If you want to enter into a long distance relationship, immediately consider joining a – phone company – like Vodafone or Airtel or get yourself adopted by a millionaire.
Remember those women whom you thought had the perfect eyebrows? Not all of them are natural, ok? They apparently get their eyebrows PLUCKED!!!! (Whatever that means, I presume something like plucking an apple off a tree or plucking feathers off a chicken)
If you want to enjoy the beauty of women, in general and objectively, do not enter into a relationship. ‘Cause, soon you will start finding flaws in those women, who were your Dream girls even a few days back. For example, Audrey Hepburn was too skinny, Ingrid Bergman was too tall, Smita Patil died too early, Marilyn Monroe was a blonde, Chitrangada Singh doesn’t look as vivacious off screen as she appears on screen, Deepika Padukone is too young, etc etc.
Do not try to hide things from your girl – she will find them anyways and if she doesn’t, she will torture you till you start regretting the moment you were born and will anyways blurt things out.
Do not blurt out whatever you think to her – she might make you lament over it.
If the last two statements seem contradictory, don’t worry, there will be loads of double standards and contradictions. Just learn to live with them and even better, try to enjoy them, like the sacrificial lamb who keeps on chewing grass (the green variety) happily till the moment it is sacrificed.
It is not that difficult to open up your feelings in front of someone.
Do not expect to hear the magic four letter word too often from her, try acting like a Bedouin in a desert – savour the occasional rain and don’t crib that you are not in Cherrapunji.
Whatevershe owns, belongs to her, whatever you own also belongs to her. (If she swears that she has not flicked any material belongings of yours, I guess she is completely overlooking the abstract, irreplaceable varieties.)
When she says no, sometimes she means yes, and vice versa.
Always give undivided attention to her and don't crib that she is not giving it to you – if you complain she is going to kill you.
Don’t fret, if you suddenly realize that you are not as good a photographer as you thought yourself to be or not that smart a guy as people claim you are – it is just a natural progression.
People will start saying that you are becoming an ‘anti-social’ – don’t worry, they are right – but you can’t do anything about it.
If she is cribbing about something, maybe she is not that much bothered by it and it does not make sense to get overtly worried about it just yet – but well, try saying that to her and you have just signed your death warrant.
Never try to get one upon her ever, she knows your weak points – you are going to lose anyways- the earlier you learn to surrender, the better for you and you will be at peace with yourself.
Start working out and learning lots of stuff – she‘ll expect you to be a porter, an accountant, a cook, a financial consultant, an engineer, an electrician, a plumber, a lawyer and a mercenary – all combined into one.
Do not over-react or show that you are jealous if she says that she has a crush on somebody, she may just be testing you, but again- do not act too stoic, she might kill you for being that. However, as advised earlier, DO NOT EVEN TRY TO PULL THIS STUNT over her, unless you want to spend the rest of your life repenting or sipping water and liquid food through a straw.
If you are dating a literature student, do not try to act funny by deliberately writing wrong English – she may not see the funny side of it.
Gifting her a DVD of the Korean version of My Sassy Girl is a great way of committing suicide, cause after effects may not be nice - she might get new, innovative ideas :).
If she is complaining that you are not being fair or just, she basically means that you are not giving her a free reign to do whatever she wants to do.
It is possible to talk for 3 hours on phone followed by 5 hours of chatting over the net for one month straight at the end of which, even though she will probably be tired of your very existence, you keep on wishing that the days had more than 24 hours so that you could talk or chat for a few hours more with her.
Texting over phone is not that strenuous on your fingers, depending on the person you are messaging.
She might kill you anyways, but that does not mean you ignore what I have been blurting out for so long. Haven’t you heard this before?– Better be safe than sorry.
You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks above? All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls. You will notice that one of your personalities is seduced by the illusions of grandeur - the gold packet of king size with a regal insignia, an attractive implication towards grandeur and wealth, the subtle suggestion that cigarettes are indeed your royal and loyal friends, and that, is a lie. Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion, written in boring bold black and white, it's a statement that these neat little soldiers of death are in fact trying to kill you and that, is the truth. Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and i'm addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren. That that starts sweet ends bitter, and that which starts bitter ends sweet.
I want to write a sonnet or at least a cento; set it into a solemn and melancholy tune, learn how to play the guitar; sit in a vast empty space resting my back against a Baobab tree- maybe on the edge of a crevice (possibly, the Grand Canyon) at dawn or dusk - facing the expanse and sing it aloud - all the while listening closely to the echo emanating from across the horizon. I want to wait for the trees and sky to droop down on me; embrace me and comfort me on my state of mind. I fancy a nightingale or a cuckoo to reciprocate my music by singing back in an even more poignant note. At this point of time, I desire to mellow down my voice reducing it to just a careless whisper and gape unabashedly (even to the extent of appearing lewd) at the beauty of this world and marvel at the spectacle called Life.
Today, I cast vote for the first time in my life. It’s not that I had been ineligible to wield the only power provided to me by the democracy of our country earlier. Just that I did not have my election id and every time the election process happened, I was invariably outside my home town – either in Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, Darjeeling, Chennai – etc etc – I have indeed been a frequent flier (or, ‘rail’er?). Finally, after almost 7 years of being eligible and casually frittering away this super-power, I finally set my foot down.
There were exactly 17 candidates – only No. 2 and No. 4 being the major contenders. The others were I guess dummy or were just vying to prove their nationality in politics. The last candidate was a genuinely independent candidate, though I guess, he just filed his nomination cause he had Rs. 10,000 to spare or ‘cause he wanted his name to come out in the newspapers – or maybe he is genuinely sympathetic to the cause of the people and wanted to bring forth a change. The entire repertoire of symbols was hilarious to say the least – other than the customary national and local party symbols, there was a burning fire, a clock, an elephant, a cricket bat, a farmer and what not. I glanced through the entire list searching frantically for a particular symbol – not to vote, but to have fun. One of my friends told me that one of the independent candidates in his constituency brandished a symbol of Batman. I frantically searched for the capped crusader of Gotham City, but sigh maybe the capped crusader thought that he should give my constituency a miss – well, I guess then we do not have anyone to shield us from the antics of the Riddler or the evil of the Joker. I still did not lose hope and kept roving through the list, if not Batman, at least Superman or He-man – or at least the Wonderwoman – nope – no one – just no one – all the super heroes and heroines gave our constituency a miss. I can’t blame them; I guess they just got confused with the delimitation.
I must say, the entire hullabaloo about the indelibility of the election ink seemed completely farcical. As soon as it was applied on my finger, I just rubbed it; the ink gave way and lo and behold I was theoretically eligible for another round of voting!!! (I used Quink ink after coming back home, just to take this pic)
Jokes apart – the entire process got over in 2-3 minutes flat and I finally came out beaming – patting myself on the back for finally being able to prove my citizenship ; being able to contribute something for the cause of our nation’s democracy and also for finally being able to lose my 'poll'itcal virginity!!!
A good many wives are not tender and good. Some men keep them constantly in hot water; others let them freeze by their carelessness and indifference. Some keep them in a stew with irritating ways and words. Some husbands keep them pickled, while others waste them shamefully. It cannot be supposed that any wife will be tender and good when so managed, but they are really delicious when prepared properly.
In selecting a wife, you should be guided by the silvery appearance as when buying a mackarel and not by the golden tint as if you wanted some salmon. Do not go to the market for her as the best ones are always brought to the door. Be sure to select her yourself as tastes differ.It is far better to have none unless you will patiently learn how to cook yourself.
Of course, preserving a kettle of the finest porcelain is best, but if you have nothing better than an earthenware pippin, it will do - with a little care. Like crabs and lobsters, wives are cooked alive. Sometimes they fly out of the kettle and do so become burnt and crusty on the edges. So it is wise to secure her in the kettle with a strong silken cord called Comfort. Prepare a clear, steady flame of love, warmth and cheerfulness. Set her as near this as seems to agree with her.
If she sputters, do not be anxious, for some wives do this until they are quite done. Add a little sugar in the form of what confectioners call kisses, but use no pepper or vinegar on any account. Season to taste with spices, good humour and gaiety preferred, but seasoning must always be with great discretion and caution. Avoid sharpness in testing her for tenderness. Stir her gently, lest she lie too flat and close to the kettle and so become useless. You cannot fail to know when she is done. If so treated, you will find to know when she is done. If so treated, you will find her very digestible, agreeing with you perfectly and she will remain the way as long as you choose , unless you become careless and slow the home fires to grow cold. Thus prepared, she will serve a life time of happiness!
Contents in refrigerator - Rice, Pickle, Ketchup, Mustard, Squash, a 4 KG tin of Jam (picked up enthusiastically by me from Metro Cash and Carry Store), Imli paste – that’s about it.
Well, would you blame me if I say that in order to have supper, I actually need to cook? I do not like cooking for myself – I’d drink water and go off to sleep rather than start the entire process of cooking – It’s not that I hate cooking – just that don’t like taking the pain of cooking for myself alone.
Who would explain this to someone? This person actually threatened me with dire consequences if I did not have a proper meal.. Poor me – If I wanted a meal wouldn't I have actually gone to the two wedding receptions I had been invited to attend tonight?… I was not hungry. Actually, in retrospect, I had not helped my cause by letting her know that I did not have a proper meal over the weekend (not much… OK, nothing – fine??). Well, I did have lots of water and some leftover soft drinks. Still, when you are threatened, you need to take some steps.
So, I did the easiest thing I could do under such circumstances – I went out bought 2 eggs with an intention to prepare something (well, no credit to me, even this was suggested by someone- the egg part)… What could I cook? Hmm… there was an onion, salt, oil, rice and two eggs – Bingo – Egg fried rice and to go with it – ketchup.
Yes, yes… I am a great cook – I looked with awe as I prepared the entire thing in 4 mins flat – (Well, for an obvious reason, I used minimal oil – practice for future). Was a little nervous though before I actually tasted the bizarre looking product – But, hey believe me, it actually tasted damn good- Borrowing unabashedly from one restaurant I passed by few days back, which screamed – ‘We serve Yummy Yummy food’, I should say it was truly yummy food. Now am proud of my culinary skills - A note to my employers – Beware the next time, you threaten me with recession, I have an alternate profession well chalked out …
So, all of you, whom I pity ‘cause you cannot taste my delicious food – let me be and let me enjoy the egg fried rice with ketchup as I watch my favourite team being decimated in the IPL...Adios Amigos
I had gone to this gathering of high society people on an invitation – no idea why I was invited there – maybe people still have faith on youth and get inspired when they see fresh blood. Well, that’s about it, cause am sure, I had not contributed much to the meeting. Anyways, one way I gained from the meeting was that I got to know that two of my articles have come out in a published book. Feels good J. The two articles are titled – (1) South-East Asia in India’s Look East Policy – Emerging Trends and (2) India-Malaysia Relations – the Road Ahead. With regards to the second article I am indebted to this great lady from Malaysia – Puan Janaky Athi Nahappan. She had given me a great overview of her country and had triggered my interest in Malaysia. She is a celebrity there and her contribution to the formation of the MalaysianRepublic is colossal. I was honoured to be in touch with her on her visit to Kolkata, a few years back.
Till today evening, I had no idea that the two articles had actually been published in a book of compilations and a when a professor who had the book showed it to me, I was overjoyed. I opened the book, checked the contents and there was my name printed in bold letters :). Well, even though I must admit that such articles are not my forte, I tried my hand in writing them and feels quite nice actually to see your name in printed letters. Imagine the situation - an entire team of people- wasted precious paper, ink, time, money and man-power to publish the shit I wrote and then, theoretically some poor souls wasted their parents' hard earned money to actually read what I wrote. It's like - I have sent an entire team of people on a wild goose chase, by spending a few hours writing these few pages of stuff - the very thought is quite heady - I must say....
However, my joy was short-lived, when on checking my details at the end of the articles; I realized that the biggest mistake which has been committed by the publishing house is that - they have missed a dot between my name and surname while declaring my email id. “The author can be reached at (a wrong email id)” Sob Sob. Now no one can actually mail me and let me know how they feel about the articles.
On second thoughts, maybe, just maybe, the publishing house did the mistake deliberately – Probably they thought that the articles are so trashy, that the only e-mails the guy is going to receive would be hate mails (or maybe e-shoes – now that throwing shoes is a big fashion- maybe in a few years time, it may replace bowling as middle-aged people’s favourite pass-time). So, in order to save me the blushes, the ever-sympathetic publishing house subtly removed the dot from my email id. Now some poor guy with no fault of his will be receiving hate mails because of me. I’m Loving it.
I just came to know that empty beer bottles fetch you Rs 2.50 each. That means if I can collect 20 beer bottles, it would fetch me a cool Rs. 50 note. Hmm – so if I buy 20 beer bottles, it would mean that the 21st one comes absolutely free, plus I may get another free cause of bulk purchase… How cool is that? If only such offers were there in examinations… You answer 20 questions and the marks for 21st one is absolutely free, without any effort of yours.. sigh!! if only this analogy worked….
If one wants to, he’d probably be able to excel in anything. With the right amount of inspiration and oodles of perspiration, nothing should be unachievable to anyone. However, they say, it’s always lonely at the top. Once you have exceeded yourself with your last ditch attempt, people tend to think that you have still not realized your potential and they start expecting greater things from you. Someone told me, “Taking into account the pitiable conditions you have been through during your University days and considering that as a handicap, you write as well as Somebody”. Now, that line, kick-started a chain-reaction, filling my mind with lots of dread and panic. Do not get me wrong – I do not hate adulation, in fact I dwell on them. I loathe praises, wouldn’t I be considered abnormal or hypocritical if I said, I am the Buddha – happiness or pain, fame or loathing – nothing affects me. Remember the words of the Joker – “I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it. You know, I just... do things.” That’s what we are – as long we can see the zenith, we strive and strive – risking everything that we care for to reach it – to achieve it. However, as soon as we reach the top, we are confused – we do not know what to do- whether to endeavour more (to attain what?? Cause we have already reached the peak) or to sit tight (which fills us with fear cause we know someone might soon catch us up.) So coming back to the point – It is indeed lonely at the top.
People who have read my earlier posts, are probably thinking by now – what the heck happened to this guy? Did he go nuts? Did he drop his funny bone in the gutter where he was lying drunk last night? Did he forget to do the only thing he excels at – Fooling around? NO NO NO, People – Have no fear, I am here. This elaborate paragraph I typed out above was just a platform to sweetly curse this phenomenon called Google. I can vouch for a fact that I can point out at least a 1000 people who would swear that Google has indeed changed their lives. I would never have been able to submit my projects in time (considering the fact that I had to do fifty 25-30 pager projects over a span of five years) without the assistance of Google. There is a junior of a friend of mine in Bangalore, who has been in the first year of college for the past 3 years. When we tried to counsel him and ask him what he does the entire day, whether he was having problems coping up – whether seniors were ragging him (that was a remote possibility, since by then, he was already way older in terms of age, experience as well as years spent in the college than even the Final year people- that’s the best thing about flunking thrice – you can boast to others that you are the only guy in first year not to be ragged by seniors)- he appeared pretty cool. “No problem, boss – it’s just that I do not have any time to study” No time to study!!!! He was not having an affair, he was not forming a company like Microsoft, he was not even into terrorism – any kind of decent explanation would be welcome – but someone who stays cooped up in his room the entire day, saying “No time to study!!” – Yeh baat kuch Hazaam nahi hui. Well, then he explains – he is addicted to G chat and Orkut – the two biggest phenomenon of Google. See- didn’t I tell you ‘Google changes lives’. Add to this Blogspot (now coming from the Google stable), Google Maps, Picasa, Youtube, Google Books, Google Scholar, Google Chrome, Google Talk (though I hate it cause it doesn’t have an invisible mode) and what not- Google has indeed been a phenomenon. It first showed us how to surreptitiously chat in office, while posing that you are simply checking your mail. Out of a hundred extremely plausible ways I could have met my girlfriend (for example, we both have skydived from two different skyscrapers and in the midway we meet each other OR like we are attempting to cross the English Channel – me from Dover and she from Calais and we both lift our head midway to suck in oxygen, bump into each other and still end up sucking air, though from a slightly different source – I could go on and on about more such plausible yet exotic ways of meeting, but that’s for another day), I finally get in touch with her through Google!!
That is why my expectations from Google are sky-high and I am always confident that it will always accede to my idiosyncrasies and invent a new tool every quarter which will help me kill time in an exciting manner. Also I always expect G mail to provide me the best of services, even better than my paid office mail service (come on, ain’t I talking about Expectations here? What does it have to do with paid or free service?). Thus I was shocked and flabbergasted when I enthusiastically opened G mail the other day to mail this girl and every time I tried to log in, Google mail would log into my account, but would show – ‘Temporary Error(500)’. What does the 500 stand for? Does it mean there are 500 errors or whether this temporary error shall remain for 500 days (then, how would it be ‘temporary’ in the first place?) Why do they give an error number?? As if I care? Well, after cursing Google for a long time, I finally opened up my yahoo account- I have had this account since 1999, but after the advent of Google, this has been terribly neglected – Poor Baby – tch tch – come to me – Who says I don’t use you – See, haven’t I logged into you and sending mails through you just now? (TO everyone – If you ever disclose the exact circumstances as to why I logged into my yahoo account and sent mail through yahoo, you are dead meat!! I do not want to hurt my trusted old friend – yahoo mail). Well, so I sent the mail through Yahoo!!
If any of you thought the story ends here – am sure you haven’t read enough novels and hence do not understand the concept of an epilogue. Next day I find out, that the mail had gone to a complete stranger, who shares the name with this girl whom I was sending mail. I blame Google for this too – since the time it started guessing e-mail ids as soon as I typed the first few alphabets of an e-mail id, I have stopped memorising e-mail ids – Thus when I had sent the mail from yahoo, I had missed a dot here and a hash there and lo and behold, mail went to someone else, who just sent a polite reply “Am flattered, but I guess this mail is not meant for me.” I thank my stars that I wasn’t being too explicit in the mail, or else I was done for. Phhoooh! What a relief!! Well, finally next day Google mail was up and running and even though I cursed G Mail for making me so dependent on it, I once again happily started typing out mails to one and all .
Ever since I passed out from University and entered my profession, I have been dreaming about this day – the day I would enter into a serious Panga with a policeman and then instead of stating “Pata hain mera baap kaun hai?” show off by saying “Pata hain main kaun huun?” Well, that is exactly what happened tonight. Had taken out car to purchase something – not getting into details about that… On my way back, I hit a bike – well it was not my fault entirely – they were at equal– if not greater fault….I get down from my car to get into a fight and guess what – there’s not one, but two police sergeants – they probably were out on a casual stroll at night and of all the people on the road, I manage to hit them.
Let me give you an advice, if you ever manage to hit a cop, NEVER tell them that they were at fault. Well, I was in the mood for panga and this was my dream come true situation, so in order to incense them, I shouted out – “Can’t you people see where you are going?” Maybe the policemen were in a mood to reach home fast, so probably they would have let me go with a warning normally, but this comment probably hurt their inflated ego and I could actually see their faces turn red. As soon as I made the smartass comment, the driver turned of the ignition of his bullet and the pillion rider came aggressively towards me- soon, followed by the driver. I could see blood in their eyes- they were ready to kill. Well, however, brave I may try to appear here, I must confess, when they actually charged towards my car – I was shit scared – Damn it – these were two 6 feet plus well-built cops after all and I had not only hit their bike, but also their pride. Could I have been in a bigger mess?
“Give me your Goddam licence and car papers, NOW” – the policeman almost roared…
Hey, interrupting for a moment here, are you sure I don’t sound like the two brothers in Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na – who deliberately tried to get into trouble so that they got arrested- in order to prove their mardangi in their community? I’ll make myself clear at this juncture, I had absolutely no intention of getting arrested – my intension was just to test whether uttering my the name of my profession actually gets me out of law and order trouble or not. Well, I like experimenting. Also I could take such a risk ‘cause I had solid back up plans – (a) this was near my house, so MY muhalla, (b) I know the Officer-In-Charge of the Police Station under whose jurisdiction I had hit these nincompoops, (c) I even know some high ranked police officers, if situation actually went out of hand, I could call them up, (d) I knew exactly what punishment could be meted out to me, which shouldn’t be much except for confiscation of my licence, (that is anyways expiring in a fortnight’s time) and (e) This is election time, maaan – people are roaming about scot-free after hurling their fata-futa shoe at the Prime Minister (well, about that, God knows how can they miss a person from a mere 10 feet distance!!) and I had not even hit the policemen, just their bike – how bad could it be ?
At that very moment, I brought out my trump card (I brought out my professional licence, which happens to be in the form of a card) – “Do you know who I am? And do you know what I can make out of this?” – I retorted. For a split second the sergeant stopped talking, I could see them debating in their mind about whether it was worth to take this far enough – they looked at each other – and then stared at me – one of them with a resigned look, another with a blank face (I could sense, he was contemplating what to say).. Those few seconds my heart stopped beating in excitement – Have I succeeded? Have I been able to get out of a fiasco by just strutting about my profession? Has my long-cherished dream turned into reality? I almost stopped breathing – the feeling was same like the time Misbah –ul-Haq- the last Pakistani wicket- hit Joginder Sharma towards fine leg in the last over of the World 20-Twenty Championship and Sreeshanth was getting underneath the ball to complete the catch. And, I must tell you, like the World Cup finals, even in this scenario, after the few seconds’ wait, I was almost over the moon, when the sergeant said – “Ok, letting you go this time, never repeat this ever again”.
Yes!!!- Done it!!!!!!! Slam Dunk!!!! Birdie!!!! Ace!!!!! And my joy knew no bounds – The entire ride back home I was not just driving on the road, I had the feeling of waltzing over the clouds…. So – Tick – one more fantasy turned to reality!!!!
I HAVE BAD TEETH. It is as official as saying Paris Hilton is dumb or that Scarlett Johansson is the hottest bitch around. Its not that they are just small or non-white or brittle or that they ache occasionally. What can I say if they are all three together? I can’t even imagine opening a beer bottle or a soft drink bottle with my teeth and watch in awe when my friends do that nonchalantly day in day out. Then there are some people with glistening and sparkling white teeth - the ones which ll tempt you to try to see your reflection in - Sigh - That pleasure is not for me. Nor do I dare to bite extremely hot or cold things with my teeth, unlike some friends who chew the sweet ice golas in sweltering summer heat. These evoke the feeling – “Kaash, apna teeth bhi aise hotey” – in fact there have been times when this particular thought has come across my mind when I have had books and bed covers chewed off by rats in hostel and the first reaction which came to my mind then was not “F%^&ing Rat”, but the Kaash wala statement. Imagine - even a rat giving me complex - how 'rat'tling is that? - How desperate do I sound? I remember going to this dentist first time in my life and this son of a gun made this wisecrack of a statement – “You have hypoplastic (what the heck does that mean, btw) teeth and you shall be lucky if you retain any of your teeth by the time you turn 30”. That was what you call a true blue scar – cause since then I have visited many dentists who have assured me that I have perfectly normal teeth – but the horrifying statement of the first dentist still rings in my mind – it’s like that feeling –women come and women go, but you never forget your first crush. Analogising, dentists came and dentists went, but I still remember the hypoplasty bugger’s comment. Well, one way he has helped me is that he has made me cautious and I NEVER monkey around with my teeth – I don’t bite people in jest, I don’t try opening bottles or try to crack a walnut with them to show off to women or French every other hot chick I meet (well, the last one is more due to lack of opportunity rather than care for teeth, but I would like to attribute it to my deep care for teeth). And every time I used to get a spanking from Dad or stood guard on the Free kick wall in soccer matches, waiting for the looming ball (soccer ball, you idiots), to hit me hard, there was only one particular part of my body I used to cover. Pervs, I ain’t mentioning about that spot – remember this post is about my teeth- hence I was obviously guarding my sensitive teeth. I must say that I take good care of my teeth – brush them twice a day with Oral B toothbrushes and Dabur Red toothpaste which has lots of medicinal qualities apparently, use Happydent chewing gums (Television claims “It really works” on all living animals including cows, the last word is significant – am sure the person concerned should understand), file them regularly and get them scaled every year. Still sadly, I don’t have the most shining of teeth. While watching the rerun of Friends (for the umpteenth time) on my comp, I suddenly chanced upon this episode where Ross bleaches his teeth – suddenly it struck me – hey why not – even I could do that (I have seen this episode quite a few number of times, don’t know why it did not strike me then). You won’t believe me, in proper Alchemist ishtyle, (the shit about entire world conspiring to help you achieve your goal), a very old and dear friend of mine, who is presently working in Johnson and Johnson lands from New Jersey after 13 years and presents me with you know what – a set of TEETH WHITENER strips, amongst other things. Now, tell me isn’t this just Providence- or else why would he present me with a Teeth Whitener along with the other plethora of gifts?? People don’t present old friends with Teeth Whitener just like that – am sure there must have been a hand of the Almighty in this… Anyways Rony, Thanks a lot for the gift.
Oh I also forgot to mention one more fact that I still don’t have wisdom teeth – have been waiting so long for them [:)]. The other day, my girlfriend called me up complaining that her wisdom teeth have finally decided to sprout – I could literally visualize her grimacing with pain – there was so much pain in her voice. Now, don’t get me wrong – am no sadomasochist and I would happily stay away from pain, but I could not help but feel jealous about the fact that she was experiencing this sweet pain of wisdom teeth coming out – am so desperate to complete my 32 set.. how else am I supposed to give out a full-fledged radiant smile with just 14 pairs of them?
So, finally today I summoned up the courage of testing the Teeth whitener- it takes about 30 minutes – those were the tensest 30 minutes of the year. Finally I took the strip out and beamed at myself in front of the mirror – hmm – well – yes the upper set of teeth indeed seemed glowing , the lower pair didn’t show much improvement, but am ready to wait and hope – all is not lost. Long live Teeth whitener!!!!!
If you want to get a feeling about how much the whitener worked – look closely at the two pics of the whitener below – my teeth also had a similar transition.
This week’s aim – to reduce weight to 64 Kgs, to finish at least 1 story book (someone gave me a huge collection - and I hate unread books lying around the house), to buy books for and study for this looming exam - people normally study 2 years for this exam - I lost interest after starting preparations since they had not sent admit card - 3 weeks prior to exam, I receive admit card - I know its too late to start preparations.. but what the hell....
An incident from February 22, 2009 - A Hilarious Gaffe - laughed my ass off after reading this
Mistaking the letter ‘H’ painted in the corner of a cricket field an unlucky pilot landed a helicopter smack in the middle of a domestic cricket game in India. The players, at first looking on in bewilderment as the chopper swooped down, quickly scurried for cover.
The match was a Ranji one-day between Punjab and Services at the Indira Stadium in Una, Himachal Pradesh. According to the Hindustan Times, a fire near the ground added to the uncertainty of the pilot, who mistook it for smoke signals, and also confused the letter ‘H’ for a landing pad. The ‘H’ stood, in reality, for the name of the home team, Himachal Pradesh.
The impulsive appearance of the helicopter, owned by a private airline, halted play for 26 minutes. "It landed suddenly. No one knew what was happening," the Punjab team manager told the paper. "There was chaos. Everyone ran for cover."
Today, my office people tried to scare the shit out of me by hiding my wallet. Well, they usually try such stunts regularly but poor guys – I guess they get upset when I don’t react much to what they do. My wallet disappeared at 10 AM and miraculously reappeared on my table exactly at 15-00 hours. I suddenly find it cosily sitting pretty lodged between two files. I had kept those two files on my table merely 2-3 minutes back, just before I went to the loo, hence am sure the issue was not like one of P’s acquaintances, who was apparently looking for her necklace or earrings all over the place while she as actually wearing them – Ohh, maybe it was a medicine and not an ornament – but am not gonna go into details now.
Well, I informed P casually about the case of the truant wallet and she raised an extremely pertinent question – What do you have in your wallet – considering the fact that it is exactly 3 inches fat – maybe more – I don’t carry rulers around in it, so can’t tell the exact measurement. Well – this innocuous question sent my wallet on a solemn soul-searching – Frankly, what exactly is in there?
Let me list out what is in there –
1. Office ID
2. 4 debit cards issued in my name + 1 issued in dad’s name (the last one is flicked and for contingencies)
3. My Driving Licence – which as P pointed out, expires by the middle of this month
4. My professional licence and I card for that- not going to mention my profession lest you all boycott me (high chance – fear factor)
5. Rs. 130 (out of that Rs. 100 given by Mom to refill her cell phone – I am banking on the fact that she does not know how to check her balance, so that I can delay it)
6. My tube rail Magnetic card (Obtuse people named it Smart Card – will delve into details in some later posts)
7. One I-Mint card – (No idea what this is just that it looks cool)
8. 30 visiting cards – I checked all – could figure out at least 5 of them which have been in there for the past 2 years and I cudn’t even recognize the guys whose names were imprinted there – Oh it even has a visiting card of the Governor, an MP, a journalist, a criminal, the police commissioner and a very reputed national award winning film maker – some ensemble!!!
9. A few bills – mostly from a place whose name matches with the first part of the Bong translation of the word ‘unwritten’
10. Some ATM transaction slips
11. Some mobile recharge vouchers- all duly scratched and used
12. Rs. 27 in coins – ohh it also has a 10 rupee coin – reminding me of my erstwhile passion for numismatics
13. 2 passport size pics of mine
14. At least 5 papers where I jot down my “Things to do today” list (ironically some of the ‘today’ papers scream out very old messages – like booking ticket at Majestic – this is in Bangalore which I left 1.5 years back )
I guess there are other things too – am just tired of going into minor details. I frantically searched for my own visiting card – but nope – totally futile. P had proposed to clear out my wallet, but I guess got busy doing other more important things – not that am complaining…..for obvious reasons…….
Here’s a pic of the wallet for your kind inspection (wow wow wow – that was my corporate language kicking in)
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