An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Six

Today is Day Six. I am linking chapter six of the e-novella, 'An Orkut Love Story.' to  Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter Six

“Kuch toh bol..anything na? (Say something na?),” Swagata greets me.

Kya baaki rehegaya (What’s there to speak about?,” I put on a sullen act/

“Abe! Tu Amitabh Bachchan ke fan hai….angry young man? Is your life over and hell bent to take revenge on me? Arre!! Sorry yaar, please, please,” She pleads with a smiley, J

“Hmm! Are you playing Kaun Banega Crorepathi with me?,” I lighten up.

“You have three options, send me a nice gentlemanly scrap, accept my friendship or sing a song,” She playfully says.

“Well, in that case, I’ll choose all three of them.”

Swagata calls me a good boy. Wait! I made the shift from bad to good boy in her heart. I wonder whether she’s the incarnation of the monsoon and, as it is, no one has been able to gauge the mood of women, who can turn into Phoolan Devi (Bandit Queen) and the girl-next-door in no time.

“What are you doing?,” She asks.

“Nothing much, re. Guess I’ll pick up a book at my friends’ apartment in Parel.”

“Which one? ,” She eagerly asks.

“Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist”

“What a shame?, ” She remarks.

“Huh?”

“Dude! It’s a fab book and it seems you just woke up from the dead. The Alchemist is a treasure, a gem that you should have read, ages ago. Better late than never,” she hurls her wisdom at me.

“Hmm! yeah, yeah. I know I am speaking to a fine and cultured intellectual ahead of her times. Hong Kong must be thanking their stars for having you to spread your cup of knowledge,” I tease her.

She sends a scrap, telling, “I am feeling flattered at such words of praise.”

“Kya scene hai aaj,” I ask.

“Koi bhi scene nahin. I gotta catch up with some friends in the city at the café, then, meet Mom and Dad. I may plan a visit to my cousins’ place in Mumbai, very soon.”

I can’t contain my excitement and overjoyed that finally I’ll get to meet her.

She scraps, “Don’t be so happy.” Swagata is speaking as if she can see me jumping around.

“Hey, gotta go,” I write.

“Then go, who is stopping you,” she tries to rile me.

“Yeah! I’m going and you sit, biting your nails,” I reply back.

“Why should I sit, nursing my wounds? Okay! Go. Let me know how you find The Alchemist,” She signs off.

“Miss ya..kisses for the night.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 5

Today is Day Five. This post is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter Five

The headlines on Times of India read, ‘Mumbai boy kidnapped and murdered, Orkut links.’ As I am reading the story, a chill grips my body and I stand paralyzed for few minutes.’ I mean, some people befriended young Adnan through Orkut and according to TOI report, he was allegedly kidnapped for ransom and they killed him.

I am aghast at such inhuman act where the social networking site is being misused. I wonder, “I am chatting with someone online, nurturing friendship despite we are separated by the sea and oceans. Now, does it make us predators or victims?” Silly thoughts, I chide myself.

What does one do on a boring Sunday? Lazing around in the hostel, sipping tea and munching Bourbon biscuits! I walk to the cyber café and log on Orkut to see a scrap linking to the web page of TOI. “Oh! No! Not again. I’ve read this horrifying story, narrating the murder of young Adnan. “Have you read?”, she persistently asks.

I am getting irritated now in the manner and accusatory tone, alluding that I may be a potential criminal in her eyes. I furiously scrap, ‘TOI is delivered at my door step first thing in the m’nin…”

“Oh! I didn’t know you get TOI in your house..,” she playfully remarks.

I shot back, “What to do? Not everyone is lucky to read TOI online.”

Swagata changes the conversation and veers to the ‘Orkut’ kidnapping and murder case, “I feel so sad, yaa..The online world is so dangerous and you may not know that you are chatting and exchanging scraps with vultures.”

Excuse me! Now wait! Did I read properly? Did the person smiling behind the angelic smile just called, termed and brandished me as a vulture, hiding behind a computer screen? I mean, that’s ridiculous just because someone has been kidnapped and killed.

I am roaring like a wounded tiger and type, “You are freaking out and have no right to treat every single person you meet as a potential criminal, sicko or rapist.”

She didn’t reply back instantly and must be racking her brain what to scrap. Bundle of scraps flowing, one after the other: “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you..making a general observation on the ugly world…please try to understand. I feel we are rushing too much into friendship… let’s not exchange e-mails or phone numbers…let’s go easy and get to know each other properly.

I reply back, “Your wish..it’s not that I am wasting money in cyber for hours waiting to exchange communications with you.”

I log off and dash out of the café. What a screwy day!!!

An orkut Love Story: Chapter Four

Day Four: Chapter Four is written as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014 for the mini novella, An Orkut Love Story.

Chapter four

“Abhi abhi mile hai, dosti door ki baat hai.”

 The words woven like images coruscate on the lap top screen. I became blank for a second, fidgeting with the key pad, feeling rejected and my crush story going kaput before it started. I stare at the screen and don’t bat an eye lid. Wait! I read it ten times to be sure that I am not being rejected by a beautiful woman. I can’t help it! I am feeling bad and mushy songs are already playing in my mind. I am in no mood to become a modern Devdas, getting high on my favorite whisky brand, Imperial Blue and drowning my sorrow, listening to Tanhayee..dil ke raaste pe thokhar mein khayee… Jiye to Jiye Kaise. I am feeling lousy right now.

Upar wale ne Husn diya toh nakra dikhana zaroori hai (God has bestowed beauty on you and you must show attitude…I type. I am swirling in the air and traveling the moon. I already downed three pegs of Whisky and they are playing havoc, making my fingers and thoughts running wild. It’s not me but the drunken soul, sending scraps at length to someone I just met online.

“Aha, someone is feeling romantic now…why should I trust you? We don’t know each other,” I read the scrap.

Regaining my sense, I type back, “I am not saying anything.

She replies at the same time, “Why I am feeling that I should give you a chance?”

“I dunno..May be two innocent hearts are speaking,” I say.

“Aha, you are speaking language of the heart! WoW! It’s incredible that we typed at the same time..aap mood mein hai,” She sends a smiley.

I ponder, ‘Now, should I take it as an affirmative reply?’ She wanna give me a chance, perhaps, to prove my worth to her as her shining armor. The language of the heart is fickle and emotions are trickling down the spine. I feel like dancing.

Suddenly, it started raining heavily outside and memories of my ex-es flash back to the mind. Emotions are complex and how easy we fall in and out of love? There are certain things that are beyond our control and I feel helpless what impact an online picture did to me.

Silent mode!!! I am praying for a miracle, like the Mumbai rain, that she lands up in Mumbai right now. It’s been an hour now and the rain doesn’t seem to stop and may be, it has some power on Swagata. She must be some moody creature, a bit like the rain, splashing on the city when they feel like.

A bright, shiny cover brings my eyes to a halt and, somehow, the book lying on the table caught my attention, ‘The alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. There is something about it and feel compelled to sacrifice Orkut and Swagata for the book. I turn the pages and stumble upon page 22 when something struck me like lightning. “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Three

The post, Chapter Three, is written on Day three as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014.

Chapter 3

We woke up almost at noon inside Kushal and Tanya’s, road-facing apartment at Parel and grabbed coffee, sitting on the balcony. I am enjoying the highway view from the balcony and my eyes are fixed on the high way, watching the blue-and-yellow cabs, BEST buses and vehicles zooming, amid, the blaringly loud horns.

Kushal is excited to see the picture of Swagata on Orkut and convinces me in no time to log in, not before I add him and Tanya. Her name flashes on the lap top with a scrap. ‘WoW’, I almost jump with joy and shrieking, ‘Swagata has accepted your request…Swagata wrote on your scrap.’ I turn towards Kushal to smile sheepishly. “Hi, do we know each other?, ” she wrote.

Hmm! What to write?,’ I ask. I start typing, “Hey..thanks for accepting my friend request and almost hit the send button when Kushal stopped me. “Dude! It is so lame and boring. Don’t!”

I fidget on the key board to ask, “What do you want me to write?”

“Reply,” Tanya corrected me from behind. “She asked a question.”

Both Tushar and I are at a loss of words, our self-claimed gentlemanly charm failed us big time. The lady came to the rescue and starts typing, then deleting, lighting a cigarette in between, “F***’, I dunno why I am getting into the whole business of flirting with a woman. For sure, I am not lesbian.”

We break into splinter of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, both of you laugh but your creative battery is swirling and hanging in the air like balloons,” She chides us.

She takes a deep drag and start typing, “Nopes…we don’t know each other. But, we can get to know each other..as it is when the world was created, no one knew each other but hearts brought people together. Let’s get to know each other….what say?”

Swagata replies, “Hmm! Mr Philosopher, what do you do in life and where you are from?”

Tanya types, “Master’ student in Mumbai and you?”

Sapnon ki Rani scraps back, “A true blue Mumbai girl, living in HK and studying art. I come to Mumbai on and off.”

Over to you, Tanya hands me the lap top as she moves away from me. ‘What to scrap now?, I wonder. Should I or should I not? Finally, I type, “Swagata, niceee name…unique and appealing.”

“Thank you,” she types as fast as the scrap reaches her.

Ok! I decide to ask, no matter what it’ll take. “Hey! Drop me your phone number, na and let’s be friends, getting to know each other.

Five minutes, ten minutes…no scrap. Finally, the scrap flashes on the screen, “Abhi abhi mile hai, dosti door ki baat hai (We just met, friendship is faraway).

Chapter 2: An Orkut Love Story

This post-cum-chapter on Day Two is written as part of the  UBC July 2014. Hope you enjoy reading it:)



CHAPTER 2

I forked up almost 500 bucks for eight hours of surfing, logging on and off Orkut during the past few days. There is no sign of Swagata and I am feeling depressed, cursing my luck.

It’s getting absurd to feel for an estranged kinda crush living in another country, surrounded by the sea and whom I’ve never met and will probably never ever in my life. I can’t help feeling there is something about her and the heart is already doing somersault. Right now, I am incomplete and life is never the same without her. Thank you, Orkut.

“Better to stay off Orkut, buddy,” I try to reason. I am trying to delete the vivid and charming face of Swagata from the mind and spent the days, roaming around at Café Mondegar and SFX Bar in Colaba, drinking beer, with my almost depleted pocket money sent from home. It’s Saturday and I bond with Kushal and his girl-friend, Tanvi, wearing Red Jersey and cheering for Manchester United at SFX. As huge Man U fans, we are bonding over beer.

Tanvi asks, “So any girl-friend?”

“Nopes…actually, I like someone on Orkut,” I hesitatingly said.

“Tell more, bro,” Kushal beams with excitement.

I feel flustered and strange, sharing the unusual one sided romance with new stranger-friends I met a while ago. “Actually, we don’t know each other but saw her profile on Orkut. I feel, I am falling for her, she is from Mumbai but shifted base to Hong Kong,” I let off.

Tanya laughs, “Dude! Get a life. Seriously! How can you fall for someone you’ve never met and get upset about the whole thing? I mean, why should she add you? Are you Anil Ambani, Abhishek Bachchan or the Prince of Wales, or what? I am sorry, I am just being frank.”

Tushar intervenes, “Take light, man. If you want to, I can introduce you to the hot females in my office. Take a chill pill Chillax” He pours more beer in my glass and winks, “Try to be friend with Swagata and who knows, she might respond! But, don’t build castles in the air about someone you’ve never met. If it happens, let it be or else there are plenty of fish in the sea. We’ll go fishing”

Tania seems serious and sneers at her boy-friend. “I am shocked, to say the least. How many hot chicks you know in your office? Many fishes in the sea…this is so misogynist, dude..anyways,” she sounds offended.

Tushar’s face grows white. Tania ignores him and held me by the shoulder to ask, “Listen dude! She needs to get out of your system and you are staying with us at our Parel House for the week end. Hey cheer up! We’ll catch a glimpse of your Swagata during the Sunday Brunch on your new ‘Orkut’ life.” She hugs me.

To be continued…..

An Orkut Love Story

This post is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014 where a new post shall be written on every day through the month of July 2014.I am writing a novella with Orkut who will reach a dead end on September and I present the first chapter. Thirty One chapters, thirty one blog posts and it's my first participation.

An Orkut Love Story

Chapter 1

I am fuming and spewing cuss words as I sit in the cramped cyber café at Dadar. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed where every single thing is turning to horrible. The morning started where I had a spat with a friend, almost coming to hands with the rickshaw walla, and being stuck in the crazy Mumbai traffic. Mom just called and she was giving me lecture on how I am not serious and undisciplined. I snapped at her and cut the phone right on her nose.

On top of that, this old computer has sticky keys and the net connection is horribly slow. After trying and hitting the key board with force, the Yahoo account seems to open. One message: Your friend Samantha is on Orkut and you are invited to join thousand followers. Follow the link.

I almost shouted, ‘What the f*** is that?’ Yet, another marketing strategy to make my life hell with those tele marketing agents..what’s wrong with them?’ They are not done with me, on phone, beating the hell outta my life and now the e-mail.’ Gosh! I have a life and please live and let me live. Arggghhhhhh! Somebody please kill me.

The curious me, somehow, click on  www.orkut.com to register. Thank God! It’s no marketing or advertisers hoodwinking me to buy their products. I have one friend, Samantha. I am clueless what it’s all about. I dabbled with the whole Orkut and in nano seconds, it is becoming an addiction as I slowly move over worries of the day. Strange, how computer and net can change our lives, I wonder. I signal to the cyber staff that I am staying for another hour.

It sounds kinda cool, inviting people all over and start hitting send button to the whole world on my mail list, ‘Join me on Orkut.’ I hit the push button and send 20 invites at one go. I stumble upon a profile, ‘Born in Mumbai and working in Hong Kong..dreamer, princess, sapnon ki raani.’ I click on her profile picture and am bowled by her beauty, long tresses of hair and smile which is stuck in my memory. I am already dancing, clicking on her beautiful face, every now and then. I hit send to Swagata. That’s her name and her image keeps flashing, sending me in a tizzy. I hit send. ‘Your request has been sent to Swagata.’

I beam with joy. I took the rickshaw to Bandra Bandstand, walking past Mannat, the house of superstar Shah Rukh Khan and happily trolling some Hindi film songs. The heart is happy, imagining walking hand in hand with Swagata, sitting by the sea rocks as water is splashed on our faces. I wonder what an internet crush can do to my mind and turn a bad day into an awesome one.

I order a Capuccino coffee at Barista and lit a cigarette, surrounded by the hot and happening Bandra crowd. Somehow, I am praying that Swagata accept the friend request of her stranger lover. I shall visit the cyber café tomorrow to check my new ‘love life’ on Orkut.

Orkut: A love affair to remember

It was the days of yore, the first tryst and love affair with social networking where we discovered a life beyond the routine where being a celebrity was just a click away from the finger tips. The world of scraps, photos and having a big party online. We jettisoned to the charm of the online world, beyond e-mails and splashing our pictures all over, starting communities and commenting on friends' profiles was the real icing on the cake.

That's how my scrapbook looks.

An ongoing romance and love affair engulfing passion as we went on a journey of self discovery.

Sweet nothings and gentle stroke touching the heart.

We met and fall in love,

swaying to your charm,

old chum.

It's called Orkut, our old chum, which we may have lost touch with, who stormed its way in our life way before we knew something called Facebook or the 140-lines Twitter and the professional network, linkedin. True. Hi5 happened before that but nothing like Orkut, zooming in our lives like a dream. Writing the first scrap on someone's wall and getting an instant reply, we almost jumped with excitement.

Joined in 2006 and remained active, having a blast every single day where checking the scrap was a must, till 2009. Not a long lasting love but we made an affair totally worth it, relishing every nano second of our life that zoomed in front of our eyes. Orkut was a gentle but subtle reminder that we can indulge in balderdash with pals for hours.

Getting our first testimonial was like telling the world, 'Move over celebs coz we are one', a real cherry on cake that tasted sweet and awesome. We started groups, inviting pals and college mates to join us. It was like falling in love for the first time, our first sex escapade, bearing an uncanny ressemblence to the joy of turning 18. An era filled with adventure, spelling magic in our lives, like kids whose eyes beamed with pride and excitement. Suddenly, we had a life in the world of computers and net. We became net savvy and glamorous. 

The first tryst where we had a date with destiny and we can claim to be the whizzkids who experienced the joy of social networking in the form of Orkut. The Facebook kids came much later coz we were the first one to arrive. Remember, we are 90s kids who rocked the scene quite timelessly in 2000s as we sashayed into the world of social networking. We were all over the place as the brand ambassadors of Orkut with a bang. We rocked like crazy in this roller-coaster ride.

My Orkut home page

We called it communities not likes or groups, like in the over rated Facebook which I am part of and cannot live without, like zillions across the world. It was our gateway to opportunity and visibility. A feeling of overwhelmed joy that has been lost in translation over the years. Yeah! I never had a Gmail id at that time and was informed that I could sign in with my Yahoo! India Id and as you signed, you landed in the community. A feeling where you could thump your chest victoriously and adrenaline pumping down the spine, eagerly waiting to explore the whole Orkut business. After all, what's there in a scrap?! It didn't cost a dime or energy to jot one liners or for that matter, few words to catch up with friends, set a date or dropping a message if the other person went incommunicado on phone. It was a must and Orkut was our social media revolution. I remember someone telling me about the death of a friend on Orkut, owing to the fact that I lost my first ever smart phone. It was the days of yore in Mumbai where you would surf for one hour in Orkut for just 15 buck in SoBo (South Mumbai). Yeah, I remember sitting at the cafe inside Stadium Restaurant at Churchgate. 

Dashing straight out of the train after 40 minutes tiring bus and train ride at Santacruz, my steps took me to the Cyber Cafe to check out how the online community, We the People, were faring. An adventure that gonna end in September and in the whole hullabaloo of the World Cup, people seems to forget about our first love.
First love are always special to us where we made our first online friends, soul we've never met or will never, most probably. Orkut never made healthy flirting so easy, falling prey to gentlemanly and ladies' charm , making friends online never been so smooth. Some met on a date, fell in love on Orkut and got hitched. We are thankful for our long neglected friend, Orkut, that entered our lives like the fluttering breeze and gentle wind that stroke the heart.

Never say good bye, buddy.

The heart knows no distance,

feelings may be best kept inside us as we cherished the moments of life.
The end of an era, the golden age.

Matters of the heart shall not melt,

As you doff your heart, we make memories.

After all, first love is always special.

We were shocked and dismayed yesterday when Google announced the closing of Orkut. Perhaps, we took our neglected friend that gave character and shade to our lives, for granted. Orkut will be closed on September 30 and I intend to scribble in my digital scrap book as an ode to the golden days where we discovered social networking. Mind you! I'll transfer my profile pics, testi and scraps on the computer.

Till then, good friend, stay cool and let's enjoy the moments of love and longing. We shall meet another day till destiny brings us together.

With Love
Vishal

The new face of Sanskari mouth Condom

The condom makers are training their radar for a brand ambassador, boasting a unique appeal, for their newly minted elastic condom. thinly designed like balloons. Move over Ranbir Kapoor. Gone are the days when Deepika would have gifted his ex beau a pack of condoms to do the obvious.

Image credit: Google

See! The newly designed condom is very Sanskari in mind and soul. It's use? Fully functional to be inserted in the mouth, similar to water balloons to blow like trumpets during Shehnai and mind you, on the lines of breath alcohol test, pumping with morality. Who better than BJP good doctor and medically sane, Dr Harsh Vardhan posing as its brand ambassador? The doc fits the bill of embracing his new role as brand ambassador with his endearing and proven versatile talent of foot-in-the-mouth. You wanna have sex for fun or procreating? The new brand ambassador of the mouth condom will come on TV with an exclusive to be most viewed ad, telling, abstain from sex and put the balloon, oops, condom, in your mouth. Humana Bharat Humana sanskar, shuddh desi sanskar ab iss ka prachar kiijiye aur mann ka anand lijiye.

See, the new condom is already creating ripple of waves on the market much before it is being manufactured on a mass scale. Our new politician turned brand ambassador shot to fame claim that sex is immoral and sex education should be banned. An ejaculation given new twist and shape, read, pure mind masturbation for the purpose of wiping out crudity and vulgarity polluting our unblemished Indian culture.

AB bechare Alok Nath kya karenge? Hawan karenge hawan karenge, aur kya! Our original poster boy of sanskar has competition now from the Doc Harsh Vardhan. Wah kya kya seekhate hai doc in your medical school? Now with such a learned doc, Aids will be banned from every nook and corner of the world be it, Asia, Africa, Americas and Europe. Last heard, the doc will hold seminars in Mumbai's red light areas, kamathipura and Congress House..oops no lesson to the grand ole' party on sexual abstinence.

All condom ads, read the sizzling Moods condom will be thrown out of the window as Dr Harsh Vardhan will occupy prime advertising slot on TV. Now, who needs condom ads when the new mouth condom with adds on in the form jingle bell the doc way on our idiot box?

ABCD we are done with, SEX, the three letter word to be banned and too much gandi baat, you see, Shahid and Sonakshi..we will only have sanskari baat, as good and morally upright kids. You see, in India sex is bad and we will top the world with zero Aids. That's called control the genius way Dr Harsh Vardhan running for the Nobel prize.

And the award for the best and morally clean condom, free of stint and for promoting Indian values in the land of Kamasutra goes to Dr Harsh Vardhan. Super creative brand ambassador for mouth condom blowing our minds.

Age ole' VCR, Video cassettes we 90s kids treasured

An epoch or a lost era that cannot be emulated or recreated, unlike our movies showcased on the silver screen, but memories captured at the back of our minds. I take pride in being a 90s kid who grew up, whining my time, cuddling with the timeless love of VCR and Cassettes.

  Downloading songs, CDs, You Tube and films on mobile phone. You gotta be kidding! What's that? For sure, rocket science that was alien to my generation growing up in the dear old 90s. I remember Bombay Vikings, Woh Woh Chali dekho pyar ki Gaali playing on radio or the amazingly perfect songs of Ashiqui, Saajan, Khuda Gawah or Dil Hai Ke Manta Nahin. Our neighbor owned the luxurious but shining black VCR and they would borrow cassettes for 25 bucks at the video library, was called video club at that time.     The nice neighbors would call the 'poor child' me who couldn't afford the VCR as his nieces would watch a nice Amitabh Bachchan super duper hit Hum, yeah I remember and the shining stars Shah Rukh-Salman-Salman or Ajay Devgn standing tall on two bikes in Phool aur Kaante..kya entry hai boss! I remember watching Maine Pyar Kiya, Raaju Ban Gaya Gentleman, Love and Dil Hai Ke Manta Nahin. Our neighbor's house was converted into a home cinema, watched by five to six person as his old mother, we called Nani would prepare tea for us. Man! I was hooked! What a treasure trove they have, I was jealous and totally in awe.

   Sometimes, the desire to watch a movie and asked for permission was received in a nod and after all, who turns down or break the heart of a cute kid? You thought the hardest nut has been cracked. Time to plead with Dad to give me a special treat between 10 to 25 bucks to rent a VCR that everyone could watch together. Sometimes, getting the money and feeling rich may took months owing from Mom and Dad promise, do your homework and bring good notes in the school test. The trip to Nani's place where I stormed inside the TV room to check if there is a VCR and bang as I jumped in joy, almost stomping on someone's feet. See! I was a naughty child and pretended that I am not hungry or faking an angry mood to get someone to treat me with a video cassette of my choice. I remember being in love and drooling over my favorite hero's mass act in Shahenshah, Rishtey mein Hum Tumhare Baap lagte Hai, Naam Hai Shahenshah.

    Growing sullen during the whole day, refusing to eat anything or drink tea and crawling on the floor to being whacked and slapped for being such a naughty kid. It was worth the effort as I was sitting on the bed and watching Amitabh Bachchan performance in Shahenshah..baacha gaye bachpan bachpan Bachchan Bachchan Bachchan..should have come earlier to celebrate the Bachchan mania, the God of Cinema. My world would start and stop at the mention of the name, Amitabh Bachchan.

    The cassettes was yet another story which I grow a fetish for them, my life long friend who would entertain me as soon as I get home from school. The small shop selling cassettes between 35 to 50 bucks where the daily pocket money was not spent buying ice creams, chocolates or sweets but nicely slunk somewhere inside the room. I quenched my thirst with water at school, eagerly waiting for the bell to ring, dashing to the shop buying cassettes. I had such a huge collection of cassettes and someone bring a new addition was like cherry on the cake. The last time I bought few cassettes was way back in 2004, the time I had a walk man for company, a luxury item on the table.

   It's different ball game altogether when the money was spent buying glossy magazine to the likes of Filmfare, Stardust, Movie and Screen to read the latest juicy gossips are made of bout' favorite heroes and heroines, with complimentary, posters, some I have still conserved. It calls for another post. Move over free wallpapers on the net.

   Somebody please give me back my VCR and cassettes I spent a fortune to build the treasure trove made with so much love and flurry of passion. I wanna the decade back where holding a tiny cassette in the palm of the hand was no mean feat but sheer delight. It's like possessing gold biscuits.

   What's your VCR and cassettes story? I wanna hear from you if you are a 90s kid. Nothing beat the sheer excitement rushing down the spine.

Lovingly yours

Vishal

Birthday wishes, Aha moment and the cake

The boy's eyes beamed like a school kid on Tuesday, feeling like a prince in a  pod, born on June 24. After all, he is special as he celebrated his birthday. He stopped growing when he turned 18 and so turning one year older is not gonna make any difference to his mental age.

It was my birthday and I am still recovering from the lover shown on me, receiving wishes on Facebook, Gchat, Linkedin, blog, phone calls. I feel truly blessed. What I was gonna do struck me and was surprised by my own acts on the birthday. I've been someone who never believed in celebrating birthdays and can't remember the time when I last cut the cake...I think it was way back in 2005 when flatmates gave me a small surprised. Coaxed by Meghna and Koks, I bought a small cake and a candle at the supermarket for the sake of fun. Post the mutton dinner with mom, I get set to cut the cake. Only hitch, I misplace the candle to blow. I was dying to click a selfie with Mom but, since I am so lame at clicking the pose, I abandoned after several unsuccessful attempts. The candle blew by itself the time attempts to click selfies were thwarted. The lick in the candle, somehow, torn part. Finally, I get to cut the cake and man, I was smiling like a school kid.

The wine bottle sent across by the cousin-brother was uncorked as I tasted the creamy cake I got for myself. A tale of treating the self with dollops of happiness and fun to make the day memorable. A moment in life I cherished as I turned one year older.

An aha moment on the birthday coupled with amazingly awesome things seeming to unfurl itself towards the end of the day. As I was telling mom, I have a gut instinct that great things gonna come my way coz I can feel the breeze, acting as the harbinger of extraordinary things. I got a call in the evening and if things work out, I may join the office where I resigned, a year ago. There has been a change in ownership and it seems that the new guy is a very nice one. Finally, I can exude relief after being at home for good six months minus salary.

It couldn't have come at a better day with such wonderful wishes coming my way from superbly amazing people. Dad's birthday came today and I spare a thought to the man. He would have been 72 today. Happy wala budday, Dad.

Let's count our blessings coz one can never know when opportunity and  luck knocks on the door.

With Lotsa love

V

O' Hema, Rekha, Jaya aur Sushma everybody's favorite making a killing a la Kebab, shoes Modi-fication

Read at your own helluva risk! Now, you kissed the Queen of English, slightly peckishly peeved at the emotions flying in the thick air from our India to Buckingham Palace. Is it NaMo?! No! Not again! Our dear and fading Queen of England is gradually waning away to unwanted glory and, after all, we have no right to fucking piss the old guard after her vintage team, England, made a grand exit a la Samba in Brazil. No! Samba for the Rooney and Gerard Boys of the world. We gonna have a grand Indian affair a la Lok Sabha.

Lok Sabha! I must be kidding and gone nuts coz it's all dumped in history now.

If there is one thing that can bestir us to the extent of feeling an orgasmic pleasure, it's election, cricket, football yeah World Cup fever and, of course, NaMo NaMo. Remember we are the Mango peeps sucking the Mangola in the the heat a la Alphonso. Sexual beings, of course we are! Last heard, our traders were feeling hawkish at the prospect of banking on fans professing their love for NaMo to rake in the moolah. Bechara Junta, we thought that the prospect of seeing Katrina sucking the Aam was one thing that quenches the thirst. For once, Katrina has been confined to the background as poster boy Modi is on a killing spree for traders.

Aha! You name it, you get it! The Big Parliament Bazaar is back with a bang with numbers tossing their way like flying saucepans from one side of the house to the other, making for a staggering figure like elephants crushing the tiny, fading opposition sitting like good kids a la ants. Outside the house, women shopping for shoes are having a blast buying in all colors for a steal in the Delhi shops. Blame it on discounts scouting for customers who wanna celebrate NaMo NaMo. Our dear PM is bemused how they are making a killing on his back in the market, selling his poster image like hot Vada Pavs, Modi tee-shirts, mugs or Kohlapuri chappals to the great joy of shop-alcoholics. Only if tomatoes were cheap to run the household renaming it, 'NaMo special', we would eat to the delight of hungry stomachs. 

See that's the way to beat up the economic spirit which was dampened, from roaring to crouching. The secret to boost up double-digit growth and Namo must be secretly wishing that tube light moment was struck to cash in by marketing his merchandisers. He defeated Old Congress but couldn't with the wise crack called traders and food sellers. One man'e meat is another one's poison. Bitter pill to swallow, indeed!

Now, wait! How much will Rahul Baba be available on the market? Speak about the Economics of Politics, I know it's a quixotic of sort and not a tale of diamond dearer over water. Only if Rahul Baba was water grabbed for free, half of India would quench their thirst. Or, Chota Bheem will be watched for free on Dish TV as they decide to make apna Rahul Baba, its brand ambassador. What, no taker for this one?! I am flabbergasted coz the defanged face of Congress is bobbing his way to heaven with no one willing to sell him as their merchandiser. After all, it's all about the money!

On the menu card, a lil' birdie told me that people are swarming their way to their favorite Pubs and resto to devour Namo Fry veg dish and special Kababs to get high on politics. Beer and spirits a la Modi is making alcohol lovers steam their way to merry. Last heard, Rahul Dal Fry and Kejri da Dabba is whittling away and out of order in the plush restos and modest eat outs, alike. Blame it on Dharna menus whipped a la last minute that turned out to be a messy dish in the deck and Rahul ice-cream melting like the Dilli Di Sardi.

Now, who can beat the business ingenuity of our traders and restaurateurs making a killing on the market? Food culture in India has broken a new record with the Modi-fication of dishes in the name of innovation. Move over the Nirma Soap and the likes of Hema, Rekha, Jaya aur Sushma...sabki pasand Nirma!!!! Time to boost Nirma sales, Sab ki Pasand Modi washing powder Nirma. See, Basanti and Jaya not the devil wearing the Prada..oye Lalita are leading the pack like wolves in politics. Modi-fication didn't spare foodies, traders sprucing up their act all over the scale on the busy street. By the way, where is Shot Gun nowadays?! Khamosh!

Happy Father's Day: Remembering Dad

Father's Day celebration on Sunday, June 15 was all over the place. A small tribute to Dad who passed away on June 19, 2007, days before his birthday on June 28 and he would have been 74 this year. My Dad have been through a lot of tribulations in his life and he was only two when my grand ma, his mom died. His father married again and his half-blood mother made his life hell, depriving him of a good education and food. He had a difficult childhood, suffering from injustice but, despite everything, he was adamant that he would not let his only son to go through hell. Dad was very close to me and did everything to ensure that I am not deprived of a good education and good things in life.

During my childhood, we stayed in two rooms, including one which turned into kitchen, studying and playing cum doing the running about. My Dad was the sole breading earning family member who earned a very modest salary in those days and despite that we lived a humbled existence, he made sure that I was not deprived of the small joys of life such as regular treat to watch a Hindi movie in the theater,toys and expensive biscuits, chocolates despite he walked a tight rope money wise.

I am often amazed how Dad, despite living on humble income, managed to build the duplex house, something I wouldn't manage to do on my own cum educating me. Dad was a good human being and was emotionally attached to me, his only support, who means the world to him. We were very close and often acting in connivance with each other, not to keep mom in the loop to meet my demand coz we both knew that mom is a strict disciplinarian. I was the pampered the child and for me, he did anything and ready to take on the world.

Like in every father-son relationship, we had tussles at times which is quite normal, considering that I've been a rebel who was growing up to carve its own identity in this hugely competitive world. I know that I may have said things that I shouldn't which hurt him. But, it was done in anger and deep down, I know how much I love him and that I wouldn't achieve whatever little I did, without his constant encouragement and unflinching support. Dad was a good human being who believes in a kind world, despite the fact that he was cheated of his property by his own kin. That didn't deter him from doing good actions and be selfless. I have seen him going out of his way to help strangers and he has always been a very emotional person, something I inherited from him.

It was in Mumbai when I received a call that Dad was in coma and had to be home by his side. It was quite a story and when I came back, I was able to meet him. , he held my hand. During his last moments at home, he forcefully grabbed my hand, tears rolling before closing his eyes to me, mom and the world. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad and hope you are happy wherever you are. I am sure you looking at me from heaven and casting a protective hand like you have always done.

Love

Vishal

Myriad thought, lifeless destination and stormy weather

Kisses blown in the air as the tapestry of thoughts weave a song for togetherness, comfort and love;

Craving for the couch in the towering building sea facing to call the shots and the chauffeur-driven Bentley,

the windy breeze brings me down on earth;

Shattering the myth of day dreaming, I spangle at the glass buildings sparkling the city as I am swayed to the thick smokescreen of dust pumped by heavy vehicles;

Tiny drops of rain descend from the clouded sky, blurring my vision and images as I strive to cross the road in the maddening traffic;

Besotted by the charm of the heroine oozing sensuality on the billboards seems real and want to burst out on the road to hold my hand to heaven;

Guilty pleasures consumed at the back of the mind as the paani-puri seller whoosh past me as I crave for the delicious snack;

Yet, I am penniless as the chintzy jeans is felt by my skin as I try to find my steps in the city;

I am rendered lifeless as I am carried to a nameless destination, as I hear whispers and moans of lovers while passing the thatched hut on the huge construction site;

0! City dwellers have mercy on me! 

Embrace me in your arms as I stand on the parapet, surrounded by rocks and stormy water to feel the love and comfort.

With Love

Vishal

Let's Talk Bout' Sex, Baby

Sex, the dreaded word that hides beneath the white sheet. Let's not talk bout it and bury our heads in the dark. Just do it! Right? Sex is sin and polluting our rich culture. But, for how long we will stifle human desires and longing for sex? As a nation, we suffer from numerous complexes and sex is one of it coz its morally wrong. Isn't it ironical that we belong to the land of Kamasutra, yet, shy away from speaking about sex openly?

We are no maven in doing it the right way and, after all, we are no sex connoisseurs in this world. Aren't we the same people who will hide behind the computer to watch porn or erotica DvDs that we nicely hide under the mattress? When I saw the Ranveer Singh Durex condom ad, I felt a tinge of relief that, at least, the flood gate has been opened to speak about sex. We have been repressed for long and the matter of desire have been hidden for too long, blaming it on norms laid out to be respected as a society. It hurts even more when a woman comes in the open to discuss bout' sex and desires. Hell! She is not allowed to speak about the sex in the open. Who has given her the right to upset the balance of male dominance in a society that reeks of human oppression? Of course, we will cast aspersion on her character? After all, who gave her the right to speak about sex, orgasm are controlled by men and where the latter being on top seems to be the norm of the day?

Let's f*** and not talk about it. The organs of pleasure is a calamity if talked about and yet it's one of our favorite pet peeves and bashing under the name of morality. Expression in erotic literature and films must be banned coz we are offended yet we raise a hue-and-cry when rape happens. It suits us not to open up to our sons and daughters on the emotion called S-E-X and our text books is truly religious coz there is no mention of sex. Why should we open up to reality and let's pent up the pressure inside our bodies.

We shall not explore our bodies as human beings to speak about the A to Z of sexuality since it will provoke chasm of emotions hinging on immorality. Well! The tragedy is that we have lived with such an attitude since times immemorial where our bodies are un-chartered zone that we shall not explore. For how long, we will remain hypocrite and stay alien to our sexuality as human beings?

I don't think it benefits us as human beings not to speak about sex which fetters our growth. I feel that one of the reasons many males commit rape, which is an atrocious attack on the soul of a woman, is our lack of education on sex. Let's face it, we are sex-illiterate. Or the other way, bluntly speaking, many men use sex to show their power of superiority on women and to dominate them sexually, be it rape, assault or demanding favors in exchange for a promotion. This is the myopic view we have as human beings and it's sad.

It's a tragedy that we are so reluctant to open up about sexuality and freak out at its mere mention. Is sex such a bad thing and it should be used just for the sake of procreation?
 I am sorry, sex is not solely a matter of procreation, but it juts over pleasure enjoyed in equal measure by both partners. I feel that the Ranveer Singh condom ad, Durex couldn't have come at a better time so that we get to know ourselves better as sexual beings. We are ready to fall in love, nurture sexual fantasies but why are we so hideous when it comes to speak about sex in the open?

Mind you, people in small cities have lotsa sexual fantasies, have abundant amount of sex before reaching 18 and will fantasize about Deepika Padukone, Sherlyn Chopra, Sunny Leone, Ranbir Kapoor and Ranveer Singh, to do the obvious. Every year, India Today comes up with its sex survey and if we go by it, it's an outstanding result that makes us reflect on what we think under the white sheet. 

Let's talk about SEX baby for we are no chimers when it comes to doing it. Rather than acting as perverts, we should come out of the closet and speak unabashedly about having sex, the importance it holds in our lives as equal human beings in society. Not talking about sex is not going to help our cause but will push us to explore it in the most negative manner by being at risk and blackmailed by peddlers and pedophiles. We owe it to the new generation that we don't stifle and repress their deeds, thoughts and actions.

One can only hope that we will stop trumping the religious or political card in the name of morality and many more such ads, films should be made, healthy-cum-serious debates encouraged to educate us on our sexuality. It doesn't help anyone to hide their face or put the light off before shedding or clothes and rather shed our inhibitions as human beings. Sex is all about social equality that permeates a society and culture.
Let's face it. A society discarding its citizens as second class is not worth called as such. As a friend made a hearty jape, sex is all about doing it with anyone you want at any place of your choice. Couldn't be better than that? Totally crude and free from the shackle of hypocrisy.

Vishal.

Ab Ke Baar 'Happy wale budday girl' Sunny Leone

The campaign trailer screeched to a dead end, Election Express will soon be a thing of the past and a blurry image. Political Pundits are busy indulging in crunching numbers as we anxiously anticipate the outcome of the Lok Sabha election. PM Manmohan Singh bids farewell and we dream of the magic of NaMo NaMo bringing an end to our woes, corruption, poverty, unemployment, terror attacks and restoring world peace.

What NaMo will do and won't do? The media is already tired as we are exposed to bits and pieces of the electoral campaign after putting Varanasi on the tourism card. The trolls will be a thing of the past. See! The media overexposed us to politics like junk food, growing our belly by leaps and bounds as we bated for breath. Bas Kijiye!

In our frenzy to catch the latest quick bite, we have forgotten bout' the one that hold our pulses in her hand. How can we forget her? Shez all about entertainment, entertainment and entertainment. Remember, she soared our temperature with her cleavage, prized assets to boost media TRP. Besharam and Namak Halal, Media. For God sake! It's Sunny Leone's birthday. How can we forget our dear Sunny in the frenzy for Lok Sabha Polls! Exit Polls! BJP victory, Congress drubbing, SEM soaring to escalating high. How dare we forget bout' the face that sells papers like Pakodas and TV run time. Sniff! No one remembers Sunny Leone now! Tauba Tauba!

Is the media and NaMo gonna tells us that today, Sunny's birthday will lead to her downfall coz of the Lok Sabha poll? Don't tell me NaMo will appoint Sunny Leone as Gujarat Chief Minister to boost tourism? Gujarat mein hum dum kyon ki banegi CM Sunny Leone.

Yeh Duniya Pital Di! Pital Di! Our girl turns 33 today and yet we try to obliterate the face of entertainment. Nobody thinking about our angel Sunny. Is it coz her stock is on the downfall since Ragini MMS? Stupid me! I thought media will celebrate her birthday to boost TRP. Are! Sharam Karo! Now, you don't need our Sunny now coz of Namo, doing an item number? Don't worry, Sunny. NaMo can never compete with you even if he removes his trendy Kurta and dance to Pital Di or Laila in his white Banyan stitched in Gujarat. Sunny Leone! Nobody can beat your item numbers and trust me, when the Lok Sabha and NaMo frenzy die, our media and netas hungry for lust will feed you with hot Dhokla made in Gujarat!

Who can dare forget you, Sunny? After all, MTV Splitsvilla is here and you will up the heat quotient and send the temperature soaring? Whoz NaMo? Certainly, NaMo or RaGa falls nowhere in your league. Penthouse girl!! They forgot you and so wanted to send you flowers, choco, cards and love but can't afford you like the uber charming princes of the super richie rich estate. I am happy you tweeted, flattered by all B-day Love, trending, crazy..xoxo.

Now, what I call beating NaMo's 56 inches chest, Lok Sabha and media at their own girl. See! Girl you are winner and not whiner, like our politicians. Anybody, beat that, the Sunny way. Who can dare to beat the Pent House gal? Yet, they forget you and worry not, they'll come back to you. Hows bout the idea of accepting the offer for Lok Sabha Speaker?! Crazy idea! See! I'm your shubbh chintak, at least, I can never forget your budday, girl.

Happy budday, Sunny Leone. Who cares about NaMo or RaGa. Ab ke Baar Sunny Leone.

Mere Paas Maa Hai

No power on earth can beat, Nirupa Roy, as the epic and classic Maa in movies, Mera Paas Maa Hai, not even, Mere Karan Arjun, aayega on Mother's Day. Maa Diwas on May 11, gave me a complex. The temptation was too much to give in it. See! I deserve a pat on the back for not uploading a picture of Me and Maa together! The whole internet razzia uploaded pics with Maa and super duper 100 crores snaps were all over the place, on Facebook, yelling, 'Mere Paas Maa Hai.'

Sultified! I was! C'mon! At least, I should have dig deep into the albums and retrieve the pics of Me and Maa together for the claim to fame and spruce up my stock as a loyal beta. I wished Maa on midnight, Happy Mother's Day' as the house Queen nodded with Okay. I feel stupid. After all, I have only printed images of us together, happy family putting a smile.

I choose to ride the less traveled road. I am a bored, no! I take resolution on Maa Diwas and to cut a long story short, I prefer to give Maa the respect throughout the year and no just on Maa Diwas. It's not that I claim that I don't shout on the roof top telling Maa, how much I love you. Like all Mango social media wanna be maverick, I posted Happy Mother's Day on Facebook and Tweeted in 140 words.

Our Moms are not Nirupa Roy but they deserve the respect, at least. Telling them, how much they sacrificed their lives for us, carried minnows us in their womb for nine months and whipped the naughty us so that we can shower love and affection on them for making us responsible, would be an aberration, right! I don't wanna get an earful, 'This is how you paying back by reducing to nought our love.' Come on, Moms hate to hear the sob stories of sons coz its in their nature to love us the way we are and no matter how much we grow, we shall remain their babies.

Cool Moms, super Moms and angry Mom! Let's be cool and give them the respect they deserve. I know, we cannot beat them in the love department and it's not that what they do is always right, let's be tolerant-cum-accepting, let our Moms be the people they always wanted to be. For long, they stuck to rules in society's definition of how Moms should be. Just let them be!

Hey, did you ask Mom's permissions before uploading the pic on Facebook? No! Nah! Let them be who they are for their own sake and for the act of loving them. No, we don't need to touch their feet to show them love but respect, baby. Who is saying that we shouldn't tell the world how much we love Mom and make them smile on Maa Diwas? Of course, we should but let's treat them with respect even if we feel they are a bit unreasonable. See! Mom's heart are like that only and they know na reason, they gotta tell us not to be bad boys and girls.

Mother India! Bharat Mata! Dharti Maa! They are the Moms of Moms, u see! Social media, netas and patriots that we are, invoke them like anything during this Lok Sabha Polls. It's like upping the emotional quotient to grab more votes by tickling our patriotic, oops, emotional self..Maa in the times of politics and religion. What they don't do to make us feel small if we don't comply with their definition of politicking. Maa! Tujhe Salaam! Desh ke naam Pe! They shall take the name of Dharti Maa to split us in caste, race and regions to culminate their brand politics.
They use the name of Maa to tell us ki Ab ki Baar, he has come and in the name of Maa, we shall vote for him and usher for change...after all! Maa Ganga ne bulaya! Our bad days are over, he will make us crorepati, he is the new Mr Apple, he will bring Steve Jobs back from heaven, the 'aam aadmi' bad days are over, diamonds will be cheaper than water. In the name of Maa, he is the messiah that will save us and is equipped with gauntlet to save us from bad guys, inflation, terrorism, global melt down.

India deserves better! Bharat Mata deserves better and our Moms deserve better. Let's not abuse her and let not dilute our love for her.

Happy Mother's Day to mother's of the world.

Jai Hind

With Love to Maa

V

Letter to Surya: WoW-feeling hot-hot-hot

Dear Mr Surya

Some call you Devta (God),

for the rest you are the sun that shines and, at times, become unbearable;

It's the election season as we are made to stay in the queue to vote as our friends are lamenting on your power;

Our friends, the journalists, who bring us the crisp news and tread where few dare to face your brunt;

You become unbearable for all of us and this season you are too hot to handle;

Did I say Hot?

Surya you are so hot that the female hotties in Mumbai run away from you to sit cold colas and coffees in Phoren and cold countries;

IIFA is just a pretext for them to sweat it out on stage to avert your gaze coz you get sadistic pleasure in burning their skins;

We, the commoners, can't bear your fury as we hunt for cold and icy water filled in bottles;

Please have some mercy on us this season;

We know that no one can match your power on earth as you zoom on us with utmost ease and we cannot hide from you;

Where shall we escape?

Journos that we are have to bear your anger as we cover the Lok Sabha election, running from pillar to post, as we secret wish for mercy in such dangerous times;

We celebrated the World Press Freedom yesterday as an ode to daring journalist,

but can the gentle you shield us from the angry you,

O' Surya!

We need freedom from you,

though, in another time, we will long for your cover

coz we know the vitamin that we so abhor comes from you,

you pump us with energy in form of Sun;

How complex our relations are!

Be gentle for a while;

The poem is written as part of Write Over the Weekend theme for this week:

The heat this summer is unbearable. Here’s your chance to write a witty letter to the Sun God/Goddess convincing him/her to go a little easy on us.

It is also linked to World Press Freedom celebrated on May 3 for journalist across the globe.

Include this code:

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Every weekend, we give out a creative writing prompt to rekindle the love of writing in all you creative writers.

Follow link on: http://blog.blogadda.com/2014/05/02/wow-feeling-hot-hot-hot-creative-writing-prompt-weekend-indian-bloggers

WoW Headlines:When Pappu grabbed eyeballs, promising toilets in every houses

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. The prompt for this week is WoW-Headlines where you are expected to invent a hot and sensational and write a story about it. Please, check the link http://blog.blogadda.com/2014/04/25/wow-headlines-creative-writing-weekend-indian-bloggers.

When Pappu grabbed eyeballs, promising toilets in every houses

Five-year-old Pappu was befuddled as the mammoth crowd swayed their hips in front of him as he sat on the hot seat and garlands thrust on him and the local Pandit applied a long, red Tilak on his forehead. Pappu slouched on his crown, the nicely decorated  white coated Western Toilet,adorned with garland, red silk, and flowers at the Ghat. The village, Kashi Ghat, which is home to spirituality and religiosity has been shot to fame which saw tourists swarming to the lake seeking the blessing of the new God Pappu.

The TV crew been doing a repeat of Peepli Live since the Lok Sabha elections was announced and the small town which was just another place in India is now trending all over the globe. The Prime Ministerial candidate, Pheku Singh, which many call the future Prime Minister of India, drew large crowd and swathes of TV channels running after him as they set their home in the nearby village. The outsider, Dharna Rao, threatened to defeat Pheku Singh and promise to turn his Tandoori Nights into nightmare. After all, Khashi Ghat is a spiritual city where the Gods shower miracles on devotees encumbered with maladies, children's education, marriage of their young children, praying for babies to bless the womb and money hassle.

It was the nomination day as the city was caught in a stew where the crowd was seen chanting, 'Har Har Pheku' and Dharna karenge and the supporters clashed with each other, battling it out for their favorite candidates to rule the town. The TV channels stomped their way to get the latest breaking news back to Delhi. What followed was a twist in the tale that only factory mill called 'Bollywood' was capable of achieving and it was a feat that even Amir Khan, the man behind the original Peepli Live, could never dare of pulling.

As the TV crew wheezed their way to capture Pheku Singh and Dharna Rao rally on nomination day, one journalist heard a shriek from one of the dim lit houses in the neighborhood. The short haired hot female journo, from a reputed TV channel, scampered her way towards the cooped dwelling as her sixth sense got the better of her. She saw an old woman shouting, Save my son! Save my son. He fell in the latrine. The female journalist signaled her camera person to follow her as she bends her head to peep in the well and saw a young boy, shaking with fear and crying  inside. 

The phlegmatic journalist appear on air to made it the scoop of the day for Capital TV as she spoke with a whiff of confidence: "What a shame India! On a Day, where Pheku Singh and Dharna Rao are battling out for the most coveted job in the country, a child has slipped in the well and nobody cares..Yes! They care only about political meetings and the village is not even equipped with toilets for decent living. What a political charade!"

The news reached all TV channels stationed in the village and gradually, the whole crowd swarmed to the latrine to catch a glimpse of a crying Pappu. The shutter bugs focused on the close-up where Pappu could be seen crying and appearing as a waif child to make for breaking news. 

To rub salt on the wounds of the Pheku and Dharna, a well known scruffy looking TV journalist, holding the camera on top of his head, zoomed on Pappu. He wailed: A child falls inside the well and it's been three days, the poor child in stuck inside and deprived of food. Why is there no toilet in the village and Pappu is still stuck inside?  India Wants to Know!" 

The Government dispatched the army and police who managed to pull off the frightened Pappu out of the latrine with the cameras and journalists not losing sight of its prime duty, stalking the thin looking child. Pappu became the hero in the small town as Pheku Singh and Dharna Rao scampered their way to meet the child and give monetary reward to the family leaving TV channels camping outside their dim-lit house to interview destiny's child Pappu. The child was asked how he was feeling and whether he realized that he hogged the limelight away from the election and he replied, "We need toilets in the village." The news anchor asked the child what he would do if he was elected the Chief Minister and he confidently replied, "I will give toilets to everyone so that no child falls in the pit."

Pappu became a hero in the village and the folks decided that the small child can bring fortune to Kashi Ghat by standing as candidate. Pappu was paraded on horse in the village as he folded his hands to the village folks throughout fifteen days, visiting people houses to sing the old refrain, "I will give every person in Tulsi Ghat a toilet. Vote for Pappu."

When the election results was announced, Pappu surprised everyone by winning the election by a huge margin as Pheku Singh and Dharna Rao trailed. Pheku Singh cursed his own destiny as his hard work has been wrecked by the child's fall in the latrine and Dharna Rao was driven out of the village. Today, an English toilet has been brought to the village where Pappu insists on sitting to enjoy his election victory which the people believe is very symbolic since all houses will now shine with a toilet.

The Child in Me and the chat bubble

Dear Child,

Innocent face, shy, inquisitive eyes and naughty streak whose eye balls follows every moving object in your bubble called fantasy world . I am aware, I am speaking to you, tongue sucker for chocolates and lolly pop whose mouth waters for Gulab Jamun in the Mithai Shop.

Oh! tree huger, you keep hopping excitedly as you shriek at the sight of moving trains chugging at the jam-packed stations. You silly heart! An extension of my own and mirror image of yours truly! Walking bare chested  in the house and wearing the under wear in the house as you ape the likes of this new hero Salman Khan who drops his shirt, showing biceps at the drop of a hat. You climb the stool in the kitchen to open the cupboard despite they deemed that it is far beyond your reach. You creep on the floor, dabbling with the fridge plug. You remove the plug and the fridge stops working yet you traipse away innocently as mom slaps you on your bum. Favorite time pass? Opening tap water, breaking the TV remote and hiding the car keys under the mattress as you slouch on the sofa pretending nothing terrible happened and behave like a waifish in the house. You've been such a terrible creature and a terror in the house.

Yeah! I am talking to my own self, Seven year old and still counting. You abhor school coz you keep getting punished with stick and bending on your knees. How nicely you sneak away from the house to play cricket and football with the mischievous lot in the Galli as Mom and Dad lose their sleep, fearing you've lost the way or kidnapped for the moolah. You think you are the next Ronaldo or Sachin in town that cricket or football cannot exist without your tiny fingers and toes.

The parents gape with breath, wondering how a minnow looking fellow like you can bring the house down in no time, you tear the wallpapers in the room thinking its candy wrap, making the gas stove dysfunctional and de-programming the TV. You roil the house as if you are the descendants of Star Wars as you skulk around to climb the wall or Banyan tree. Are you Superman or Lord Hanuman?! Quixotic soul!! You deny your crime to the world and behave and act in a whipper-snapperish manner, over smart kinda dude, oblivious of your age.

You have a nice way of cajoling Dad as you make innocent faces, faking tears for the chocolate ice cream and biscuits. Dad is vulnerable to your antics as you nicely scamper out of the home with your naked and tiny feet, holding his hand and offering to take his bag. You found your victim, small monster and in no time, you see to it that your demands are met..mithai, candies and choco. Your claim to goodies: Innocent smile and blush. You know that your smile is not for free and the man who brought you to earth has to pay for it. Who do you think your are? Brand ambassador of Colgate smile.

Remember praying for Grade A results in school? Bhagwan! You implored the Gods to wreck a miracle to put A's all over the place so that I can play pranks at home during holiday and sneak out of the house to climb trees, dash the cricket ball in the neighbors house. You recited and wrote 108 times the names of Swami Satynanarayanan to get the desired A's.

The introspective mind and stupid brain of yours was keen to know where you came from and whether the cute babies born in the family are showered from the sky like rains. You were told that your parents found you in plane when they travel and was tendered as a gift by beautiful air hostess. The child in you waggled with excitement and prod your parents to board the plane to ask for a cute brother or sister for company, 'Let's go Momma and Pop', as they look at each other, 'Palm Face'

Yeah! Right! The child in me conversing with the real self and now, can we exchange places, please?! How I wish to be that child again!!!

Lovee

Bucket List 10 outta 10

It's the time where our bucket list gets lost in translation as our priorities-cum-target-cum-New year resolution (read fresh) is hitting a level of fatigue and tiredness due to growing frustration. As days and months moves fast like the local trains, we are brought to the harsh reality of life where saving a dim is like horrible sex romp and a herculean task at hand. Minor hiccups, disappointment and buried in the dumps, I feel like Uday Chopra minus biceps in Dhoom:3, a blink-and-eye non-existence special appearance in the calendar of life, bearing an uncanny ressemblence to species in danger of disappearance.

Oh! Bucket List! Bucket List! How you eluding me like that? Just January 1, I was all charged with dreams to make it reality and now,everything is disappearing out of thin air. Wait! My tribe told me that there is always light at the end of the tunnel and let me try the trick to make my very own Bucket List alive and swing in the air. Who is this idiot who invented the term Bucket List to fool me? Let me fool myself to make the list an ongoing romantic affair and not just a fling or one night stand.

1. Learn to Drive

Unkempt promises! Man in his 30s don't even know how to drive a car. Put me in the driving seat and I shall shake in fear as if some bomb has been thrust on me. Well it's me! It's a shame that I don't know how to drive a car. Kya Car-nama hai Boss! I shall learn to drive this year and it's quite a priority or so 'driving' made its way on the bucket list. Ok! I shall not be hard on myself and make it a priority to learn driving till next year at least.

2. Swimming

How to Swim against the tide?. It shall be the title of the imaginary movie or novel, bearing my foot print, that keep playing at the back of my mind. That shame No. 2, oops! Bucket List cannot be complete without aspiring to get into the freezing cold water and learn to swim my way to heaven. Now, empty promise: If I don't learn to swim in a year, I am planning to throw myself in the water, either I drown or find my way back to the shore.

3. Learn Spanish

It's a new fetish that's finding its way on the Bucket List. It's been a year that I've been toying with the idea of learning Spanish, a new and alien language for me. For all naysayers, nopes! I haven't met a hot and super sexy Spanish chick..ab mere phuti hui Kismet mein Kahan..Mera Bad Luck hi Kharab. The moment I learn and speak Spanish fluently, I gonna take a ride to Spain and play Holi a la Tomatino.

4. Mumbai

Aha! My favorite city! City bang bang! Can the Bucket List be made without the obsession to be back in Maximum City? It's Plan A, I tell you. I am not working and still, I am dying to be back in Mumbai to be a Mumbaikar forever. The trick lies in landing the new job fast, start saving and be back to Mumbai. Miracle! Miracle! Dreams! Dream! How I am hoping for the miracle to strike like lightning on my head? Peeps! Pray for me and break a coconut so that I land the job and fly to Mumbai fast.

5. Write the novel

I must bag an award for building castles in the air and I've been boring people with, 'I am writing a novel and will reach completion this year.' It's been two years now and I need a good whip on the butt to get going. I need discipline man and the Bucket List must be tired to see the old, boring song finding its way, 'The man writing the novel.' Buahhh! Lemme bury the frustration. See! I'm laughing at the self.

6. Travel the Globe

I am dying to travel the Globe, visiting Paris, London, New York and, of course, Brazil. Sad! I can't even aspire to be a wannabe Globe-trotter as my Brazil World Cup plans made since 2011 has gone to the hound. It's hounding me. How can I miss the Brazil World Cup? Sniff! Sniff! Oh! Dubai is also on the plate and how can I forget the Sheikhland, yet, sometimes back, I was making plans to relocate and have the Arabs as my neighbors, this year. See, this is Plan B. Now, I am biting my nails. Again, I forget our India! I love my India!!! See, Modi has made Varanasi a hot proposition and dying to go there and live an ascetic life for some time, and, of course, sipping Vodka on the peak of the mountains at Dharamshala.

7. Acting in a movie

Nopes! I have not reached the stage of delusion, though, it's another matter-of-factly that I am not faraway from that. I wanna act in a Hindi movie, even the much self-hated TV serials will do, like they say, Chalega! See! I love building castles in the air and even, my Bucket List is getting a kinda complex. Hey! Btw, Amitabh Bachchan became an actor in his 30s and Boman Irani became one post 40s. Okay! Chill! I know that I am neither Big B nor Boman Irani but it doesn't cost a rupee to dream big na, isn't it?! I wouldn't mind being an extra in a film and hope it should make you happy that I haven't lost my mind till now.

8. Cut smoking

If Bucket List could speak, it will laugh but chill at the same time. I know, it's not a Bucket List kinda stuff at the fag's end but, but, I've been able to cut smoking, quite drastically this year. Not, that I was determined to clean the lungs but bcoz I am facing a money crunch and. at times, don't have the money to buy my cigarettes. But, all said and done, I've cut smoking na, so, Bucket List stop laughing at me and give me a pat on the back.

9. Start the website

Yeah! New idea has just struck. Okay! Kidding! Two of my friends have proposed that I should start a SEO, something which I love doing, and earn through Google adsense. There are some web hosting that are cheaply available and even if I recover one third of the initial money, half the battle is won. Now, Bucket List must be smiling for this rather reasonable achievable target this year. Yeah! It's do-able. Here beating my Trumpet a bit, I am rather good at writing and confident that I can drive Google traffic through content that I create. I think, I can do it. Once, I get a job, I'll take a shot at it.

10. Meet Sachin and Big B

Bucket List must be honing its skills at laughing therapy now. Yes!! I wanna meet and have coffee with Sachin Tendulkar and Amitabh Bachchan? Why just them and I wanna go on a coffee date with Deepika, Parineeta, Alia, Nargis Fakhri, In the latter's case, I gotta put up with her fake accent but all is fair in love and lust. Haha! Uff!! I am finally done and Bucket List can breathe easy.

Don't take me so seriously!! I think, I was on drugs while putting up this post on Bucket List and dunno what I wrote. Was I in the coma? Before you fume, let me run away from here.

Yippie!

Vishal

NaMo! Singh is King and Pakistan Tourism

Listen! Listen! We Proud Indians and, of course, Modi Bhakts have competition now. Is it kya? Don't you know the face of Gujarat has now become a Global Phenomenon in Asia and is the new brand ambassador of Pakistan Tourism. I tell you! Ek hi jhakte mein Narendra Modi has found a solution to Hindustan Ki Abadi (Growing Population) problem..shift to Pakistan. To the cynics and critics of Namo!! Namo!!, see the Global appeal of Narendra Bhai who will tell you to shut the fuck and move to Pakistan.

Heard the Pakistani Government is dancing and swinging their way to Ooh! Lah! Lah! and chanting Har Har Modi!!! Khushwant Singh must be fuming in his grave for the political plagiarism of 'Train to Pakistan' steered by NaMo's self-claimed spin doctor and new age Ad Guru..oops!! Lok Sabha Ad Guru Giriraj Singh for the new campaign for Pakistan Tourism. Har Har Modi!! See, Singh is King!

Move over the sacred and spiritual land of Varanasi as Pakistan has just sweep off tourism potential under the nose of that part of Uttar Pradesh. What must Mia Musharaf be thinking, I wonder? He must be cursing his stars and fate for being on the wrong side and blaming Giriraj Singh for playing spoil sport. Poor Musharaf-ji, now, he cannot even take credit for India-Pakistan Bhai Bhai chara ya potential and stammering Tourism Growth from India.

Woah! Whatta Punch line, Adharnir Giriraj Singh: "those who oppose Modi should go to Pakistan as there will be no place for them in India." Now, this model of Pakistan Tourism cleverly crafted in India during the Lok Sabha battle bear the imprint of a faded leader Giriraj Singh whom nobody knows and whose shot to fame is boosting Pakistan Tourism. Now, who says only Bimbos can resort to tricks to gain popularity by removing their clothes or professing their love for NaMo? Move over, Malika Sherawat, Meghna Patel or Tanisha Singh , the new bombshell in town is Shri Giriraj Singh.

Now, I was planning to relocate to India but it looks that the new India steered by NaMo has no place for secular beings like me and time to book my ticket to Pakistan. Ah! Wait! Am I late kya? Now, it getting me worried with the new ad for Pakistan Tourism where millions of my country men and women, read, Modi Haters, have already booked to resettle in Pakistan. Where does that leave me? Will the Pakistan Government turn me down owing to advance Booking and Housefull? Poor me! I will be deprived of the joy of enjoying Pakistan Tourism, courtesy NaMo and Giriraj Singh. Wait! I have an idea. What about starting a travel agency for fellow Indians dying for Pakistan Tourism or settling in Pakistan and having Giriraj Singh as the poster boy or playing loud music, Har Har Namo and let's go to Pakistan by Train, air or ship? I am telling you! I'll make a killing and rake the moolah to be an overnight rich Shehzaade.

If that was not enough to pump up the Lok Sabha Battle..again my bad!!! Pravin Togadia of VHP is rubbing Himalayan Salt the wrong way to boost Pakistan the wrong way. Now, who says Pakistan is a failed and Rogue state?! Not the likes of BJP, Namo, Giriraj Singh or Praveen Togadia.  Ceertainly, not Togadia, Sir? Don't believe me? Have a look:

As per media reports, Vishwa Hindu Parishad president Pravin Togadia delivered an anti-Muslim speech in Bhavnagar, Gujarat.

Protesting outside the house of a Muslim businessman, Togadia allegedly gave the occupant 48 hours to vacate his house, failing which he asked his followers to take forcible possession of his property and fight a legal battle later which will go on for years.

The report claimed that the VHP leader also threatened Muslims with violence and asked his followers to “go with stones, tyres and tomatoes” and that there was nothing to fear. "I have done it in the past and Muslims have lost both property and money," he had said."

Wah! Wah Kya baat, Togadia Sir!!!! NaMo must be wondering whether he needs foes with loyal friends like Singh and Togadia. The gentlemen are hell bent to make NaMo the new face of Pakistan Tourism and the latter must be fuming for the extra efforts to take Gujarat out of the tourism card. Truly, a conspiracy against Gujarat Tourism, NaMo must be fuming! Wonder what Nawaz Sharif must be thinking at the change of heart of Singh and Togadia to make Brand Pakistan the new face of Tourism and Dream land. Folks! Move over US of A, UK, Dubai or Europe, Pakistan is the new face of tourism and minting money. Be rich and move to Pakistan, courtesy Giriraj Singh and Pravin Togadia. Now, Pakistani are already chanting, Ab Ki Baar Modi Sarkar, enough to give  Nawaz Sharif a complex.

Politically Provocative

V

PS: Image downloaded at Google India from http://pbs.twimg.com/media/BlteD9xCUAAyKDO.jpg:medium and, hence, I claim no credit for the cartoon. The image belongs to the rightful owner (Irregular by Manjul) at the above link.