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Insanely Inane Thoughts

If fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke.

Internal Dialogues - II

Saturday, April 30, 2005
Previously on Internal Dialogues

"Should I or shouldn't I; should I or shouldn't I; should I or shouldn't I"
"What's up, dickhead?"
"What the..."
"It's me again; your innervice."
"I meant innervoice; it's called a freudian slip."
"I figured as much."
"If you can figure as much, why the hell did you have to ask me about it, peabrain?"
"Aren't you forgetting the little pact we had before; about being nice to each other."
"Ahh yes; the crybaby can't take a little flak."
"You are such an asshole for an innervoice, you know that?"
"I can only try; besides what were you deliberating about?"
"I wasn't deliberating about anything at all."
"Of course you were; what's with the should I's and shouldn't I's?"
"You are my innervoice; you tell me what it was all about."
"I'm your innervoice, not a magic eight-ball; you talk to me about the issue and I'll help you screw it up."
"Screw it up?!?"
"Damn these freudian slips!!"
"I swear, I really do; it was a freudian slip; I'm here for one thing and one thing alone: to help you make vice decisions."
"Vice or wise?"
"Spell it out for me please; I don't trust you anymore."
"Awwww c'mon man, have you sunk so low that you will question my integrity?!?"
"I didn't know you had any integrity; glad to know it exists in your dictionary."
"Haha; you really crack me up."
"Just going by the Bible; do unto to thy neighbor as you would do unto thyself."
"Hmmmm...; interesting."
"What is?!?"
"I know that you like to wank off; so that's do unto thyself; so does that mean do unto thy neighbor...."
"You have been seeing way too many porno movies, dude."
"When you mean you, you know you actually mean we; right?"
"Nevermind.Speaking of porno, did you think of XXX-2?"
"Ohh man, it sucked big time; but what does XXX and porno have in common other than the title?!?"
"I'll tell ya; XXX-2 was like a porno-action movie."
"Yeah dude; there's this climax every ten minutes and you know it's all fake; it can't get more porno than that!"
"Ha; you aren't such bad company sometimes."
"I would be nicer if you weren't such an ignoramus."
"I knew you would say something like that."
"Anyways, what were you thinking about before I came to your rescue."
"Came to my rescue?!?"
"You know; thinking and you don't go so well."
"I am running out of profanities that I can shower upon thy divine self."
"I have quite a few in reserve, dickweed."
"Dickweed?Dickweed?Earth to dickweed, Earth to dickweed."
"Sometimes I wish I could have an out of body experience."

Making it in Mumbai City - II

Thursday, April 28, 2005
Before going on to part deux, check out part I, of which this is a continuation:

Making it in Mumbai City - I

Getting Around

Moving about Mumbai is quite simple.You can ride on the train, the bus, the cabs and the rickshaws; ensure that you don't get taken for a ride when on a cab or a rickshaw.When in the suburbs, the rickshaws can be the vehicle of choice for tourists.Travelling to areas within downtown Mumbai is usually done by cabs.

Another aspect to deal with while travelling is the honking.In Mumbai, it is impolite not to honk.If a fellow cabbie honks, your cabbie must reply with a honk of his own.If he doesn't, it is as symbolic as the middle finger.Also if one cabbie honks, he usually gets all the vehicles around him to honk.Sometimes even cyclists, who have no honks, honk on their kerchiefs/hankies.We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust, or, just to mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the road.

If you are planning to go downtown from the suburbs, you can take the train.The railways can be quite discriminatory; get a physical done before travelling by the train.Only if you have been branded as Hulk Hogan or Batista should you think of taking the train during peak hours.You need all the muscle just to stay in the train; relax for a moment and you might end up as another statistic related to death via train travel.There is a positive in all of this; you have no need to join any gyms when in the city; a train ride more than makes up for your gym sessions.

For information on bus travel, read the above paragraph and substitute "train" for "bus".

Also, due to such close proximity to a species known as Man, whom women also like to refer as pigs, it would be wise to read up on personal safety before embarking upon any journey.

Now that we have talked about trains, bus, cabs and rickshaws; let us dwell on the roads on which these vehicles ply on.To put it simply; they simply don't exist.If they do, the municipal corporation does its best to dig it up under the guise of furthering the infrastructure of our great city.

Sidewalks exist but pedestrians hardly use it because of Mumbai's unwritten land rule.

Speaking the language

Officially, Mumbai speaks Marathi which is the local language.However, she also speaks English,Hindi and an assortment of other languages.

Apart from English, you would need to know some words of Hindi.Words like "Shukriya" which means thank you and "Nahin" whichs means no(to keep away the pesky touts).Just a few spattering of local words will floor the locals who are suckers for people who seem to know their language.It doesn't happen abroad when they speak English and the locals over there end up fawning over their apparent mastery of linguistic skills; it happens only in India!

You could also learn a few curse words; use them judiciously.Learning curse words can be a breeze provided to travel in the right cab or rickshaw 'cause they use it like water.I could teach you guys some curse words but it takes away the sheen of learning the enunciation of each word.You can also use it on your friends when you are really pissed or just want to make a mickie out of them.

Friend: "blah blah blah...." (really pissing you off)
You: "You are such a *insert curse word*, friend"
Friend: "Hey, what does that mean?!?"
You: "It means that you are a good friend"
Friend: *beams ignorantly*

Eating out

Food is not a problem in Mumbai; right from pretentious international cuisine to lip-smacking roadside delicacies, they come in no flavor to all flavor over here.

Food isn't expensive as long as you eat at the right places.Some of the more frequented eateries lie in South Mumbai; right from Geoffrey's to Pizzeria to McDonalds to Leopolds to Udipi to Mondegar.You just need to look out for Gastroenteritis, diarrhea and maybe typhoid while gorging yourself silly with the yummy food.


Mumbai has an extremely vibrant nightlife; here are a few illustrations to drive home the point:

Oops, not this.

Nope, not this either.Let's try again.

Yeah, that's more like it.


Principal creatures: Dogs

Mumbai has a lot of these.Infact you may even begin to think that the city's chief inhabitant is the dog and humans are just their pets.The municipal corporation had started putting these dogs on sedatives so that they could be put to sleep but some people got very offended because people in Mumbai hardly sleep and it's just fair that the animals don't either.Since the dogs were left awake; they started screwing like dogs and before we knew it; we had a lot of them.Some people believe that there is a secret movement of dogs seeking to control the city.That's why they keep saying that the city is going to the dogs.

Medical tourism

Another concept which is picking up rather quickly.Mumbai offers to you medical facilities at half the rates at which they are charged in your city.Here is a snapshot of what Mumbai hospitals can do for you:

and yes, at half the rates!


Many come to Mumbai to see the Gateway of India; it's not really worth it.What is worth your visit to Mumbai is this:

Yup, now that you have seen the holy cow, your knowledge of Mumbai city is complete.

Armed with these tips, you can now lead a stressfree life in Mumbai!

Making it in Mumbai City

Tuesday, April 26, 2005
For the uneducated; Mumbai is a city on the west coast of India.It's one of the best and also one of the worst.This write-up is to help tourists make a well-rounded opinion about this beautiful city.

The fact that this write-up has been outsourced to Illinois has no bearing on the points being made henceforth.

Stop outsourcing to India.

It's a wonderful place; really!

Getting here

There are three ways to make it to Mumbai: Land, air and sea.

Land- Don't use the land route; you will be mugged or fleeced or kidnapped or killed; in no specific order.

Sea - Don't use the sea route; you will be mugged or fleeced or kidnapped or killed; again, in no specific order.

Air - One of the more safer options; you won't be mugged or fleeced or kidnapped, the only danger being a plane crash or a hijack.
If your plane crashes and you manage to survive the crash; check where you are.If you are on land or in sea; you might be in for a little bit of mugging, fleecing, kidnapping or murder.

There is a way out of this; don't come to Mumbai.

Inspite of these warning, if you decide to come to Mumbai; welcome to hell; ermm, Mumbai


Don't worry about housing.If you have loads of money and are still alive to spend it; lavish yourself by renting out a flat in South Mumbai or by checking into one of the hep hotels.

On the other hand; if you have no money and are also still alive to talk about it; don't worry about housing.Just find a nice spot outside posh apartments or hep hotels in South Mumbai and make yourself comfortable.The unwritten rule about land in Mumbai is: if people aren't living on it; live on it.

You can find out more about hotels in Mumbai by clicking on the ads; ads are meant to be clicked (yes, I really need the money)

Perfecting Mumbai attitude

Bitch about everything but do nothing about it.

If you live in one of the posh apartments in Mumbai and find some bum living on the sidewalk outside your apartment; bitch about it.
If you are one of the bums living on a sidewalk close to a posh apartment in Mumbai; bitch about it.
If you live neither in a posh aprtment or on the sidewalk but are one of the millions who just about scrape through for a daily living; bitch about the both of them.

If you join any political parties in Mumbai; bitch about the bum with the posh guy and bitch about the posh guy with the street bum.Convince them that you will take care of the other, ask for a donation and once you get the money, forget about the two of them until you are up for re-election.While in office, lick up to the just-about-scraping-by guy and bitch to him about how the posh guy and the street bum have made their issues a non-issue.Ask for a donation and once the money comes through, forget about him until you are up for re-election.

Public Amenities

If you get water, be happy about it.
If you get food, be happy about it.
If you get both water and food, be doubly happy about it.
If you get neither; beg,borrow and steal.

If you feel like taking a leak and can find no public restrooms nearby, fear not.Another unwritten rule about land in Mumbai is: If people aren't living on it, pee on it.

If you spot a policeman approaching you, don't worry.Chances are that he too is coming there to take a leak.

Places to crap:

Home bathroom; public restroom; by the railway track; by the roadside; again in no specific order.

Places to chuck garbage:

Home dustbin, public bins, by the railway track; by the roadside; it's your call.

Personal Safety

Mumbai is a relatively safe place; if you carry a knife, a chopper, a gun or all three.If you have never felt the urge to use either of the three, you are probably dead.

The police are very efficient; they outdo the criminals in every aspect.

If you are a chick, you might be subjected to some perverse stares, cat-calling and the occasional groping.Now would be the time to use the kinfe,the chopper and/or the gun.You could knife the bastard, chop of his balls and gun down his weenie.

If you are a dude, you might be subjected to some knifing, ball-chopping and weenie blasting.You might also be groped before being subjected to either of the three.

If you are a eunuch, you have already been knifed,ball chopped and weenie blasted.

A Series Of Unfortunate Events

Monday, April 25, 2005
"So why did you ask me out?"

Her eyes were on me as she asked me that question.I was staring at the ceiling as if it held within its self the essence of the Sistine chapel.A spider darted across the ceiling as if to suggest that I had intruded upon its privacy.

The jukebox moaned out a classic which was hardly discernable over the chatter of the daily crowd.I had a stinking suspicion that the jukebox was as old, if not older, than the song itself.

Her eyes were still on me; waiting for an answer.I finally looked at her as my fingers drummed over the surface of the table.I would have to answer her question unless there was a lightening strike, a sudden squall or a sudden squall accompanied by lightening strikes.I looked over her shoulder, through the window, and saw nothing but clear, blue skies.

Bah, where were the nasty little thunderbolts when you really needed then?

Alright, if not a squall and lightening strikes then leaky water sprinklers and a blown fuse would have to do.I close my eyes and open them; shirt is still dry and the lights are as bright as ever.Maybe I should just light a match and throw it over the wooden table and then try to douse the fire by flinging in some alcohol "mistaking" it for water.I doubt if that would work because the alcohol over here is just piss water.

Hmmm, I wonder what piss water does to fires.....

"Why are you smiling goofily looking down at your beer?"

Quick, say something witty.

"Ahhh, ummmm"

Say something.


Say anything.

"I just thought of that stupid ad; you know the McDowell's one?"

"What about that ad?", she asks me curiously.

"Well, you know; they have a punch line which goes "No.1, mera(my) no.1"."

"Go on...", she says, her interest rather piqued.

"Well, the punch line is, how should I put it, rather ironic.You have guys claiming it to be "mera no.1"; the drink looks suspiciously yellow and yet people continue to buy it...", I drawl as I gulp down my draught.

"Yuck; did you really have to tell me that right now while I was getting cozy with my glass of beer? Guys can be so disgusting sometimes...", she says rather venomously.

And as it was bound to happen, I let out a loud burp just as she finished with her statement.She looks at me, incredulous.Sensing that anything else I might say might lead to bodily harm, I just shrug my shoulders and pat my stomach.

She looks away fairly repulsed.

Great going buddy; not only do you suggest that what she is drinking maybe piss, you go on to reaffirm that most guys are pigs.If I succeed in repulsing her completely, she might actually become a nun.

Here I am serving God by flocking more girls to his Kingdom and he can't even send down a measly little thunderbolt.He can be so ungrateful at times.

"Can you pass me the ketchup please, Rohit?", she asks rather coolly.

I grab hold of the bottle and pretend to pass it over to her.She reaches over and grabs nothing but a wistful of air; a tiny smile dances on her lips.Yeah baby, damage control is in full flow.

I lob the ketchup bottle at her like a grenade; she catches hold of it and then there is blood all over.At first glance, it certainly seemed like blood.


I didn't know she would squeeze the ketchup bottle; it was a squeeze-me bottle.I can still picture the smile with which she caught it before she had ketchup all over her face.I didn't know if she was red with embarrassment or with rage.

I apologize to her profusely; dab little napkins at her face to wipe off the ketchup.And then, I opened my stupid mouth again.

"You know, if a doctor saw you right now; he would give you a clean chit and say that you are in the pink of health."

Humor didn't work for most the evening and it certainly didn't work then.

She looks at me with an absolute lack of expression, just as the waiter got us our bill, and asks me the same question again: Why did I ask her out again?

In hindsight, I should have given her a honest answer because she just stormed off on me.Coming back to the question she asked me, all I could think of, at the spur of the moment with the bill in my hand, was:

"I was dead broke and hungry; I thought you would have liked to buy me dinner."

Bullies And Us

Saturday, April 23, 2005
It hadn't been a good day; the pop quiz we had was shitty and the Professor even more shitty.The bell went off; reviving, in all of us, the part that was humane.

Ninad, Tony and me grabbed our books and headed off towards the water cooler.The three of us were discussing about how we were going to assassinate our professors when some seniors ran past us laughing like crazy.

"This is us two years from now," I told them.
"No, crazy..."

This evoked some pity laugh from them; not because the joke was sad but the fact that I was.

Ninad tried to imitate the crazies who had just ran past us laughing.We walked ahead, laughing.However, it seems like the crazies had heard Ninad imitating them and had decided to take offense.

So just as we hit the water cooler the crazies hit us.Well, they didn't hit us hit us but they still hit us.They knew that it was Ninad who had been laughing at their laugh and unlike some people who enjoy a good laugh, they cornered us with pens in their hand.

It wasn't that we were scared but hey, a pen is mightier than a sword.And besides that, I think they wanted to write us off.....

They were two and we were three but since they were seniors, we thought it might be smarter to act more responsibly.It's a known fact that seniors have their heads up their arse which would explain why they are so full of shit.

Well, they were still two and none the prettier.

Shitface #1 seemed like the stereotyped bully; a face that could have been mistaken for a Halloween mask, a body that could have been mistaken for a beached whale, a brain that could have been mistaken for a vestigial organ.

Shitface #2 was more the jock type; muscles at all the wrong places.

Shitface #2 bellowed out at Ninad:

"Who the fuck were you mocking?"
"Mocking? We weren't mocking anybody, just having a good time with each other"
"We heard you mock us, you lard of fat"

Now now, Ninad wasn't really fat and he is slightly cocky as well:

"Shitface #1, I think he is talking to you"

Shitface #1 awakens from his slumber and stares at Ninad rasther blankly.

"Why do you say that?"
"He said lard of fat, I thought he was referring to you rather affectionately"

Shitface #2 is enraged; he eyes crinkle up, nose flares up and he starts blustering rather stupidly.He looks somewhat like this:

Shitface #1 is confused; is the fight with us or with Shitface #2?

While all of this was going on, Tony and I were by the wayside struggling to keep our laughter down.Tony decides to step in while I still struggle with the laughter.

"Guys, guys; relax.We weren't mocking anybody and even if you think we were, we are sorry"

A diplomat in the making.

Shitface #2 isn't happy.

"You juniors think that you are the bloody maharajahs of the college; somebody needs to teach you all a good lesson..."
"That's what our professors do; maybe you guys have been skipping too many classes," Ninad quips.
"You insolent little prats; first you mock us and now you taunt us...."
"About the mocking we ain't so sure but taunting.."

Shitface #1 seems to have come to speed with the happenings.He grabs Ninad by the collar:

"Which year, punk?"

He brings Ninad closer to his face; Ninad later recounts that he saw maggots in his mouth

"Stop acting smart and answer my question; which year students are you?"
"Ahhh...err.... first year"

Actually, we were in the second year but Ninad wants to have some more fun.

"Show me your ID, punk"
"Because I want to be your special friend, punk"

I don't know which year Shitface #1 was living in so I quip in:

"Isn't Clink Eastwood a little passé, punk?"

Shitface #1 releases Ninad and glares at us; unsure who said this; brain overload is a possible candidate.

"You guys stay out of this; it's between this joker and us"

Speaking of us, Shitface #2 comes into his own.

"Show us the ID, loser" (To Ninad)
"I appreciate that you want to be my special friend but even Dean wanted to be my special friend; he took away my ID this morning"

Shitfaces look unconvinced; rightly so.

."Stop acting fresh with us, fresher or we might have to teach you some lessons...."
"Speaking of ID's, can I see your identification now?I'm not really convinced you are our seniors," Ninad retorts.

Shitfaces are looking at us, incredulous.It seems like they are surprised to know that we have something known as balls.

"You want to see our ID; a fresher wants to ID his senior??"
"Yes please; if you have problems understanding I can repeat the words I say slowly.S-H-O-W U-S Y-O-U....."
"Enough of this nonsense; aren't you juniors late for you class?"

Wow; talk about turnarounds.

"Not as late as you peeps are"
"We let you guys off for now; if we find you mocking any seniors again, we might have to take things into our hands..."
"C'mon guys, no need to talk about sexual abuse; we will try to stay out of your way and you guys keep your things to yourself"
"Finally; we talked some sense into you freshers"

Shitfaces walk away; and we tank up our bottles with water.

It hadn't been such a bad day after all.

Internal Dialogues - I

Friday, April 22, 2005
"Friggin hell; it's so boring here."
"You can say that again."
"Huh... who said that?"
"Yup; you got a problem with that, boy?"
"Speak up, will ya?"
"So you are really God?"
"Yes, you dodo; I'm God;kneel down before me or else I shall have to smite you through your balls."
"Wow, for a God, you are awfully crude."
"Ohhhh man, so you really are THAT dumb."
" 'cuse me?"
"I ain't no friggin God; and for all it's worth, you don't even believe in God."
"Who am I?"
"If you don't know who you are, sorry, I can't help you; even I don't know who you are?"
"No no, you numbskull; weren't you going to ask me who I was?"
"I was; but since you don't know who you are, I guess it's not much of a question anyways"
"Are you really that dense; all I did was complete your question for you"
"So you are claiming to be omniscient?"
"Darn, I can't believe I got stuck in a body like you"
"Explain yourself"
"What's there to explain; I'm you"
"You are me?"
"Yes, I'm you."
"And I'm I"
"So you are me and I am I"
"We are both you"
"But wasn't I always me?"
"Enough already; I'll make it simpler for you Einstein; I'm your inner voice"
"You' re my inner voice?"
"Were you like born yesterday?"
"No no, I've been with you since time immemorial"
"Then why is it that I've never heard you speak up before?"
"Because I never agreed with you on any issues; until today"
"What happened today?"
"You said; "Friggin hell; it's so boring here" "
"I agree; it is boring here; here being inside you"
"You are very subtle; for an inner voice"
"I try"
"So, from now on, you are going to be more regular?"
"With our conversations?"
"No no; as my sex buddy; of course; with our conversations!"
"I usually prefer more intelligent company but you will do"
"Are you implying something?"
"Not as much as you are implicating yourself"
"Go to Hell..."
"Given a choice, I would; but one could say that this is Hell of another sort"
"Okay; you be nice and I'll be nice.Deal?"
"I said "deal"?"
"You still there?"
"Why did you stop talking"
"I was trying to be nice"
"Why you cheeky little bastard!"
"Heh, that was fun; okay, you have yourself a deal.But I warn you; while I'm with you; there will be absolutely no touching"
"How can I touch you; you are just a voice!"
"I might be just a voice but I can still feel things; as long as we talk; you keep your hands to yourself"
"I'll try"
"No, try is not good enough; petting yourself is out of bounds; it cheapens our conversations and make me feel like I've been used"
"Good, then..... ouuuuuuuch; your horny little runt; what did I just tell you about touching yourself?"
"Hehe; sorry, just pulling your leg"
"Quite literally too"
"Okay, can we talk about more important stuff?"
"Sure; what do you have in mind?"
"Whoaaaa; hold your horses, mate.This is, like, our first date and you want to prat about Love?"
"We will talk about it eventually so why not now?"
"Okay; eventually you might want to get a vasectomy done so why not now?"
"Okay, okay; I get your point; no need to rub it in"
"Sometimes you are so dense that even a particle accelerator might fail in firing your synapses"
"You aren't be nice; I suggest you shut the hell up"
"Good riddance to bad rubbish"
"Nice epitaph; why don't you keep it?"
"Sod off, fucktards"

An Afternoon At G's

Tuesday, April 19, 2005
"Chocolate or vanilla?", he asks.

The midday sun belts down on us and here he is, asking me which flavor of a cigar I would like.What makes it even more ironic is that I don't smoke.I look at Debo, incredulous, and tell him "What the fuck do I care?Vanilla, chocolate or shit-flavored, it's your choice."
"Hmmmm, but then the smoke should be the flavor you like", he says.
"You're trippin already, man."

He delibrates a lot; making me wonder if he has ever looked at a biochemistry book with such unwavering concentration.He zeroes in on Vanilla.

"Boss, give me Vanilla," and he hands over some money.

I buy some mint and that prompts Debo to buy some mint himself.At the rate at which we buy mint, the paan-walah must have been thinking that this was a new contraceptive method.

"Jaldi kar, those guys must be at G's already.".At the metnion of G's, Debo speeds up his purchase and we head off towards G's.G's is short for a joint we visit frequently; at every visit, we frequent a joint.

A cool breeze of air greets us as we make our way in the AC-section of G's.It's almost empty save a guy who is staring down furiously into his glass; perhaps hoping to find where his next lay is going to come from.

"And what is the meaning of life?", Andya asks me from behind.He had just emptied his bladder in anticipation of the fuel which will get him going again.
"Since you were so deep in thought, I thought you found out the answer to what the meaning of life was.Now if you move your ass to the table, we can get down to what we really came for instead of a discourse of life", he tells me while striding purposefully towards our table.
"Bastard," I say and smile.

There were six of us, including me, so we joined in two tables and sat right next to the AC.Debo was busy flaunting the cigar as if it were given to him personally by Fidel Castro.Others looked pointedly interested in the cigar until the waiter handed us the menu card.

"Vodka....Rum....60 ml neat....A pitcher of beer..ohh..two pitchers of beer...peanuts...paneer-chilly...kekda fry...", our voices merged as one as we rattled off our cardinal desires.

"And a bottle of Thums up with some ice by the side", I told the waiter just before he left.The others burst out laughing at this addition.

Yes, it's true.I don't do alcohol as well.Instead I pour some cola into a glass, pretend it's neat rum and go bottoms-up with the others.

"But the fucker does end up getting high on Thums up.Saala, in Khandala, all he had was apple juice and he was more high than any of us.How he does this is beyond me", Ashish tells the others.

"You guys don't know what getting high is.Arre, the other day, my friend had gone to a party and it seems he had a little more than he could handle.Within twenty minutes, he was up in the terrace sitting on top of the water tank.And then he sees something black on the otherside of the tank.He thought it was a crow and to make it go away, he threw his fucking cell-phone at it.Can you believe it?!?He throws a fucking cell-phone, a camere-phone, to be precise.But he denies being any part of this.Saala, Aubrey is also one gone-case", I tell them.

This cracks up Andya so bad that he starts laughing violently.Those who don't know Andya may mistake his laughter for a bout of fits because when he laughs laughs, he starts to bang the table and shake it real hard.And man, is it contagious.All of us burst out laughing.

At Andya or with Andya, we still don't know.

"Fuck men, where the hell is the beer?", Ashish says impatiently.Typically him, ready to booze anytime."Chill, brother.It'll be here shortly", Lamuk says as he lights up his smoke.Typically him, never flustered.And true to his word, the booze was here in no time.

Everybody held their glass of beer, or cola as in my case, with a growing sense of anticiaption."Cheers," we exclaimed and had our first sip.

"Did you guys know that this place used to be a gay pick-up joint?", I ask the others.Everyone looks at each other.Tony looks at Ashish and says slowly "Free tonight?".Ashish giggles like a girl and downs his beer."Beer beer, I want more beer."

Debo is looking zonked.He is staring into his empty glass and smiling."High already?", Andya asks him.Debo looks down at his pants and say "Not yet, my friend, not yet."Andya bursts out laughing yet again while Ashish runs off to relieve himself.

By now, everybody bar me had started smoking.Well, almost everybody.Antony was struggling to light his smoke as always.He has a very peculiar problem wherein his hands always start shaking no matter what he catches hold of.

We call him the passive jerker.

Lamuk decides to put an end to Antony's misery and lights up the smoke for him.

The air was swirling with smoke; our mind with delusions of grandeur.Thomas hadn't made his appearance back from the loo and Andya begins to pour himself a drink from an empty pitcher.When I point out to him that his pitcher is empty, he looks at me curiously and says, "Pitcher teri maa" and starts bellowing with laughter.

The lone ranger, who had been wondering where his next lay was going to come from, has had enough of us and leaves in a jiffy.He almost bangs into Ashish who was staggering back towards us singing himself silly.

I look upto Ashish and exclaim in wonder, "You're back pretty early.Did you fuckin' remember to pee for me?Saala, we thought that you had a contract with the BMC for supplying the whole of Bombay with water.What took you soo long?"

This prompts Lamuk to give his customary fake laugh at our senile jokes; he thinks we are stupid and what we think is none of your business.

Ashish slides into his seat while sinking his teeth into some sumptuous kekda fry and spits out some gibberish which was supposed to answer our queries.We have since then discovered that no matter what Ashish drinks, he always has to pee in excess of three minutes.

"Okay guys, now for the big thing," Debo says.We all look at Debo who rumages through his pants."Dude, we were just joking about the gay pick-up joint thing.Don't bother to show us your pick-up joint," I tell him.He looks at me as if I were some insignificant being and brings out his much vaunted cigar.Everyone applauds Debo as if he had just performed a David Blainesque feat.

He lights up the cigar and takes in a big puff.We then pass around the cigar with deference.Everyone seems content including the waiter who had just brought us our rather outrageous bill.

Payment's a bitch but then again you can't have a joint and smoke it too.Unless, of course, your name happens to be Marilyn Manson.


Near the entrance of the Church:
"He who doesn't live with Hope is already dead"

Scribbled beneath:
"Who is Hope,where does she live and what is her home number?"


Wednesday, April 13, 2005
A smallish room; well-furbished with teak furniture.The blinds on the window choke the streaming sunrays with startling efficiency.The fan whirrs with a quiet ferocity while a lone bulb engulfs the room with a ravenous appetite.The bulb throws light over a poster of Baywatch babes which reads, oddly enough, as "Feeling cocky yet?"

Water glistens over the coaster as tiny beads of condensation trickles down the surface of an imposing crystal glass.Much of the contents of the glass is left untouched.Infact, there are three such glasses, each having a different story to tell.

These glasses belong to three barely pubescent boys who have just landed themselves with a timeless treasure called summer holidays.With no imposing adult in the house, they have been left to their own whims and fancy.

Summer holidays can be a terribly boring time if you have no idea of what to do.Having entertained themselves to a game of wrestling, these kids are running out of ideas.

The wrestling match, by itself, was loads of fun.While one of the three acted as the referee, the other two donned to the persona of the Undertaker and Ric Flair.The match was progressing well enough until the dirtiest player of the game decided to land a low-blow on the Dead man.It was safe to say that the Dead man was feeling terribly "cocky" for quite sometime while Ric Flair smiled with unabashed glee.

Once the Dead man was feeling lively again, he decided to show his friends some of stuff that he has stashed up in his computer.He closed the door and paraded to his friends the photographs of several ladies in their birthday suits.As the others "oohed" and "aahhed", he turned on his masterpiece; a home video of a certain baywatch star.

Just as things were heating up and the horny, young boys were going into throes of excitement; the maidservant walks in.

The boys shut up and the only sound one can hear is of a woman calling out to, a name that one usually associates with pet dogs, Tommy.

Now, there are many ways one could have handled this, errrm, delicate situation; but the Dead man started feeling cocky again:

"Why didn't you knock before letting yourself in?" (The voice was as commanding as one that a 13-year old could muster)
"I did knock but all I could hear were groans; I though someone might have been hurt while wrestling" (The maidservant was 15; she lives with these people)
"Well, now that you are in; you may as well as watch the video with us but don't tell Papa."

Funnily enough, she didn't tell Papa.

The Secret Diary of Saurav Ganguly


Won the toss, things might turn around... darn, Sachin's out.Be back in a few.
Lasted one ball; only thing to around was me; back to the pavillion.

Fuckin ball keeps following me; I nearly got socked by a pullshot off Butt.He nearly made me the butt of all jokes.

Won the match; next match will be mine!


Won the toss again; things are looking up.This match...; darn, Sachin's out again.I'm sending in Dhoni; if he fails and I score, he will make me look good.Wicked plan, eh?

I tell you, I'm going to take the Paki's to the cleaners.

Got cleaned up by Sami; and the little twerp named Dhoni scored 148.But I'm not out of form; I can tell you this from the fact that I managed to outscore Sachin as well as Kaif; they made 2 and 0 while I made 9!

Won the match; next match might be mine.


Lost the toss; things are going from good to bad.

Pakistan piled up 313; over-rate was really slow.I think my bowlers are trying to get me suspended by the match-refree; they care so much about me *sniff sniff*

Today I outscored Sehwag and Yuvraj; they made 3 while I made 4.I'm back in form, baybee!

Chris Broad isn't as smart as I would have hoped; he merely fined me 70% of my match-fee.For a man who is biased against Asian players, he seemed quite genial.

Ohhh and by the way, we lost the match.Next match will be mine!


Won the toss again; things are looking up again!

The match started late; pitch was damp.I think the curators were trying to help me by foiling the match from taking place.

Managed to score 315; today, I outscored Kaif.I think he is the one who is out of form; might have to drop him.

Pakistan won off the last ball; terrific match.I tried to bribe Inzi with free french fries for one year; it didn't work.Maybe I should have talked to him in Hindi, I don't think he understood my offer.

Got called up by Chris Broad again; for the slow over-rate.Managing a slow over-rate for two consecutive matches is hard work; I think he appreciated the effort I put into it and packed me off for 6 matches.

I owe it all to my ever-supportive team-mates without whom this wouldn't have been possible.Infact, I made up a little jingle which might make Zaheer happy: Zach makes it possible.

Like I stated in the previous entry, this match was mine.Now I will have more time for endorsements.


Tuesday, April 05, 2005
That's strange, I thought to myself.

I was feeling a little woozy; a little out of breath.I became more acutely aware of my surroundings as the noose tightened around my neck.I could feel the bile rushing into my mouth; it lashed against my teeth as waves do against wavebreakers.Torrents of bile sloshed along my tongue; it felt bitter than ever.

The hands eased itself around my neck; it's vice-like grip accentuated the feeling of helplessness I was wallowing in.I sucked in as much of air as I could and then a wave of nausea hit me.

I staggered in vain as I tried to fight off my captor; I had been measured and I was found wanting.

Don't worry folks; this is just a general description of what altitude sickness is all about.These were some of my feelings as I struggled with altitude sickness the last time I was on a trek.It wasn't pretty and it's safe to say that I would rather dance naked with a tribe that cannibalizes on people who dance naked than go over the entire affair of feeling mountain sick again.

While on the trek, a couple of incidents come to my mind.

We were a group of eight.Most of us were first-timers; the enormity of the occasion still escapes many.

So there we were; wheezing along the trail like asthmatics.While our eyes were being treated to the most amazing of vista's one could envision, our lungs were being delivered knock-out punches.

I was feeling rather knackered so I chatted up with a pal of mine who was in front of me:

"So, how high have you been before this?"
"I think this is about the highest I've been; 14000 feet"
"What about you?"
"I've been higher."
"Really?How high?" (incredulity laced his words)
"Hmmmm.... about 35,00 feet"
"Impossible!" (wheezing incredulity laced his words)
"So you have never ever been on a plane before?"

I swear that if I had been in front of my friend he would have pushed me off the cliff.

On our way, we stayed over in an ashram where several other travellers were also being housed.Well, it was time for dinner and all of us assembled in the community hall.There was no electricity, as one would expect as 14,000 feet, and most of us had to recognize each other via body odors or body gropes.

Anyway, we squated down on the cold floor as our knees bounced off each others.Some of my friends were sitting across of me and, well, they had some other weary travellers sitting next to them.

One such traveller was struggling to fit himself next to my friend.My friend, being as generous and kind-hearted as he is, shifted his frozen butt cheeks a little to accomodate the other dude.However, his efforts went unappreciated as the dude hardly noticed my friend moving away.He should have left it at that but then he said these words:

"You can spread your legs now."

These words, under any circumstances, sound rather suspicious.But when it is being growled out at you by an absolute stranger in an alien place which is shrouded in darkness, I was rather surprised that all the person did was scream and run away.

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