The Discriminant of The Iota

And we keep driving into the night its a late goodbye

Cobain wafting in my room as it flows into my veins, killing me softly, wondering what it felt to die, to break away into some veritable abyss, how would it be to sit by wait to be consumed by the streams of venom inside, a part of my dystopian existence. How do i feel about it ? Ah! there aren't any crescendos here after which the truth sets in, nor are the nymphs reciting paeans about me, i wish i weren't a travesty but a slice of some thing tangible, not a mere glimmer merely a streak, so as i sit with the ashen myself, i still think of what i thought i would be my whole life.

No, i wish i were a pain in the ass, lachrymose, sullen, sick wierdo, or the incomprehensible, never getting to know the milieu, figuring out conformity in a swarm, looking for straight lines in circles, shapes in a void,i wish i was that odd book, i wish i was…… but it wasn’t meant to be, i was the trumpet on a funeral party, sax in rap, the glaring oddity, the one thing that made you jump, stop for second to figure out, or just mumble “even this was possible”, and for  person who went at length to do this, i guess that was who i am or surely who i was……

Ah! i just begin to loose control, wonder how similar is life outside and venom inside, its a high in the beginning, a new rush within, rocking the shores inside, almost like the unforgiving waves crashing on the beach, and i make a spectacle of myself, people wait for blames when they read such loser tales, they wait for the sorry pathetic loser to fix responsibilities, they fear, they wonder, ………….they laugh, i wish i could blame someone or even myself, i heard tales every night from my grandmother, who thought she would never wake up the next morning, holding me close to her heart, as i slept, i just have this one last Monk, its almost funny when i think how the monk would meet the poison in my veins, and say, hey just let the jerk finish this one last bottle.

Now my legs are down and eyes puffy, and me figuring what went wrong, or i was i not prepared to take it, did this have to go down this way, its easy to quit life, yeah all it took were few google searches to find the right mix, but now i recall the last days, they were the same, the same old me, tumbling over, laughing my heads off at corner, jumping with the kids at the pavement, pinching my eyes at the sight of the girl at the coffee counter, yeah it was the same, friends, people, me,…. life. And yet i sit at the very end of it, what do i feel guilty about, wish it were some list of sorry tales but as non plussed as i am, i have none to offer, and to honest just sorry mom i didn’t see it coming, coz even i hadn't thought of it.

These are my last words and just as i read back what i wrote, i know now why i am going, what i am sorry for at this moment, i am sorry because it isn’t glitzy, or glossy as they show it when heroes go down, its not dramatic, despite my effort to make it, its not something i wanted it to end up like, its again what i ended up making out of my life, trying to be someone else, a piece of story for others to tell, a joke for someone else, a good boy for the neighbour hood aunty, a shit-bag for drink buddies, a figure for some to follow, and when they find me that's what they will talk again…. now that’s some way to die………….

……even as i go as a whimper……and i take my last try( to quote a memorable last words) Catch ya later

--DUNNO WHO I AM

(  SORRY FOR RUINING YOUR " DUDE ITS A NEW YEAR" MOOD, IF I DID, ITS JUST THAT SOMEONE CLOSE TO ME WANTED TO WRITE THIS ONE) 

What is the first thing you are told when you are set to register yourself on the rolls of that engineering college ,medical college or the dreaded Defence Academy, the parents wince and educators mince. The R word Hydra monster, its various manifestations, all the verbal rhetoric doing rounds, I thought few simple questions to ask the seers of law, logic, the luminaries who chose to chasten ( after having “fun” in their years ) the campuses.

The following shall remain sacrosanct :

1. The right to life

The term life not only includes upholding one’s right to live, sustain his dignity, integrity.

Also i must point out here we need to examine the spirit behind Ragging and not look at it incident wise.

To the honourable court i put forth the following points

A. The verdict handed out was a result of a criminal act, the honourable courts observed that the a felony had been committed with the a person imposing his whims on other based on a hierarchal arrangement and thus the status acquired. The courts rightly pointed out that this premise is skewed, and hence if students have the temerity to violate someone’s integrity then it needs to be addressed, so we go for a blanket ban, phew so if bureaucracy gives me powers to  decide the fate of people in my district, i wonder whether supreme court would take cognizance of the fact that bureaucracy is causing suicides in Vidharbha, ban it as well my lord!

But its inefficiency at someone’s part!!!

Hell yes!! you don’t ban cars when someone mows down people on footpaths, or worse you dont even ban alchohol, when a drunk driver crushes urchins on roads. We dont ban arms when murders take place in our “civil” society. So if people choose to misuse powers invested ( say a bureaucrat) you don’t pull down the system.

B So does that means that Ragging as a institution is right, and some powers can be invested into college seniors, merely because they have an advantage of position and time.

This is a tough one( i spent most of my time on this, feedback needed on this point) The time invested in under graduate study varies from 3-5 yrs. After this individuals labeled as doctors, managers, engineers work in diverse fields where even human life may be entrusted upon them. Now considering by your point B: does the 4-5 semester exams give imbue in a person a sense of duty, responsibility?? gosh! why didn't they get this in schools they cleared 12 exams. Colleges were not meant to provide merely rote learning of another set of books, they are an institution that make an individual out of you, an individual ready to face all challenges of life, understand the vicissitudes of life, (yeah! this was before we allowed anyone with 10 crores in belly to open a college ) we have opened schools again, so when you are opening the wrong kinds of institutes, wrong things are bound to happen.

You are deviating from the point

Fine! People who are entrusted with lives of people are assumed to have certain conscience of their own which was certainly not in a high school product, this transformation needs more than upgradation of academic faculties of an individual, ragging is a mere abrasive meant to point out to a high school weirdo, that hey! college is not a fairly tale fella, come real joining college does not mean you have won the world or something, time to come real!

C: So its a moral duty! Bah! Humbug

I wish it were a moral duty, its a ritual sir, i admit with alas an intention to uphold what the education stands for.

D. and all this calling of lowering of eyes, what about that! making them wear formals what is that?

Sir with all due regards, i hope the shimmering black waistcoat, with the V shaped wing collar, the elaborate wig, and the statemtment of “My Lord!” is enough to soothe your appetite at your age, please allow your grandsons to have some fun as well. Why this clinging my lord!( i love it) or is your super sized stature immune to such vervbal rhetoric. Alas what gave you this stature, the society my lord! the same society that is still fraught with hierarchies, we just brought it in our colleges my lord, is that too much to ask for??

E: So what is the way out of the predicament?

Please leave it on the individual, let him experience it, tell him, that he has the right not to become a part of it, but only based on visceral observations, but deduce himself, the mark of a true individual and not a spoon fed kid! There is a need to of a regulation not a blanket ban, which mocks at the efficacy of our institutions to produce nation builders!!

I SUPPORT RAGGING IN INSTITUTIONS please sign below if you agree. Comments from both sides are invited.

I had to be succinct here! your are free to chat at length at my gmail id: mailcooltarang@gmail.com

Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.                                        

                     -  Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption

November 9,1989-Somewhere In Palestine

The warden darted into the cell, bows knitted, beads of perspiration clearly visible, it was rather unusual for him to be there yet the onus of responsibility of this task the deportation of this inmate was no ordinary moment, for the watershed moment of the career sat there in a tattered camisole, offering prayer in cell number 18. The frail, pale looking prisoner, with sunken eyes was no ordinary catch, the Fuhrer of Germany had hailed this as the single most important moment since the victory of Third Reich in the Second World War. The Americans acquiesced to this development as an important step to “universal  purging”. Sanguine crowds from Japan to Italy were gathering to mark this moment. what was supposed to a mere pilferage, snow balled into into the discovery of the last echelon of Jewish resistance. The rabid Jews were to be eliminated in what would become a towering edifice of Fuhrer’s determination. Sources close to the Fuhrer described how Fuhrer felt an infusion of life hearing the news, The Vatican hailed it as a miracle, and yet the whole world seemed to be limited to the four walls for Jehovah. The “Great Extermination” was to have a fitting end. After decades of weeding, and several years of guerilla war, all seemed to come to an end. The warden shrugged as he entered the cells. This was his destiny; his limelight moment. The warden had handpicked the guards and had chosen to personally escort to the scaffold. as the crowds sat baying for blood, few chose to ponder on the futility of the exercise(promptly arrested next day), most harangued on how elders of Zion plotted to poison wells. some choose to meekly point out the loss of a provenance of fine music, literature, academia(promptly executed) most chose to vilify how Jews were insidiously controlling business, outlets of public opinion, and so did people in confabs( what is history, alas! a fable agreed upon) wondering how how treacherous would have had existence become had Jews survived, sniggered at the Allied suicide at Normandy, count merits of eliminating invalids, advocating the merit of eliminating debauchery practiced under the veil of homosexuality. and as they sat glued to their TV sets waiting for the swastika encrusted vehicle to arrive at what was once believed to be a Wailing Wall. The SS had made elaborate plans to lend the moment historical credulity. and yet warden shivered for what lay in store, one night, one night had changed it all, he reflected at his over zealously guarded secret, his act of sacrilege, marrying a Jew, and then abandoning her. And today, his son stood in front of him, as the warden tried to conceal his tears. It had to done today, he concluded, the planning was right, the men were trust worthy handpicked having impeccable credentials and owing allegiance to him. The point had to be the bridge over the creek, the warden would free the Jehovah and the vehicle would skid over the bridge to fall into creek, the warden thought as he gazed into hopeless eyes of Jehovah.

The convoy left for the SS outpost where Jehovah was to be handed over to SS, things had to move fast, everything had to fall in place, for the SS would leave no stone unturned. the warden had to devise a perfect alibi, give his own life to give Jehovah life .the creek was now a mile away, when the helicopter hovering above noticed a glitch, and before they could make out or even jehovah could construe the tumultuous developments, the van plunged into the creek. Jehovah without handcuffs froze for a moment,almost dumbfounded,suddenly the warden’s cry rang into his ears,” Run son,................. RUN” the warden gave out a vehement cry, as Jehovah found himself running into forest with no idea what lay ahead, and the last words almost made him stop “tell your mother.... ....i loved her, ......so much that i never married any one else”............................. and then a loud bang silenced it all…………..

Hitler died that night. 




PS: The story is set in a world where Nazis won the second world war, Holocaust is called the Great extermination, the Date november 9 marks the fall of berlin wall in our world..... just in case u missed the context... as many did....

 

Congratulations, our apathy just turned 63, how about bringing a homage wreath to commemorate this! so what did you do on this "holiday", had an independence cocktail?, watched the independence day "special" movie ?, enjoy the extended hours of shopping bliss at the neighbourhood mall offering 80+20% discount on inflated prices ?, or just woke @ 11 rubbing eyes basking under the glory of the "independence" of not having to work on a weekday and prospects of an extended weekend, or enjoy the near customary 15th august rains....... ( why do you have to sit and kvetch the whole day crackatdawn). it is easy for people to cite the vicissitude of life as alibi, some take the easy route, denounce the country talk about political demagoguery and feel exonerated. To begin with the succinct argument for all this is " cut the crap! get real"

This is what people say

Excuse 1: Its about having it in hearts, "i dont believe in showing of! it so kitsch!"

Hell yes! the best subterfuge for all the lassitude associated with this day, it's dil ka maamla afterall, scores of our flicks have justified lame plots on this ground. ( "I don't have to watch the independence day parade to prove my "patriotism", it's in my heart....uh! it hurts") and so right are these people, they are doing their bit! they are part of our burgeoning IT industry, service industry or whatever, and they are bringing greenbacks for "us" oh! i missed that, YOU are building the nation and not doing a JOB!, silly me, its always "others" who are flouting traffic norms, paying bribes when caught without license, rigging electric meters to run 3 ACs 24 hours, enchroaching public land, embezzling money meant for the destitute. Our Indian-ness is worth a kick in ass, as plain as it can be, and the earlier we learn it the better.

Excuse-2: "Yaar! no one is doing anything around me! what difference would it make"

Bingo! no one is doing anything, and one will ever do anything, such narcissists we have become that the only thing that matters to us is " i don't wanna make of fool of myself" by hoisting flag in my backyard, and "embarrass" myself by singing the anthem "alone" while "others" watch..... yeah that's for the octogenarians, they did whatever they wanted, no point in staying rooted to the past anyways,isn't it? and about the difference, we have never made any, all we can do is traduce about everything around us, shrugging off in the end, and walking way satiated! Patriotism has become a night stand for us,or better its like the latest tad of fuck-friend, enjoyment without strings attached... we screw the mistress called "liberty" everyday and the irony is prostitution is illegal.........

Excuse -3: I cannot stand the crap they show on TV or those silly Independence day Dance competitions, karaoke nights

That should have had been good, but turned out to be worse. The mavericks of our generation who lambast procedures and traditions as stifling ,take refuge in something 'liberating' and carry the "hip" tag. while the good thing is that they want to change things, yeah we need it, but what do they do, well......um.......um........um....... nothing...... runaway from reality....... i agree everyone has its own set of preferences choices, but the fact is that we celebrate diwali, holi for whatever reasons we have to, we do it year after year, and when it comes to our identity( yeah we remember our dark blue passports when we are racially abused, profiled at airports)what are we doing? its about doing things, and not just being hypocrite, yeah that's what we are, plain truth!

Excuse-4: There is nothing that will do to change anything lets move on!

and you read through all this! enjoy your slumber, amen for the decadent nation.......

However pessimist i may sound, this is the truth, the everything of our banal existence..... change is however plainly a matter of discretion for those who wish to be caught unnerved when the juggernaut of change rolls in.............

Turned 21.... big story.... on the rolls of eligible bachelors.... applications being considered...lolz....

Main Entry: or·thog·o·nal
* Pronunciation: \ȯr-ˈthä-gə-nəl\
* Function: adjective
* Etymology: Middle French, from Latin orthogonius, from Greek orthogōnios, from orth- + gōnia angle — more at -gon
* Date: 1612

1 a : intersecting or lying at right angles b : having perpendicular slopes or tangents at the point of intersection (orthogonal curves)

“Car accident kills three” screamed the morning paper, the mediamen hounded the hapless police commissioner, as he tried to explain that it was a case of reckless driving under the influence of alcohol. The people were served with grotesque images from the crash to prove who has the most ‘exclusive’ news. “Will the police press charges on the lone survivor”, asked one. The son of an industrialist, who categorically denied his son being inebriated at the time of the incident, already boxed after the crash of the pillar at the site of his project, “he had little to do but present a brave face”, commented one social expert citing lack of parental guidance and a plethora of other excuses, while structural experts argued on the other end of spectrum. Cases were filed as expected, sting shows telling how victim’s family was paid to be quiet were aired as expected, the son-father duo came out clean…… as expected…….. justice had been done……as expected…………………

X

“Baba get up, malik bula rahe hain”, the boy stammered wondering would the brat even twitch a muscle, “must have had another of those hangovers”, as he placed the glass of juice on the sidetable before slithering out of the room. “ring …ring”, “ hey karan big party at Elevate just after college what say” “dude, its just 9, just woken up, yeah I’ll see” as he tottered his way to the bathroom knocking down the glass of juice, “chotu” he hollered “clean this mess in my room”, “ damn! The last night rocked” he had tried “stuff” that night, one smooth line inside and out of the world, he was ‘man’ now, he smirked as he got ready for the college. And just what he hadn’t wished, there was Dad again giving out his “perfection” speech to chotu, “damn” he thought now getting money won’t be easy what after all comes in thousand bucks, not even a decent shot! “ Ah! You are up finally, so what do you want end up like these men” “ Dad I am just 19 please don’t gimme your ‘change the world’ talk right in the morning” as he stuffed the toast in his mouth. “Karan, it is my ‘change the world’ shit that gives you your binges, you better straighten up before its late” said the father giving up any hopes he had. “ Dad, I needed some money, college has a freshers’ and all have to chip in”, watching his exasperated father stare at him. “I am not earning for your late night revelry, karan, you better mend your ways, I got this meeting I’ll talk to you later” as the father hurried off the table. “Chotu, just what do you think you are doing staring the roof, did you put the golf kit, you lousy bastard”, as he got into the car wondering what was more worrisome the servants these days or the kids. He had a minister to tackle, the project was already under so many lenses, a few crores and it will be all, why can’t they just ask straightway and ‘get over’ it, as he speeded to the course. Meanwhile karan fretted away to college, wondering how to get away from all this bickering, wondering if he could take some money from ‘friends’, the stuff was too good to resist. So when in the evening he headed to the disc, life was at ease now, as he sunk into the plush sofa, eyes preying for the ‘nigger’.” The night rocked!, you got anything in boot, dude” exclaimed one as they returned back loaded with girls and coke. “holy crap, what’s coke doing in your boot asshole” as he drew neat lines. “Damn chotu, I asked him to get the stuff out of car”, Guys not here not ,here please” as he turned back, “ hey watch out, jesus Christ karannnnnn!!…………………………..”

Y

“ get up chotu its six already you will be late for work”, the father kicked him “ that should set you right”. “why don’t you stop jabbering, I am tired of these daily squabbles”, as he fumed while leaving to his place of work. He changed his clothes after reaching the sahib’s bunglow, “what is the point in dressing like an idiot” as he feared his immaculate sahib and prepared toast for him. “chotu… chotu”, the voice boomed as he rushed to take instructions from ‘malik’. “see whether karan has gotten up or not and take juice as well, I am sure he came late drunk”. He bowed his head and tip-toed to ‘baba’s’ room. “There lies the bastard”, he sneered as he walked into the room, looking for the elusive wallet. He had barely placed the glass and slipped in two crisp 500 notes when he froze to death, “chotu” the voice boomed again, he rushed out only to find that he had applied less butter on the toast, even the tea wasn’t served right. So all he had to do was to stare down as the ‘sahib’ cussed at him. “Ah! There he comes…. Bastard he never knows where his money goes” as he sniggered to himself watching the son nibble toast. “ another chore, damn clean the glass “ as he dragged his feet to the room again thinking if luck would smile again. He picked pieces of glasses watching the fancy mobile on the bed. “ I will gift a mobile to chameli”, thinking about the girl who lived near the site which sahib owned. “ow!” he exclaimed in pain, a piece had sliced though his hand. He went out and stood at the levee nursing his hand wondering whether this life was any good, kicks from father, abuses here, staring pointlessly to the roof. And just when he was thinking of slipping by, he had another dose of the day, that heavy bag which he hated had to be ferried now, “ I can meet chameli now” trying to cheer himself up as now ‘malik’ would get busy and he can slip to the site which was so close to the course. So as he lugged the kit along the course, he was asked to leave as ‘sahib’ was talking to an important man. “This is it” as he ran out of the course took an auto to the site. Today he will buy her a fancy dress, he had money. The urchins chased the auto as he entered the lane where chameli lived. “ lets go market and get an anklet for you” he exclaimed to her. So after an hour of trying the trinket chameli found what she was looking for. He was the man!, he had a decent job, money everything she wanted, so when he asked her to come to that lonely place at the site she had little to do but to solicit. And then there they were finally, the place was an irony in itself, so quite and desolate amidst a sea of anarchy. She had heard that work had been stopped there and that’s how she had found a place to meet her, where chotu would come and satiate her. He had just started to undress her when she heard a slow, painful guttural, and before she could reckon…………………………..

So you don't know were you're going and you wanna talk
But you feel like you're going where you've been before
You tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored
Nothing's really making any sense at all
Let's talk

-Coldplay Talk

It begins as a simple day, the usual humdrums of your daily life, and then as if someone had conspired surreptitiously for the moment to happen, you see something you hadn’t seen for years together, a song being played somewhere, a high five or knuckles thumping to that sudden unannounced entry that is strikingly similar to something or someone. I know that pit in the stomach at that time, that feeling of colour flushing from the face, and eerie sort of feeling at first as you turn back those pages in memory, bursting into weak smiles and yes then there you go, your steering wheel, the office table, that dumb printer( reckon printers and steering go for insurance cover) wondering if that moment never happened or just cussing yourself for being so lame at times and even irresponsible! So where do you start from. Ah! That innocuous smile!

Stage I

Have seen it start at both ways most originate from that single almost nondescript encounter, and yeah! For some, a bang( I wonder how do they turn it that way) it may have had been for that fresher’s party or the usual bird watching or even that lab session for an impromptu conversation about the impending assignment, and yes for some a bang! From that going all outs to propose( always asking to become a friend of some kind, and yes its lame) to that mis(sed)understanding, the squabbling after that( is usually a dead end) and yes for the record it’s not about those I made it moments it’s those moments when you flustered at the mere sight knew nothing as it was your first and yeah! Blew it!!!!! But that first stuck and hell yes it went like a stake across your heart. That bolstering by your friends ( and how you wished to kick your ass after that) that palpitation of hands, an hour before the mirror and ( you are making your own list now) and for the silent admirers, goodness done it all, for ‘em. Finding out the timetable to the lists of favourites yet keeping it under wraps ( only for that damn beer session) you adore, you blush, you go out of all ways for that glimpse, trying to make your you go unnoticed, mustering every last bit of strength to go to talk only stopping dead in the middle of tracks,( damn the professor, your batchmate to her friend) some other day and a quick exit. And yes you get to talk to her one day, it may have had been just a laconic reply but that was world, to that little victory lap on the way back to hostel, to the samba dance once she is out of sight you remember it all, smiling all the way………………

Stage II

“Sorry not interested’ to peals of laughter( how much do you wish to run away) and even as your heart sears you stand there to hear that, and yes my friend girls talk about it later, and yes they make fun of it the same way you friends do when you tell your plight ,and your gloom sinks between those schadenfreude remarks. And in moments of solidarity those ahh!-s as you fizz out like a steam engine while on the other hand it’s party time for the friend in the next room, the girl just talked ( and if you tell this ever, I bet it’ll be only you who would remember that she had asked for the lab readings, upto 3 decimal places) and now that preparing before hand to even reading topics beforehand( your percentage dips on the contrary that’s the Catch-22 situation), so you contrive to create those encounters on a more frequent basis and yes its beautiful……….

Stage III ( discretion advised)

Its bad! And that’s the reason for that fist banging. You saw the girl out with that moron sitting on the last bench to where did he come from, nah! It must be just a friend, and then you see more and you see more of them (why are you following them everywhere) as you wave back to her because she has seen you (finally!) and yeah you sneer seeing her smile, bursting into giggles every now and then. And you howl in your room fella! And you let out those curses so loud that the entire block knows about it. Seen myriad cases of guys walking in mess, shoulders drooping, head lying low, that façade you try to carry and now everyone knows that another man is down in the battle of sexes. And the bang guys end it in bang to that vexing ( this is what the girls feel dude! Me totally on your side) presence to those requests to mellow down, to yes ( why do you do it man) that burst of expletives. And you look for catharsis in some form or the other and you get mean dude! Doing the most reproachable things, any piece of figment becomes possible as your friends traduce about the girl. What is the duration of this well a couple of weeks and then a couple of drinks after you see the girl hanging out with that !**@@@***! And here goes out what all happens, you talk to her friends, try to send favorable reviews across the other side, to that threatening to the guy to receiving them……..
Yeah that’s the unabridged story of How I Went through the first two months in my college, still good when you talk about it with peers on that Friday night hangout…. And( I may sound a bit avuncular but I’ll take this chance) talk to her again I know you would do that little victory lap again or feel those hots again…. (turn 18 for a few moments)………. Carpe Diem!

And yes Happy Friendship day (start like that maybe!)

I couldn’t believe what my eyes saw, no this can’t be true, as if a behemoth stood in front of me, and I stood dumb founded, the enormity of this left me gaping, imagine falling from a cliff, imagine the decibel of the yell as the lump of the throat swells to the size of a baseball, think of the screech of the car waiting to sweep underneath chunks of human flesh, juxtapose your eyes in those blank eyes, imagine never ending farms units lined in perfect arrays spread across the length and breadth of the gaze and stretching beyond…. Imagine being stranded, feel the drops of sweat sliding across the palms, imagine the palpation shredding your confidence as you look around, looking to grope the first strand of hope, clinging to your web of assurances, imagine being a part of what they call the ‘it’, the ignominy of being shoveled around, a never ending loop and worse winding towards the center as you break the last bone of your body to move out of it, think of the hollowness of the assurances of “ I know what I am doing” or the futility of “ I will do this, the day I reach X” put yourself in a world of zombies all responding to a single call, all guided by the same beacon, working unabated, synchronized at the same tick of clock, think of the helplessness of the fallen, blinded by the shine of the sword watching death approach, dancing nimbly like a deer in forest and ‘it’ stood there exactly like that right in front of my eyes as I gazed at the sight and yet it was there mocking at me, every inch of me screaming to get out of the place, I wish I were in a mortuary atleast the place told you that there are conclusions, finishes, last laps but this wasn’t it either, it was a utopia to me before I came here and just like a refugee dreaming of his very own Elysium complete with the hymns those nymphs chant as you enter, and as you must have had realized( phew!) i was…… well……. shocked….( all this drama for this pathetic word, hate crack@dawn) I was in gurgaon to do my “obligatory” industry training and the place is the same, its where the free waves of the ocean crash on the hard land yearning to go back to the ocean again, yes there are two worlds here the world of dream companies, flashy suites, lines of escalators to take you “there” and there is a dreamy soul and yes, there is a world of this soul…. And standing on the roof of the PG accommodation where my friend lived I felt the same, a farm of brains, a world of zombies, an echo of the knell being sounded, and the black cross had been served and it had a name…. my name….. as it said yes you too would be here another one in the list of rolls of some “organization” doing what is being done by everyone, responding to the same clicks of mouse taps of keyboards, boarding the same cabs all heading to the same place ending in the same accommodations like all, with absolutely no idea what the future would be, and yes always trying to “figure out” the path to top and everyone seems to know it, everyone is smiling, to what I am still unaware, but certainly not to the corporate discount @Dominos for eating their stupid pizza as one is tired of the undercooked tiffin in front of the eyes everyday, and albeit in the matchbox rooms in PGs spread in all dimensions they curse, they booze, rant about the never ending fits of HR or TL, missing projects, lost years in B.Tech, they are there, because maybe only that was the course of the meal, rest were just crumbs meant for few, yeah there is a mushy world as well, yeah there is a world of giants, big stories, big names but just like this city all of this is on the other side of the road, and just symbolically everyone is waiting, wishing ‘if only the traffic moved my way’………………
Tip: Next time you visit Gurgaon/B’lore/Pune/Noida look at the malls, watch the honey eyed tepid girls and come back, don’t discuss about those bawdy “engineers” you saw, they are doing exactly what they always did “doing what they were “told” was best for them”………..

Sure that was really fucked up, dude…. I quipped miming at the salesperson we had just mocked, “sir why don’t you try this, it would look good on you”… yeah sure so who do you think you are Yves Saint Laurent??? Ha! Look at her fellas, what point do you think she gets on the scale…… are you even considering to consider her, be serious man, talk of standards fella, yeah some standards!, don’t you have a better shade, excuse me, yes sir, got my size, ah! Leave it , this one I want it in in a shade of purple, lemme check that out sir, what kind of place is it, no variety, you people you don’t know how to manage “clients” and “she” went and sighing another day at work, (prerna you are required at the billing counter) ah! Look at her again, what does she think of her, some Cleopatra hybrid or what, listen what you did, you mixed the size, where is your head, girl? Look at yourself, girls like you I don’t even bother for, better size up girl, so there we left spoofing as usual, mocking to our heart’s content, on the face how it had moistened and was almost an over ripe tomato, how the bell shaped girl was shaking controlling a sea of emotions inside her bosom, what could she do, what could she do….. even as I shrieked “shopping experience”…………

Few Hours Before…. Somewhere in kanpur…….

It was a usual morning, the usual humdrum, no electricity line for the loo, the “son” getting ready for his some big tryst with the destiny, come out you loser, I have to travel 15 kilometers to my first job, well this is it, this was the D-Day what she had been waiting for, squeezing between sweaty arms for a shot at interview, it took over 10 frantic rounds of pleas, nays, ayes before the file was considered, “oki come for the interview we will see what we can do” the manager said, gosh I cannot stand this face anymore….. so all those prayers, those little talisman all had paid off, but the reality stood between, make some tea for me, the father as blithe as he was on her birth, I am making my tiffin pa, poor girl she was supposed to save her salary for them, so that the “son” can have his top-up cards for the next door bitch, so that those masala eating knobheads can have tea between rounds of intense discussion, so that the mother can show the damned saree that the first salary brought, so that she could find a place she always wanted to have for her, but nothing could stop her today, extra coat of liner, nails polished, rehearsing the oh! So important rules to greet customer, extra dab of the perfume, today the world is hers so today the tempo-wallah will be paid with her money, today the milk is from her beads of sweat, today the world is hers, today she will show what she can do…… today is the day she will………

P.S. : No hate mails for me as it wasn’t me, I do this only to those male salesperson (boy I am doomed!)……….

To,
Mulayam Singh Yadav aka Jackass
Puddle of Shit
"Darkness"

Sub : Many-Frusto

Lo-"Sir",
I know you probably wouldnt read this blog,(what if the computer virus ate your precious memory) thanks to your new manifesto (you can try a fiction novel, a new genre has been invented by you un-sci-fi)i can finally breathe easy, after straining my eyes on this reckless machine, i just got the job of newspaper boy reduced( me a glutton???)the information of your manifesto came to me via the RSS feed i had subscribed( and before you flinch your balls RSS=Really Simple Syndication)and i was impressed by your thoughts ( i am damn serious!!), how eloquently have you crafted a plan to finish unemployment forever, a masterplan i must say, now let's see how it works. Say you have to open this webpage, you go to your computer( hey wait are you crazy no computers!!!) so you go to the information assistant( fancy name needed) also lets keep a employment ticker with us, so lets tick it to 1( voila! you just gave a man his daily bread) so you request him to tell you whether crackatdawn has new entries, the IA smiles, and as that grin widens you wonder how this crack-nut works, so he takes out a type writer and sends a request via a telegram( instant work )and now the telegram has to deciphered, so the PROCESSOR( dont u get it, generate employment!!) so we "hire" 20 men to decipher the code( ticker=21), now the search is send to search department a thriving new department by our respected Mulayam Singh ji, it files every webpage on the earth( and cuts out porn! what an idea sirjee)so that it can be referred to, now this mega archive is being managed by over 20 million people( ticker=20million and 21) so as your search lands into their efficent hands( you can think of a new search till then, pssst bribe your IA and he will get it done in only 45 minutes!) so the new post is duly found and is sent to your local post office which delievers a fresh copy to you....congrats you are now my blog visitor!, and didnt you realize how many people were loosing job because all you had to do was to type at the browser window. And yes mulyamji this shall be my last post in english( i'll switch to angrezi!!!) becuase i have no right to move ahead, how can i move ahead of those who pass exams because of self-center policy, it is my duty to be a concerned citizen that i promptly give up english till third as you have done for thousands of kids like me, how can i move ahead when people around me spend 5000 for an english speaking course in your safai village and be swindled!, alas i am too much of a capitalist minded, "self-centered" glut with no apathy whatsoever, i must stop the $50 billion IT industry, for hiring students from colleges your goons have setup in the UP-hinterland( CS, IT 200 seats, electronics 100 seats, mechanical 50, end of college). So come lets join hands and move towards Samajwad.... or whatever eutopia that be.....( AK-56 trotting MP's shall be our idols, big-b our godfather, convent educated dolls shall be the cover girls of this great society)......

Hands Held High
Crack@Dawn

He laughs best who laughs last.

The world is indeed an interesting place to be in, a confetti of characters strewn across the landscape, each with a mind of its own, and everyone seems to be proving a point( not proving a point may be "proving" as well!!)while some may surge ahead, the dormant majority that chugs in the mill is a worth a peek, it is strange how a majority sits blank faced( indian junta and election day) yet produce the most dramatic results (gandhis, laloos, bhaiyas and behens of various size and capacities). In such dormant lanes, insidiously encroaching the "urban" sphere, amidst the stench (your phoren return cousin would talk about it while bhabhijis, auntjees are busy debating on the prefect match for him), reeking drains pipes aligned at odd angles with your morning offerings vying to break free and attain salvation, in that perfect moment of serendipity when an individual strayed from the path of life is walking right under the mesh.In those lanes where litter is "aesthetically" placed like toppings on your papa johns pizza( tis the same trash you wish to "disappear" from your lives...)and why the remnants of "road" resembles a leper, all you would wish is to say is...."what have i gotten myself into"(and yes you are thinking that too) but the world there is far more grotesque than this verbal rhetoric, but kingdoms, territories, exist. And its not just the boundaries that the municipality would draw to pass the buck to( railways, panchayat, PWD, for-rest etc) while these lines may not be seen, some are visible and to be precise of the canines(sorry they are "slumdogs" now), you are aware of it the moment you enter, some pairs of eyes would inadvertently turn towards you, a reconnaissance mission shall be directed towards you,( i would run away at that only!) but even as some display there claws and teeth(phew!!!) and upon rummaging deeper, gnawing in the corner you would find the sullen faced, beaten, bruised variety. lets name him, athos that's your name now... so athos is an outsider, kicked out when master saw no good in him( that explains his "fancy" name) athos waiting for a canine equivalent of St. Gertrude, feeding on what would be discarded even by the lords of the lanes, eyes the younger ones and ends getting a bite or two from anyone looking for a silent punching bag, and even those rag pickers have figured out how he is an easy target, 20 points for the tail, 40 for hitting the belly, he lingers like his shadow only waiting for the day to end........ but one day as it lay there, watching the world with half opened eyes the municipality truck came unannounced, it was his day, the lords were away for a skirmish and it were to be athos to "decide" for himself, so lay in front of him a mountain as fabled and only him to appreciate.But as his old bones made way for the infant desire, the dogs had surfaced, to hell with these noses!!, thought athos, but as it turned out only the "lord" had arrived, this good for nothing son of a bitch!!( pun!!)was about to spoil the party...... he had to act fast, offense was already done, big or small was out of question, but it was his day, the truck had come for him, the dog inside him was now bursting out, the lord "growled"-its over granpa, not today said athos( as you complained why do dogs have to bark right in the middle of day-break), athos knew he was no match, what can an underdog do?? or can he??? was the box leaning on one side telling him something, did the truck intentionally dumped more than it used to, can he tip it over, time was too little to decide this, may be he could see something now, maybe a checkmate, a checkmate that would be costly, he feared the debacle that were to follow..... but athos never knew how he did, the thud was probably the last thing he heard, but he did... he had the lions share, and he had upset the tables for lords...... so as there were no obituaries, athos lay there, a little smile on his face, disfigured by the blood...........

Replace athos with victims of subprime, and read it again....... the underdogs created the loudest thud...... they had the last laugh as the giants tumbled..........think on it.........have a great day..

Well no excuses for being absent for quite sometime, seems like everyone around is in story writing mode( adding their bits of twist to a fairly "straight" world) and between this interplay( my poor soul) tries to foray into a domain not mine( hail Rahuldash!!) and even as the title suggests nothing.... i am (damn!!!) nervous as i pen this down.....

The streets are dusty, and in this part of india at this time two things happen rather assidously.... the sun beating down relentlessly as the dust storm kicks those last flops of life lying hapelessly, and a fracas of kids who sneaked out of homes and hitting hard to become some dhonis and pathans...... and just a couple yards, next to the edifice of some exploits, long forgotten, sits the mother looking at the kids watching the kids fight over the missed run-out, dropped catch, breaking into a smile watching them squabble, flinching muscles as the little boy with school shirt hanging loose, trying to hit hard. so even as life drifts in this little hamlet away from the mad mad world few hikes away, not everything is dead, why the sarpanch just got 2 hours of electricity in the village and with TV sets to boast of and mobile antennas to hang on, the kitsch of city life seemed to be knocking a few doors, atleast the home of sarpanch, so the mother sits waiting for the son to turn up, in absence of a husband who is some local lord, extending his fief to till her boudoir, is hardly a life to be happy of... and she has her own share of being the "it" girl few years back.. the mother sits back recalling all this..... alternating between those sepia moments and uninspiring present. The cover girl of the village now tied to this "bull" with no regards whatsoever, just because he was the highest bidder, so much for a "body", but what's the point of thinking all this. duelling with herself. or rather consoling over the present.. she breaks to finish the daily choirs... cleaning the levee in front of house( sarpanch's pride) and clearing the mess after the never ending tea-sessions( bhabhi... just one more cup of tea... there is something different in the tea you make) the bellicose brother in law, for whom world was a idyllic spot, quipped.... though she had her fall in the form of him when she came was new, but quick to realize that his failures were beyond bed as well, so even as she brushed past him, she couldn't stop herself to look what he was ogling at, ah! another hollywood strip, those pencil thin bitches she sighed, recalling her over-zealous efforts to do the same, how close she was.... but quick to revert to the reality... "what thrill do you derive watching these good for nothing plastic bodies" quipped the "mother", so with his eyes dancing the brother in law suddenly saw all reasons to enlighten her, and broke into his rhetoric of how beauty when wrapped in clothing with inches fighting to hold the kilograms inside, was when art really came out, as if the jury of the "rampur idol" boasting bolly ties.... and finished to goad her " and what do you know about glamour, this is just not your cup of tea".... how could she have had known... how it was too surreal to be true.... and all she could do was..but smile... our Pinki gave the same smile... which was watched form delhi to dallas, how she flew to a world she would yearn to back for just one more time, how those flashes of camera couldn't capture all that went to make that smile, how those funny nifty-grifty manual of how to say "thank you", hold a knife and fork well doled out to her... only if she could have had made sense of all this and not been like a child watching the juggler.. too awed to make out anything... she could have had been something.... may be a bhojpuri movie or two... but there sat Pinki smiling... smiling and wondering if the idiot was worth knowing all this.....

To finish do watch "smile pinki"...........

And Miles to go before i reach.......

before i reach! -"Un"Frost ;)

The groom is sittin tall, heart pumping in anticipation, and in all this chutzpah( babblu and pintu wondering why they are chugging on a mare, and everyone around, breaking a muscle). Yet the top numbers are being belted out from what was supposed to resemble some grand carriage( and ended up looking an advertisement of Gemini Circus), by a singer who has no clue where was rhythm chopped and where were lyrics dropped( this is the same guy whose numbers your auto-wallah plays as you pray for the torture to end).And the best part is the torch-bearers who carry those enoromous chandeliers( so much for our bolly-obsession) as they illuminate path sans streetlights( bhabhiji mind your leg, you know that the maternal aunt of the third cousin of guptaji got a sprain in the marriage of the fifth cousin of his paternal uncle!)So as the juggernaut marches along sweeping with itself the urchins around, a bigger story is unfolding in the background( yeah in the immediate back and definitely on the ground).

So here is everyone swearing under breath( not me! ,i am shouting like crazy)wondering if marriages are made in heaven why doesn't the groom go there and wind up the nuptials! So as we gently honk the horns( as we get late for our very own baraat, of some......)Suddenly everything is at halt, and before anyone realizes why the ground shakes( P.W.D just paper finished the road( gosh my dad will kill me if he ever reads this))(aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai.....ponk...ponk..drum..drum) resonates with(honk...honk, abe marega kya.. road baap ki hai kya( was that a pun on me???)) But let us identify the most happy person in the melee( the groom, wrong answer!!) it is the petty cycle-wallah( the guy we just dont want on road)as his chest swells with pride as he steers like a piranha in a school even as we cry road ethics( we seem to know them all when we are stuck, look at that bike-rider, goodness look at his audacity, or that car how he swerved to the other lane, without bothering that you just try to outsmart the car-rider in the right and pat the back of the car driver for taking you out listening all the way, him swaggering about his feats in a remote U.P village).

And when everyone is finished trying his own at that intersection( dil ka mamlaa hai dilbur.....)and his tired of hurling curses to every immovable, the hawaldar walks in. ( sporting a cane, he is expected to take on the challenges of society,so much for our gandhi obsession???) after procrastinating on that dilapidated bench of the chai-wallah( what is the probability of finding them at an intersection? 1) and he wields like a conductor is about to conduct an opera, so the question in his mind, how to control this mass of humanity that swells around him( and he his "trained" to handle all of this, hail Indian Police)how he wished that he instead of DIG should have had been selected to go "phoren" to study traffic systems!! yet the clean-up starts couple of shoves( few smashed indicators and bruises, more chaos). and even as (bhangra paale aaja aaja) there is no end to the plight, with kids eating head and the affable radio announcer names of "hot-shots" for telling you to avoid the road when you are doomed to keep on moving in that direction. So what happens next..... well the story of getting out??- it is as stupid as this ending.......isn't??? Too unrealisitic..... and far too absurd to be repeated......... yet it happens...... hope the same fate awaits the blog as well............

Haapy Jammin( RIP: all those PCRA advertisements that fell flat on ears impaired by me-too honking of horns)

"Since the science of economics is primarily a set of tools, as opposed to a subject matter, then no subject, however offbeat, need be beyond its reach."-FREAKONOMICS

Well shoes have been very much in talks this season ( even as i lost a new pair of adidas to sheer callousness)and suddenly they seem to be flyin' everywhere, and while some were talking about over table( Ah! My Lord, the footwear is now on a watchlist, we insist that a bill be passed in House Of Commons giving MI-5 "sweeping" powers to "nail" the shoes being bought) i believe its time that they finally snoop over the shoe and so we can really move with foot in the mouth ( R.I.P Kolhapuris, they are now a strict no-no for all flights bound to her majesty's kingdom) or worse( Breaking News: China bombs Kanpur for supplying leather to Turkish Shoe Makers). Well things were fine till this point but the worrying part ( watch out Raj!!) is that while its raining footwear we indians are "shoe"ig away from becoming an active contributor to it, we have our own hall of fame ( Couples at Park, Richard Gere, Danny Boyle, M.F Hussain, Salman Rushdie.....) so with the list already in place where are the Shoe- squads( Classified Intercept: " Adidas has been delivered, Woodland on its way, the Puma is in place")

Yet no one is looking at the flip side of things( dammn! you elitists, are you cribing just because the shoe being thrown is alas, not "branded") come now fella look at flip side of this, it is a trickle up effect, the more you are shoe-ed the more shall be the sale of that brand( people can look for inspiration in anything!!) which implies more shoes being made which means more profit, that (indirectly) implies that the salaries shall go up... the worker will start buying( increase in demand)also the others associated with it, the ( country liqour, pan masala, bidi, and maybe, if left, food) so the bottom of the pyramid will create a demand! and who knows the retailer might just find a smile who may inturn place an order for supply management software( and that wrteched company would visit the darn campus @**#@!@**%) thus instead of all that laying off shit that we hear we may see campus recruitments( and before others start hooting, the tanneries may need newer machines, buildings, chemicals, electric meters etc..etc.etc) and even need to insure their product or might need a couple of loan or two...... and thus generate that spur needed, the elusive silver lining, and when you can spend a colossal $720 billion to fix "bad" assets why not produce "bad" shoes for a couple of billions which are already flying like bikinis in Copacabanana..... while my idea may need polishing ( so while steven and stephen aka freakonomics may claim lower crime rate being proportional to high abortions in 8os) i may, who knows, be a classic in making. And yes i can prove it, will someone pass me a couple of billions please!!!!!
( Disclaimer: The writer vows not to indulge in ponzi schemes and will sincerely spend the money in his pursuit to create supply by buying a few armanis, gucchi, versace and ferraris ;) Amen..............

"In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing."-Oscar Wilde

Well i am not aiming for literary heights( or lows!!!)so while everything is nose-diving, the "noses" stay up in air( we know what we are doing!!!, investors don't panic) everyone seems to be getting cool about their businesses( they just "freezed" the expenditure on toiletries!) maybe that's why they are on a "sticky" wicket. The long hailed innovation is finally coming to a "loo" near you, watch this space for more "action". This season what "R" the things to watch out

1. Recession- The Hydra seems to be growing heads even as "heads" continue to roll, so while the chaiwala on the campus gate talks about figthing recession(chai piyo, mast jiyo!!), we have finally found a topic on which our kids would watch movies, read books on while some of us would write case studies as thesis!( and finally blame someone)

2. Recruiters- to sum it lets paint the campuses with posters of "Wanted" and "Missing" with the names of campus WITCHes( The "SWITCH" just broke)who sent their pickup trucks in Placements Cell( excellent opportunities, a place to grow, watch your career taking shape!!!) the pied piper would march out with the entire batches dancing to the tune.

3. RSS- Yeah, valentine is round the corner and atleast RSS is recruiting( and watch your career "take off")for the busy week beginning this feb, a "blockbuster" about to be released at archies/hallmark/park/barista around you......

4. Results- So even as students grapple with the never ending abbrevations ( CAT, XAT, MAT, FAT, JAT ;-), we gear for the result of economy, with the financial year coming to an end, lets hope there are no more "Raju" in bag.......

5. Ramalinga Raju- Watch the man direct the "The Investigation Symphony" and hope their are serious "notes" that are played out............

6. Red- The colour of the season, with everything "bleeding" watch the dolls on ramp and "aisle" wear the color with poise and hear some "Thankore, Bal" talk how recession inspires them to design even more vague designs that are ridiculously expensive...........( is Bhansali planning a sequel to Black, try imagining Kangana Ranaut squealing "red" as stocks plummet")


7. Reality- Lets bring us down to face the stark truths, and work together to tide these times rather than sitting and praying god to spare our ass while the neighbour gets f*****. Tough times require extra ordinary actions by level heads, so while some will emerge as heroes, some would fade out, keep moving guys, try answering to conscience inside you than playing with an extra K in your name.......... and miracles just don't just happen in Hudson, until there are able hands to steer.........

May you come out smiling..........

There goes an old song in bollywood where Amitabh Bachhan tells how when elders asked him to stand on his feet and do something, he stands up and croons a song that is an evergreen party number... wish we could make the same in real life( what is that anyway??? what we see around us or what we are being shown), we always look at life through the prism of results, a prism made from the glass of our desires, it seems strange at times( to me, hell yes!!!) as maybe situations and decisions taken by us could be a better parameter to judge the portrait of life that is being painted, pixel by pixel, but we are a hell of a kind, why should we take the blame upon ourselves or worse share the load for our failures and even successes between us humans, it has to be some unknown, desired( or undesired, damn i got a flu before my JEE paper, my LUCK was bad) we look to blame everything but us, too weak to take things upon us, well i may be grossly ignorant of the divine interplay ( how can he, a screwed up individual comment on others!!!)but decide for yourself or ponder upon in moments of blank whether your conscious or spontaneous decisions were right.
Decisions afterall is what we use to pass a verdict upon others,( surely in those endless historical analysis where they dissect why xyz pissed in the west!!) and courses of great people have remained pivoted around a couple of decisions that have changed the course of things (me writing this blog for instance, damn did i "decide" to to be cheeky here) yet i have wondered (yeah my cranbox is wobbling, what do you expect when you are rotting in your hostel in vacations)watching a coin being tossed in a match the crowd going fancy when the favorites win that toss i often look at the heads and tails, anti-parallel? orthogonal? complementary? substitutes? what is a coin, how easily does it arrive to a decision agreeable to all, no qualms no cribbing, but what if the coin were to stand ( sholay anyone???) what does it "stand" for, what lies in the "middle", maybe coins may never suffer from such oddity( loads of physics would have to work together to have this happen) but the coin of life is alas deformed, and physics were of little relevance, how to "decide" weren't mere heads and tails but a gamut of near heads, almost tails, some demand neither to "stand" up and it is strange how when i look around me i find myself torn between two ends, each weighing its "end" to make the coin more biased, the coins are alas flipped everyday everywhere and yet there is little we can do take Isreal( jews right to live) and Palestine( but wasnt it there land) two ends of a coin, Atheism( whom to look for answers) or Religion( what is religion giving us?), Capitalism( recession??) or Socialism( screwed up systems), Empowerment(just the right amount of control) and Independence( go ahead, Laissez-Faire), onemanship or multipartyship ( look at our state of affairs), peaceful resentment, fighting with the system within the framework or an armed aggression to a quasi system, arranged marriage( statistics which our parents gleefully point to)to love marriage( what happens if it just........vanishes)

Well there is no questions as versus here but to as to what we "decide" for our lives as "right" and "wrong" , as it is based upon what we have seen around us, what we "perceive" what we "believe" ( or made to)yet decisions in whatever form we take (we or I),(congress or BJP),( baritsa or CCD), (heads or tails)the consequence is on us on others maybe just like the butterfly effect( the flap of wings of butterfly can cause a tornado somewhere) but i wonder and i wonder the region in the middle of them, hoping that it weren't a no man's land, a region to exist, a place to escape, a reason to hide........ i wish the coin to stand so that i could have that little extra.....a little more to ponder upon in the mindless life i live......... I wish the coin would stand on its feet and break into the cacophony........... how i wish it could happen...........................

Well the stage is set, the auditorium has been finalized( a far cry from the Vintage auditorium of my dear college). The invitations are being sent out in frenzy, the sponsors are being hunted, the item dancers being preyed for........ hold ur breath THE CRACKATOPIA awards...... well its awards season and every damn channel is selling a trophy( the nominess are ........, the gala night, watch the stars comin on my damn idiotbox)so these awards are not (ooooooo... OSCARS) or the damn (........ RAZZIES) but a proper ceremonial awards on the internet with a lot of paparazzi( oh! i am lovin it) So the hunt has begun for the sponsors( a sponsor who identifies that his brand can go down with me!!!!)and the best part is ITEM SONGS( aah now comes my part)so the list is fairly simple, we have asked Britney to do a Womanizer encore( please keep children at home), for the sake of good old times Janet Jackson has agreed to arrange a wardrobe for the show. Then we have the usual platoon of singers who will croon all through the night, So the TEMPTATIONS be FORGETTABLE and let us concentrate on more SERIOUS things, oki the statute must be of a certain purpose(let it be souvenir of the past year ah! the FAMOUS SHOE size 10 black leather!!! and encrust it with swaroski crystals (oye taste shaste ke liye)and the anchor finally RAAKHI SAAWANT ( well i wanted her to be wacked by a swaroski shoe by someone from media who would get tired of her crushed cat face and she will go cryin on all TV channles== publicity of my awards). So let us start the glamour ceremony.............
The nite begins with

The Lost In Confusion Award : Abhishek Bachhan in Drona( dude ever seen a jackass on horse).

The What the Hell Was That Award : Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi ( i better get my DNA tattoed so that my goddamn wife recognizes me, or better get SRK a Lenovo Laptop please.........)

The Who Let The Dogs Out Award : Meryll Lynch( fella we still don't know how long will it rain cats and dogs )

The WMD of the year : Mamta Bannerjee( no comments here some names speak enough)

The Cook of The Year : Ramalinga Raaju ( "IT" was being "cooked" for the past three years).

The Director of The Year: LeT ( they directed the blockbuster of the year from Karachi, people in this country produce shit like make direction from LeT compulsary in NSD)

The IRAQI INFORMATION MINISTER award : Dr Zaid Hamid ( i still love his zionist part and the babe who was the senator).(Dr Amar Singh was a close second)

The Phrase of The Year : NON-STATE ACTORS( the left parties of India have formed a unioun to protect their rights and will go on indefinite strike of the year).

The TURN COAT of the year: Well all you PAKIs ( Zardari, Gilani, Sookhani, Marjaani and whatever deserve apiece of the jewel in black).

The FAUX PAS of the Year : Uma Bharti( for releasing a CD on Vote for Cash Scam, a total hoax as her character)

The Scandal Of The Year : Is Raghu a Gay????( watch him oogling the cuts of Sufi Malhotra in Mumbai Auditions)


The MOVIE of the Year : DESHDROHI............( u deserve it fella even the ban in Maharshtra cudnt sell your tickets)

The INDIAN IDLE of the year : Stockbroker( what where you doin when the stocks were in free fall)

The CRYOVERSPILLEDMILK award: FORD( we want $25b to make cars we never wanted to sell and thought no one would buy)

The Bakra of the Year : Indian Intelligence( every time a blast occurs these underpaid, undertrained people are blamed for the skeletons in cupboard).

The MADAM TUSSUAD Statue of the Year:Shivraj Patil( for striking a picture perfect statute after every blast, hum high command se baat karke kuch faisla lenge)

and Finally The Biggest of em all

THE CRACKATOPIA AWARD calling upon SRK,AK,SK to announce the award( no fights please gentlemen) and the award goes to.........................

These suckers only for fighting over a goddamn fiefdom called bollywood........ have a great new year............