Not every journey ends....

Introduction:

Not everyone is good for belly dancing, neither every men suits in French cuts.

Politically correct people say, “It’s not my cup of tea”

………………………………..

“Hi! What is happening over there?”

“Hello! I am not sure why people have gathered. Shall I confirm?”

“I’ll be obliged if you can.”

“Sure! I’ll be back in a blink. Can you just keep an eye on my belongings?”

Pankaj was soon one of the several thousand persons standing on Indore junction, railway station.

Being demoted is not a good feeling, is it?

“Hey bhaisaab! Why all this Babel? ”

“Don’t know brother. I am just a shadow in front of you trying to enquire the same.”

Some seventy five, OK pardon my rowdy exaggeration, fifty people were standing there. All Men!

 Don’t get ideas, we still have good number of ladies traveling and railway is quite safe (An NGO studies says it is safer than Donkey’s back.)

Pankaj was representing one; there might have been others as well.

A straight line by the minute pointer and Pankaj succeeded to reach the enquiry counter, His Bag…Belongings!!!! Forget it.

Not any of his predecessors had anything to explain him. We Do Not Believe In Sharing…OH!!! DO WE??

“What’s going on? Something fishy?”

 “Nahi Nahi! There has been some small problem in Intercity Express.”

Damn! Repeat that, you filcher.

“What problem? Are you talking about Nizamuddin Intercity Express?”

Heaven, do not say this. It is 10^th of May. I am sweating like a PIG.

American PIG dumbo, our pigs are smarter.

He ignored Pankaj’s clamor, he has to. A tank full of people come daily and create brouhaha over his head. He announced over the microphone, “Train no. %&^*^ , Indore to Hazrat Nizamuddin via….. blah blah blah…”

Pankaj prayed, “Don’t say that, you black tongued.”

The announcer continued “has been delayed and will leave at 9:30 PM, with a 7 hours delay.”

“Your inconvenience is deeply regretted” He added.

“Aaraghghgh! I’ll tear up your belly and cinch your pancreas if you repeat your regret again.” Pankaj was quite poor in abusing.

Some 10 minutes later…..

She was still sitting there, eager but calm. How people from Venus maintain two different shades at a time?

Don’t ask me, I am from Mars. Ladies!! Any help?

“Hi! Are you fine?”

As if she is looking an exhausted Usain Bolt. 

“Hiiii! Ya ya, I am good. Where have you been?”

Wow lady! Were your brown eyes not following me? Do I look a fool? Filth lies.

But then truly, lies wrapped in Azure silk duppatas are beautiful.

“Nothing! I have just been to the enquiry counter. Did you hear the announcement?”

Or are you making me the assassinator?

“No! What announcement?”

“Intercity to Delhi has been delayed; I hope you are not traveling with the same.” I wish you do. I strongly do. How will I pass remaining 8 hours? I can not buy and read novels at railway stations.

“Ohhh! How long? I am traveling with the same.” Girls are cute when they are little worried. Of course, they are cuter when they blossom their smile.

“They announced around 7 hours. You can go back to the place you stay.” You have luggage equal to three hippos. Indore must be your home.

No god, no. Please.

“No no! I am not a native here. I was paying a visit to my friend’s marriage and will have to wait at the station.” OK, this mascara, eye liner, ponytail… Now I got it. Huh! Even I can be stunning after burning 3000 bucks in a parlor.

“Hmm, I see! Then? Staying here for this long? At the station?”

“I wish I could move, but I’ll wait here. I have quite some luggage and then I am unknown to this place” Some? You say it again and authors of Oxford dictionary will hunt you down. Or may be not, for you are so gorgeous. Males are cheated, are not they?

I demand reservation.

“Ok! No worries. I was also about to stay. It is awfully hot outside. Let us move to the waiting room”

“Yes, which way?”

“Come; give me two of your bags.” You got a coolie for nothing.

“Hey thanks! You are a nice guy.” Tell me something else, I know this.

Waiting room had….. Room… WOW, I mean WOW!!!!

Pankaj was breathing heavily. He murmured “Lady, are there cement blocks in your bag, which I’ll have to carry again?”

“You said something?”

“No no! Was just wondering what your good name might be?”

“Hey! You should have asked. You are a bit too humble.” As if you have asked your collie’s name.

“OK, now asking. Here am I, Pankaj.”

“Sneha, from Meerut.”

“Great! I am from Varanasi.”

Two hours passed.

“Pankaj, you are quite quiet. See how much I have spoken, about me, my college et al.”

Because I am not wearing that Apricot stole. Because I am half lost. Because I just want to hear.

“Haan! You said something? No, I usually speak less.”

“OK, tell me what you do?” Currently? Staring you divine lady.

“Well, I am a software professional at an MNC in Gurgaon. I help in IT related issues petroleum industry faces.”

“That must be something very brainy. You look quite intelligent.” That means you are actually not.

5PM……..

“Hey Pankaj! Do you know some place here to roam around?”

“Did I not tell you that I have been here only for 2 days due to my sporting commitments? I do not know a thing.”

“Can we explore, if you do not mind?” My purse would, though I won’t.

“Let us go then.”

“Hey, but I pay for myself. You should not have any reservation for that.”

“Though I do not like anyone paying if I am there, but if it is a thumb rule for you, I’d rather respect that.”

“You are truly a kind hearted gentleman. Your wife would be a very happy lady.” Yuck!!

“Bring me down, I am not that good. Let us go.” It is not always very good to hear good words about you. Especially, when you are not good at praising others.

Somewhere on Palasia Road, in the middle of Chappan Chowk, Neeraj was doing his job of the day, staring.

To be very honest, he never did so in his entire life and it was not the SRK or Anil Kapoor’s feeling but still he was staring  Sneha gulping Pani Puris.

“Hey, try some. They are very nice.”

“No, thank you. I’d look for some lassi.”

“Buy me a couple of Gulab Jamuns then.”

“Sure, but won’t you mind if I do so?”

“Eh! Friends. Can have something from your money.” Sneha lend her bare left hand out to shake. Pankaj tumbled, but was good at hand shakes. Thanks to corporate.

“So! Are you saying to buy clothes as well?”

“Hush! You are not that good friend yet.” Sneha giggled.

Why do they giggle, why can’t they laugh?

9 PM…..

“How long Pankaj?”

“Very soon. Do you want me to go and ask?” Am I the driver?

“No leave it, they would announce.” Really? Would they?

“By the way, will you move to Meerut directly or will stay at Delhi for some time?”

“Will catch a bus ASAP. Hey! What is your coach number?”

“S7, yours?”

“Same!! Touchwood. Don’t say you sleep at night?”

“I usually do not.”

“Great! We will chat then.”

How long a girl can chat?

10:30 PM…

“So tell me Pankaj, what are your hobbies?”

“Why? Will you challenge me in cricket field?” Currently, listening you.

“You are too quiet.. Don’t you know how to talk good things to girls?”

“Hmm!”

“How do you define friendship?”

“Hmm!”

“Your take on love?”

“Hmm!”

“Any girlfriend? You must be having.”

“Hmm! Ahem..haan..nahi.. no, none.”

“Do not lie; there must be scores of girls who would fall for you.”

“Wow! How do you know?”

“Girls have 7 senses; I can foresee things you can not.”

“Great Deviji! Spare me. I am a fool.” Agreed, had no other way.

2:45 AM…

“Now sleep, I am sleeping too.”

“I don’t feel like. I’d sit for sometime.”

“Do you smoke? Guys awake till this late usually do.”

“Shut your mouth and eyes and don’t get ideas poor girl.”

“Ok baba! Don’t frown. It is already very hot. Calm down.” Giggle again.

4 AM….

Sneha asleep, Pankaj at the door.

What was this? Certainly not a friendly affection. He has been friends to many many boys and girls. It is something else. May be the thing called a tinge of love. May be..may be not.

Pankaj does not know. It is entirely new experience. He goes back, Sneha is still sleeping, divine..childish.

5 AM…

Pankaj still thinking, jotting down things. The page is full; he has no space for this thing.

He combs his hairs. Whenever he combs, he is confident and had made a decision.

8:30 AM….

“Good morning lady! Had nice sleep? Need some tea?”

“Good morning! No, will have a mouthwash first. You did not sleep? ”

“I did for 5:30 to 7:30. Need no more.”

“Hmm” Beautiful was a word to describe her. No more staring though.

12 noon, Nizamuddin Station….

“OK! Bye Sneha. Go safe. It was nice traveling with you.”

“Huh! Shall I ask for your number? Cheapo!!”

“It is 97%^**^&*, but do you need that?”

“Won’t you ask mine?”

“No, if you require you would find another person again somewhere. And if you really wish to talk, you can call me at my number.”

“Strange! Don’t you feel like calling me?”

“Probably not. I mean you won’t understand. It is some 8^th sense.”

“You are a great philosopher.” Giggles…the same one.

“May be…:aisa hi hun main. OK leave now.”

“OK bye! Have a great day ahead. Will call you sometime.”

Pankaj walks and walks tall staring at sky, as he usually does.

Somewhere, Chitra ji is singing…

“Mere jaise ban jaaoge, tab ishq tumhe ho jayega……Tum bhi ghar der se aaoge
Jab ishq tumhe ho jayega”

Pankaj can not be that… life goes on, a new sojourn, a new platform.

A dew drops on hot road....and vanishes.Music plays.

The importance of being grotesque …

7^th Jan, 2010…

“Ehh, Collingwood sucks. 40 runs off 189 balls. Snails are dying of contempt. Damn!! It is pathetically pathetic.”

 The operator inside my mind starts rolling his film; I am in to my memory lanes.

Someday, March 2001,

“Ehh, this teacher sucks. Three and a half out of hundred. Life is too tough after taking his papers.”

Every day, sometime, somewhere,

“Papa is a bit too strict; he always says NO and never ever bothers about us. He himself is 41 but looks older than 50. How weird?”

BELIEVE me, it is not at all important who said this, when did he/she said this. Even if you won’t, hardly matters.

By the way, for fellas not knowing Collingwood, he is a subtle English batter. In a country where class is not permanent, he stands as a pole.

Anyway, not going in to Styne-Colly war, come back to consciousness.

Just think for a couple of seconds. And you will get to know, yeah, your experience also says the same.

So, there are people who are destitute, average, commonly common, unpleasing and to a large extent UGLY.

But is it not important to have ugly people in life?

I remember…

Ohh, by the way, I have a bad habit. I remember a lot.

Yeah, so what…yes!!!

I remember once someone asked Glen Mcgrath, the only man on the planet who can bowl at the same place for years and decades without failing, “Who is the batsman you find most abrade, difficult and demoralizing to bowl to?”

“Sachin, Inzamam, Lara are quite good and so is our Punter but the person I find most annoying is Dravid.”

 “Why so?” was the next question.

“You come with desire and full strength and you are on target but he is unmoved (mentally), unfazed, as dedicated as a kingfisher, as calm as an Indian yogi and lo and behold… All the laws of momentum get lost in his calm wrist. The leather rocketed with 145 KMPH could not roll 3 meters after kissing his willow.”

“But then he does not score’s at a menacing pace, right?”

---------------------------------

Are you, any of you, of such opinion?

Let me discard the very same thought, as did Glen. I do not remember his words, thanks to power cut in our hostel. So, I’ll put it in my words.

He does and he does that in style.  He is like glue which holds the clay together and allows it to take any shape, mostly meaningful and beautiful.

When a father takes pain day and night, when he burns his age in to the hassle scintilla of life, the children get alluring light.

When people like Collingwoods and Dravids play ugly, beautifuls like Pietersens and Yuvrajs get to open up.

No building is completed without staining hands with dirt and mud. Behind every superhero’s costume there are several weavers spinning and knitting day and night non-stop..

Yes, it is important to be ugly, to be grotesque.

It is more important to respect their being, their importance and their value.

To end, this is for the finest, if not the best cricketer of all time:

With my hands down,
I delved in this cosmos.
It seemed futile and brown,
Then something linger came across.
It were you,
you vindicated my choice.
I yearned you and I earned you.
I had a hue for you,
and why should one not have,
when such a class you possess.
In every ditch,
you made a niche.
You are the only to remain on the pitch.
For your being on the crease I never prayed,
It was useless because you never betrayed.
A true leader, a true man,
You stay quiet, as you can.
May world argue, may they debilitate,
The sun may not rise,
It might not rain.
Despite of every harbinger,
there would be a man.
At least to clap, to stand, to praise,
You and your game.
One more scintillating drive,
DRAVID ONCE MORE

NOTE: This poem was written by me quite some time back. But it is still fresh and has exactly same relevance.                                                                                          
Glen Mcgrath has been one of the most accurate fast-medium bowlers in cricketing history, from Australia.

126 minutes of disappointment...

Things are getting sticky these days. I mean life has slowly metamorphosed to a sandwich. Can not grill it too much, neither can gulp it as such.

It is not even a hunky-dory; it is a stark loose-loose situation.

It was again that after a dozen of bootless hours I went on to put RAAVAN (the movie) on roll. I am not a 75 mm guy and hence have no problem with any number of “Thok de killi” sort of rag and nettles.

Ctrl key you know; I love that.

I have high regards for Mani Ratnam and Gulzar. I was also having lot of hopes from Rensil to repeat another Rang De Basanti after killing us by LUCK. Did anyone see that?

If you ever get a feeling to kill someone brutally please drop a DVD of LUCK in to his/her belongings. Even Samba is not as poisonous as the after affects LUCK will leave.

Anyway, let us keep the past perils aside and come to Raavan, the epic…. Acclaimed.

The film starts with a stone falling from a hilltop which is exactly 4 times the height junior Bachchan has.

Junior AB chased the same but the stone outsmarted him….and did so in the whole movie. Had I known that, I’d have not continued.

Now, with no prejudice and bias I was watching the movie because internally I am OK with Abhishek. He is good if not as good as SRK.

The movie starts from nowhere (most of such storylines starts from same or similar place) but unfortunately end nowhere as well….aaraghghhh

Beera (played by AB) is a messiah or a devil (only Mani knows) in a jungle; A rain forest.

He did absolutely nothing to display that he is a Ravan, I mean the 10 heads and stuff. A very local tribal rouge he looks and plays. Killing a dozen cops bare handed is easier that erasing a pencil written 420 from the collar of your friend’s shirt. Haven’t bollywood movies taught this for years and decades?

What was Ravan like in that? Grover has done this for number of times he has yawned.

Poor stuff Mr. Mani!!!

I am utmost disappointed.

Now coming to the art/acting part.

Why the hell these bollywood people think that acting means making faces, kidnapping girls (for girls it is asking their right to work), living in and saying “bakbakbakbakbak” … ehhh ugly, extremely ugly that is.

AB you were real good, rather wow (as Saif would have said) in Dostana or for that matter in DELHI-6..Masakkali

But this was sheer disappointment… I wont see next two movies of your. That is an intense promise.

(Aish)warya playing Ragini or whatever. I must be pardoned for missing her name as she is the one and only. Ever graceful and gorgeous, she has taken her weak role sort of successfully.

Anyone seen Aparichit/Aparichitadu?

Anyone? Any hands up?

No one…??

Do not watch now.

You will feel sorry about the distance Vikram has come from there.

He was a beauty, a delight, a star, stunning to watch and Mani has done him an Aaditya Pancholi of 90s.

The only good thing is his physique but that too is of no use as he is continuously thrashed by Beera.

Ehhh…. I feel cheated.

Same sister…same loving brother… same police..violence… same revenge but no it was a Mani Ratnam movie, something was to be different.

And that is the end….. Whooooppp

Square, triangle, cone, sphere

Ravan , Ravan everywhere.

And if this was little, here comes ever pathetic Govinda (his new avatar is pathetic for me) to dissipate you.

I am dead.

A very dear friend of mine once said, man Illairaja is a great composer but do not know why idiots get Oscars. I found truth in his words when Rahman got the same for Jai ho.. whatever.

But after this, I am sure. I second you my friend.

Had Rekha Bhardwaj not given her heart and soul to Ranjha Ranjha…….. I would have declared it as the worst album of my life.

But not all was gloomy……

Kudos to Ravi Kishan, you can watch the complete movie for him. So what if he has a very small share on the screen.

And now come the best.

Santosh Sivan, the man who deserve all round of applause. A great work he has done and you will see the Indian Pandora from the eyes of his camera. Stunning cinematography is a thing for which you can really kill your 126 minutes watching Raavan and you will enjoy the locations.

Though I am a very generous at marking, this would be my take (out of 10):

Junior AB- 2

Vikram- 2+2 (for his biceps only)

Aishwarya- 5 (for she is never aging)

Govinda- Can I have negative integers here?

Ravi Kishan- 9 (Excellent dude)

A R Rahman- 4 (Expectations are high from you)

Rensil- 10 (Read it with a minus, you did your worst…. you can not do poor than this,    gurr)

Mani- 2 (Just for his reputation)

Shyam Kaushal- 0 (What action, was there any?)

Sabyasachi Mukherjee- 7 (Created true Raavan, a very nice attempt)

Santosh Sivan- 10 on 10

So, all in all it is one of the perfect examples of poor thinking and even poorer execution.

Watch it if you wish to see Santosh’s hard work.

Watch it if you have no bad blood with Ravi Kishan.

Watch if you too are fed up with India-Sri Lanka cricket matches which are more frequent in offing than you have breakfast (or for the same, I miss).

But yes, that is absolute killing of our 126 minutes… Mrs. Mani, listening?

Are you?

To complete… it is not an epic of good against evil.

The movie is evil, evil and devil.

You may well have a different, even opposite opinion but I can not take such black colored pieces.

Life needs heroes, need Rams and light in life. And even if Raavan, its got to be the brighter side of him.

 On a closing note, Mr. Mani, you almost did a Ramgopal Verma ki Aag (though I’ve only heard about that epic).

Gimme my 126 minutes back, can you?

Thank you Laxman Sylvania

Today I matched Christian Bale.

Ok ok, don’t frown. Drop your eyebrows.

My age matched his waistline in Machinist. Seen the movie?

No!

Don’t see if you are happy with life.

And please help yourself with a DVD/torrent download if you feel otherwise.

It has every plug-ins to detonate your mind.

Anyway, coming back, it’s my birthday today, the day I never laurel. I do not stand antipodal though with any disrespect as well.

It’s just that I do not feel like a star that has done too much. I still have to unhook many knots and the time is running.

Being true to myself, I was never a kid at heart. Let me remember again, naah, nix.

Probably born a bit too ripe, adolescence is a virtue which never palpated me. I was never a fish to be caught.

Still I have some DD memories to share; DD memories mean Memories from DoorDarshan:

Growing through The streets of Malgudi (pardon the usage, Malgudi is not just a place, it is now a way of thinking) from R K Narayanan's novel turn TV serial I dreamt of dhotis and dust. Remember Swami and friends…ta na na nana nanana.

Never ever tasted amul’s milk but was a true amul boy when Siddharth Kak said Amul boy and the background score was “Amul, the taste of Indiaaaaa”

You can enshrine Siddharth Kak, right?

Never seen sanskrutik patrika SURABHI?

Damn, you missed the life, the faith, the divinity of DD and most of all, the beaming smile of ever gorgeous Renuka Shahane. I waited and waited and simply waited to see her say, “Siddharth ji, ab darshakon se vidaa lene ka samay aa gaya hai. To Surabhi ki poori team ki or se NAMASKAAR”.

Opps! That Namaskar! That was simply the best moment of the evening.

Byomkesh babu may not look like Zoro in his attire; he was not a bit too young as well.

His wife wrapped in a traditional Bengali white sari (that too not starched) was not having an engineered body like Aruna Shields. You know Aruna Shields. No? Google for her. PRINCE is of course the Choate movie to miss. No harm if you have not seen it.

But still, Byomkesh babu along with his small handheld torch and background music of crickets chirping was a delight to watch.

I liked my school, and did I Gayatree mantra and Hanuman chalisa but more that that I loved “Mile sur mera tumhara”

Especially Mausami Chaterjee in……….

Toma mora swarer milan srishti kare chalbochatano

I still love this…probably more than Veer loved Zara.

Don’t start blaming me every now and then, I have not read any Romeo-Juliet. I can simply quote bollywood.

And just to watch that, till Jitendra runs in, in white, I always got up early.

Who says TV defaces children?

I loved the kid saying, gaao na didi……….

Ek chidiya, anek chidiya…

For years Duck Tales was an Indian show for me, till I get to know that it is a dubbed product from Disneyland.

Still I hope, if I was Launchpad McQuack, I would have avoided many suffering the Scrooge family had to face.

Though never seen it, I loved counting the never ending number of episodes Swabhimaan aired.

Now there are no more Moglis and Alices. No Shanti at 4 PM, when I returned from school. No one sings Alif lailaa with a couple of extra aaa…….. But you are still there sitting in a corner of my room.

You knew only two colors viz. black and white, still did your best to make me feel green, yellow and pink.

Thanks for being my best friend for longest span. Thank you LAXMAN SYLVANIA.

NOTE: LAXMAN SYLVANIA was the first Black & White TV we owned and it was till then (1988-2009), that I loved TV. No more affection to channels these days. I’ve always been a DD person.

To Her, With Love...........

“Raj! Main tumhare sath nahi aa saktee. Mujhe maaf karna, mujhe Surinder Ji me apna rab dikhta hai” Anushka Sharma from Rab Ne Bana di Jodi was saying this to SRK. I mean Raj.

I’ve seen this movie number of times Jumbo has taken five wickets in an inning. You know Jumbo, right? Anil Kumble.

Leave it; having seen it so many times, I’m almost emotionless at this scene now.

But today, I had nothing to do and this bomb detonated spontaneously in my mind.

I mean Surinder!

It is OK for girls to die for Rajs, Vijays, Rahuls, Aruns, Ajays and Prems but Surinder?

Ehh, how can someone say this?

Hey Tani ji (Anushka), you are too brave to spell this dialogue.

No offence to Surinders and Harvinders but seriously, it is not at all having MACHO.

 There were times when Sulekha/Sulochna and Pyaremohan/Parimal had been the most sought after pairs in the town.

But for the past lifetime (Of course my lifetime) we have never seen such pairs.

Neither on reel nor off it.

I’ve never seen a Raj loosing such combats of love in my entire bollywood/Hollywood/tollywood career. OK, agreed it has been a viewer’s career and that too a pretty small one.

Still I can ingest that but no way from some Surinder.

Till time I loved my name very much and thanked my dad to give me such a manly name.

But looking at this, forget Avinash even Champakbhumia is not a safe word nowadays.

Envisage some pretty voice saying “Champakbhumia, would you please be my fewer half?”

Ehhhhhh…..

By the way, you know what a fewer half mean.

Don’t you?

Any lady over there, please help the poor boy(s).

Can anyone out there please help me in changing my name officially? Don’t worry I’ve decided over it. It’s got to be EUCALYPTUS.

Hopefully that is safe name for a decade.

Thanks Tani ji for opening my eyes, thank you so much for making me cognizant with the latest development in name book at Venus.

With lots of love (of course brotherly) ……. We must clarify this at the earliest these days.

NOTE: If anyone finds any word from this piece as objectionable I’ll pull it off. No hard feelings intended, it is just a bubble of thoughts I moved one of my pages through.

It’s corporate..It’s possible

1:30 PM IST, some day.

“Hello! This is Svetlana from ABC accountants. I wanted to tell you about our new investment offers. Do you have some time sir?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I am not interested.”

“No problem sir, but you can at least hear what we have to offer. I won’t take very long.”

“See it would waste your time as well, I said I’m not interested. Not at all.”

“Don’t worry sir, it’s our job.”

20 minutes of Singhalese for a Hindi native, Niraj was exhausted. Hardly matters if it was Niraj, Dheeraj or Prafull.

“Yes sir, so see.” SEE? OVER PHONE? You kidding lady? After this entire tantrum?

“Yeah, I see. But still, I am not interested.”

“What? Sir, you can’t do this. (Really? Why?) You know how discouraging  it is? One feels devastated when you say a simple no after all this toiling effort.”

“Hey! But I told you earlier that it is a waste of time. I can’t take this offer”

“Fine sir! Thanks for giving your time, may be it’s not my day.”

It’s not my day either, lady. Huh.

4:45 PM, IST, same day.......

“Hello Sir! This is Svet….”

Damn! I know you devil of the day. “Yes, please go ahead.”

“We have another offer for you.”

Eeeeeeeeee… I’ll die.

“See Miss, I’ve already said no.”

“No problem sir. Can you just provide some details?”

It was not a question, certainly not.

“Go ahead, ask.” You won’t let me live. I love isolation. Can’t we have no telephones all over again.

“Sir! Your name”

Winston Churchil … huh

“Niraj Awasthi”

“Age?”

Damn! Why is it not offensive to ask a man’s age?

“23… will be turning 24 soon” Do you know cooking pasta? I’m looking for a pasta maker maid. Did you thought wife? Insane girl.

“You are so young sir.” And fool as well.

“Thanks! What else?”

“Do you already have a credit card?”

“Yes I’ve.”

“Which one? What are the facilities you are provided with?”

“It’s a good one, a simple card with cash back offer and decent credit limit.” They say it a platinum card. Platinum, aaraghgh..How I was trapped last time?

“See sir, our policy is not to say bad for others but…. SORRY I CAN NOT TYPE THAT 3 TONNE OF GARBAGE”

“OK, but still I am currently not willing to take that. I’ll contact you very soon if I require any such service.” Cut it off lady, I am done. Why NOKIA batteries last so long? For this?

“No problem sir! Give it a try and if you don’t like you can always go back. It’s easy, simple and cheap.”

Of course it’s not your problem, it’s mine.

“OK, what I shall do?” I give up lady, accept my slavery.

“An identity proof, a photograph and a rent reciept for yourself and your wife.”

“Wife? What?”

“Yes sir! This is a couple’s offer.”

“But I am still single. So, may be I am not suited for this. Thanks for your time. All the best!” Yuhu, I am spared. Go away girl. Get away. I am a proud bachelor.

“No problem sir.” You are yourself a problem.

“Hmm, I understand. Bye.”

“Wait sir! You don’t need to worry. I am writing your wife’s name as Priya or Diya. Please ask someone to verify this when we do a verification call. I’ll take her number from you tomorrow. It is easy.” 

“What? I shall arrange a fake corporate wife?”

“No big deal sir. She has to reply just once.”

“No, I can’t. I do not have a friend who can do this. Sorry, I can not do this.”

“No problem sir. Keep my personal number. It’s……”

“Hey! Why?”

“If someone enquires you, just say your wife’s name is Shweta and give my number. I will say that yes we were married 6 months ago.”

“What?” Corporate wife, heaven, why don’t you fall?

Niraj is yet to recover from coma while Miss. S is planning some corporate kids with Dheeraj.

No offence to her as it’s a part of her neck grueling job.

Anything is possible here. Welcome to corporate.

Courtesy: Mahesh, a dear friend. :)

Osama, Bermuda Triangle, life on Mars…..huh!!!

The US government has spent more dollars finding Osama than I have White blood corpuscles. That is true Di.

Hey! Di is the only doctor I know these days.

Though mighty is a big word and I use this word only for Chandragupta’s empire but yes, USA stands very near to qualify for that adjective. Still, they could not locate the man who provided them a rise in the water table. This isn’t a joke; we can still hear families crying.

Why some wounds can never be healed?

That man stands with almost nothing in that dry dusty land. When I say nothing, its’ not literal, it is relative to what these super powers have.

Relative, hmm , relativity. Thank you! Mr. Einstein. Not only science, you helped me in many ways.

 Laden has 90 thousand wives, he is 6 ft 3 inches tall, his 59^th child has recently married a Russian and he has rajma-rice in lunch. We know everything, yeah everything about him but not his whereabouts. He is still missing, hiding, teleported…. Ehh, whatever.

So, it seems to be impossible task 1 in the offing.

Bermuda, not the island, I am talking of mysterious Bermuda triangle in the great North Atlantic. The black water has a black history which every never been to sea “sea adventure” writer has quoted at least once in his books. Devil’s triangle has suspended all the laws of physics.

Spectaculars have used their imagination to that extent that if you ask them they can lay eggs. Don’t you believe? Read their theory of magnetism and cyclones. Wow! Amazingly amazing….maybe they should write RACEII. They would do good, really good. Twist and turn, you know what I mean?

Those with less brain and more solar cells use calculators to prove that this is a much less accident prone place and “all the characters and plots in this story are fictitious and any relation with living or non-living will be considered mere co-incidence”. See, those who say I do not see movies with concentrations. Who said it once?

But sadly, Bermuda triangle remains far from main land. All curtains are yet to be raised.

Third chapter, indeed a tougher one. Out of this world.  Jadoo, Jacqueline Fernandez, pardon me if I spelt you wrong but may be you guys know it better.

Did Mars ever had water, or even traces of it? Don’t tell me those marks are an excellent design of your floor furnishing. I would not take that crap. Ok Ok. So what if we send pathfinder, so what if we are still studying the pictures and sample. So what if ever Friday we get 3 alien sci-fi and only ½ SRK love story at theatres.

We still don’t have any such evidences. Oh, have we? None, not a single one. Had we succeeded, Mrs. Jolly and Mr. Mallya would have reached there till now. I am not too sure about the Kingfisher calendar 2011. Does Mars have beaches?

Unanswered, is the common thread between all these three. At least till date. Lots of Science, Geography and Politics. Let’s move on to some sports.

Some sports? What sports? If it is India, it’s got to be cricket, ironically or happily, truth is always truth.

Season 2004-05, visiting Sri Lanka crushed and squeezed our bowlers. Huh, they are squeezed more than my mum squeeze’s lemon. 298 was something to achieve in cricket, if not very difficult. But it was not cricket at all. Dravid send in a soccer player look alike baseball player, ehh ugly. And it was just a joke after that. He deposited the white lather in every fort of Jaipur.

Season 2006-07, thanks to our death bowlers and tiger fielders, lesser thanks to a fine century by Shoaib Malik and his partnership with Abdur Razzak Pakistan notched 295. With others incapable and Dravid snailing, Sachin tried to do that again. He has reduced the margin of loss for us innumerable times over 20 years. Hasn’t he? What if we lose matches as soon as he departs leaving half a run to walk through? This time, the asking rate was thunderous 9.5 and that too for 9-10 overs and Sachin departed. It was all but over till his baseball willow walloped. He grinded, he churned, he thumped, he cruised, he hoisted, he butchered, he thwacked and whatever. I turned all the pages of cricketing shots and I could find none there which he played. I could not find them in baseball learner’s guide as well.

Year 2007, Joginder Sharma and S Sreesanth, whom the girls of my colony will not allow to play with them, were in his out of the blues team. Uthappas bowled, Yuvrajs roared and he came back with the trophy for which even Bangladesh was more in contention.

Year 2010, he promised Dalai Lama that he will not be involved in any violent activity but the world saw a massacre at Dharmashala. He sent those grenades over snow peaks and a couple of new glaciers are routing to Indian plain. 45 runs in a span of 14 balls.

Tonight it was again the same old worrier Sachin moving well. But this time he had in opposition the man with a luck line longer than Amazon, made from pure gold. He waited for the pressure to crop and master to depart and then expanded his cob web. Another trophy, huh.

The game has seen many worriers, even legends like Sachin, Dravid and Ponting but at a point they have returned down. But this man, if he has a not out against his name everyone knows the result and there is no exception to this rule.

I wonder if cricket would have been an individual’s game…. Thank god it’s not.

Yes, he is ugly and has yet to go long way. But why am I telling all this?

Rewind………………………………………..back now.

If someone can catch Osama, if someone can find out the mystery of Bermuda and the traces of water over Mars, it is MSD. The one and only Mehendra Singh Dhoni.

Hey people, make him do the matrix stuff before his stars get displaced. Admitting that he is the most ill skilled player I’ve ever seen, he has a bulldozer in his arms and a sand dune inside his mind.

The Napoleon, the captain courageous is back, not to conquer, not to enhance numbers, just to turn tides when every odds are stacked against him.

Nov. 2024, ……. Sirius galaxy.

MSD from milky way has won the war of comets with a whooping strike rate of 170. Notably his army had only 6 rabbits. Believe it or not!