and perhaps never would find a mention in the books. I salute to the unsung hero.
I dedicate thou the Haywards anthem: Hausla ho buland !!
On the other hand, the GENX has made the girl laugh and the witnesses are about to diffuse their time bombs(tick tick tick !!!).
You have kissed paunch every thing and trust me "tu mera hero".
the tsunami of thoughts took a jerk. Our very own Shammi Narang (the voice of the metor announcer, a veteran from Doordarshan days) breaks into.
"अगला स्टेशन पटेल चौक! दरवाज़े दायीं तरफ खुलेंगे. कृपया दरवाजों से चिपक कर खड़े हों." (its not चिपक, though it goes better with the phrase, actually its हट )
My station had arrived and the silent time bomb has just been exploded. I had to get out. GO GO GO !!!
I poured in 4 cups of Americano, a dangling modifier misplaced my vision it feels I'm in a vertigo it cuts me out to the core oh no, how should I tell you... yeah, it feels I'm in a vertigo
painted zigzag on the canvas, ranted thoughts in diary, staring walls of my room... yes, it feels I'm in a vertigo pulled out my rugged jeans, got omelette and a beer It seems few meteorites just hit my head, it feels I'm in a vertigo
got to nearest subway, boarded a train to an unknown station, my thoughts are still in a tizzy, yeah I'm in a vertigo.....