Incredible India truly!! Give me name of any country run by a foreigner...after the country ends 500 years of foreign oppression...mere 58 yrs later...it is still run by one!
I have nothing against feminism or bra burning woman power...nor do i advocate chauvinism of men with balls or without it...i don't want to use my limited reserve of grey matter in these activities...you must be thinking...the heading says something...the content looks like a vomit of bile...i can understand that..coz i don't want to beat around the bush if you still haven't got the matter!!
The gist of the matter is...we are now officially a country run by an Alpha bitch who is supported by two bitches, whose one leg is in the grave and another on the edge of the Presidential chair and not to forget the Vice Presidential chair. And the most amazing thing about the soon to be called First Lady of India...advocates pallu...saying it saved women of Rajasthan getting raped during the Mogul era...tch..tch...and it's a symbol of virtue and a woman's place in the society...am i turning into a moron? I have no clue what she said after that..coz i was figuring the pallu which was first symbolised with female oppression suddenly taking a new turn...
Well... and 3 lakh votes went to the pallu wielding woman, who is a mother, has got in-laws and not to forget maika too!! Last heard they were bursting crackers and celebrating...i guess the woman whose one leg is in the grave might get more dowry...now don't ask how!!
Why am i making a mountain out of a mole hill...the reason is pretty obvious...that lady could've requested APJ to continue his tenure even when the Italian bitch asked her to stand against him...coz anyways the UPA is proving itself time and again to be an impotent opponent in front of the highly libidinous lady...
We are now officially a nation without balls...and not to forget a new phenomenon of getting raped by bitches!!
Truly incredible!!!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Greyscale lives
Noises from the din of daily activites suddenly ceases when it hears a whisper. A whisper which has a resonating echo that it shatters the ear drums, a muted sound of violence which breaks out of its shackles of reason and emotion. An echo which makes lasting impact of a lifetime, an affair gone awry, a reason which is not a reason anymore, a pursuit which has been given up for a lost reason, nights of dreamless dream woken up with a memory of a nameless face.
A transmogrification bursting out of its mortified reality. An unreal world of shreiking walls and wails of the nightly skies, skies ripped of its stars and the moon. Colors lost in the dreams of insomniac nights of howling winds and whispers of the dead birds. Warm blood rushes through the veins frozen in time, thawing away the icicles of cells stuck to the walls of shame and ego. Inflated world of obese desires, ugly bodies,wads of money soaked in blood of dead dreams.
Life rolls on a boulevard of unspoken love, dead dreams, breath infested with the smell of sulphur, skin covered with scurf of placenta you were born with, a road cobbled with stones of misery and lost voices of desires killed prematurely. Skies losing allure of blue and turning grey with the filth of our shameless trivial pursuits.
Since when did we let all these walk all over us. We are reduced to a body stripped naked running on crowded streets of faceless people walking barefoot over dead bodies of themselves. A scream which refuses to escape from the throat choked with vomit of sorrow. A muffled cry waiting to explode under the thin veil of uneasy laughter. Where friendship is just for a name and marriage to cover the shame of dying alone.
Escape is just a wish away, a wish buried without any hope of finding it!
A transmogrification bursting out of its mortified reality. An unreal world of shreiking walls and wails of the nightly skies, skies ripped of its stars and the moon. Colors lost in the dreams of insomniac nights of howling winds and whispers of the dead birds. Warm blood rushes through the veins frozen in time, thawing away the icicles of cells stuck to the walls of shame and ego. Inflated world of obese desires, ugly bodies,wads of money soaked in blood of dead dreams.
Life rolls on a boulevard of unspoken love, dead dreams, breath infested with the smell of sulphur, skin covered with scurf of placenta you were born with, a road cobbled with stones of misery and lost voices of desires killed prematurely. Skies losing allure of blue and turning grey with the filth of our shameless trivial pursuits.
Since when did we let all these walk all over us. We are reduced to a body stripped naked running on crowded streets of faceless people walking barefoot over dead bodies of themselves. A scream which refuses to escape from the throat choked with vomit of sorrow. A muffled cry waiting to explode under the thin veil of uneasy laughter. Where friendship is just for a name and marriage to cover the shame of dying alone.
Escape is just a wish away, a wish buried without any hope of finding it!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Comfortably dumb
A typical day for me begins with waking up listening to my mother's sonic boom, or in my language it's called 'suprabhatam' or the morning raaga. Wish it sounded more like Pink floyd's see you on the dark side of the moon, for ruining my sleep at 9 AM early in the morning. Reason , i still havn't found anybody who's willing to employ me for the skill which is still in it's nascent stage, or rather, it's still having it's umbilical chord attached to my other skill.
Let's not get into pre-natal talk here, when i am already into my post natal stage ooops!! that would be my writing skills (that's the only thing i am good at) with which i plan to make some money, now i have no idea how am i going to do that....meanwhile i am getting comfortable sitting at home and becoming immune to the subtle and sometimes obvious hints that my folks give me to get my ass up and start earning. It's not that i don't want to work, but i am still figuring out what exactly i want to do....i know it actually sounds like "To be or not to be". Infact it's more like "What to be and What not to be".
Usually morning raaga follows with Follow the leader, where will the reader go then? that's the tagline of worlds largest circulating newspaper brand. The paper is becoming a cult like what Scientology is for Tom Cruise. Page3 has been torn off and made into a movie, wonder what bhelpuri wala's are using these days. Maybe the education times to pack their bhel to the uneducated labourer. Poor guy, had it not been for Page3, his bhel wouldn't have a dose of rising hemlines and dipping cleaveages, and Bobby darling ofcourse. After spending a good one hour in numbing my eyes and brain with printed words written by others, i try to pump up blood into the numb areas, filled with images of Queenie Dhody..is that a name...i guess a horse would be better off with name like Queenie Ghoda. And news about China's moon mission leading upto Tibet. Abhishek's birthday gift and his fiancee are on front pages, while people like Irom sharmila sink into pages which even the Bhelpuri wala doesn't want to use.
A heavy dosage of news on TV about some kid or the other inside a well and people praying for him, coupled with news about making a movie Tax Free as a birthday gift to some hair band welding moron who prides himself with former miss world in one hand and his dad's watch in another. Selling Fridges and getting cards on behalf of his father, where have all mamma's boys gone! Though some saving graces can be found in form of a cow selling chewing gum to a kid fighting mud pit to please his little sister. Thank god for little mercy that shone upon thy idiot box.
After numbing myself with the aforesaid activites, i check orkut , man...it actually changed my life. First thing i notice is which unknown person has visited my profile, it's actually a thrill to know that you can be noticed in the big big world of cyberspace. Which usually follows with me visiting their profile, and checking them out for myraid reasons. And then i finally check my scraps, which is aptly named scraps because they are mostly out there for everyone else to see.
All these things happen so mechanically that, sometimes i have to pinch myself if i live by printed word, or moving images or virtual sanity. These are the three things which consume major part of the day apart from afternoon raaga and evening raaga and some of my own insane thoughts about the world and life in general. I know i am boring, but i guess when life is exposed to vagaries like this, one becomes comfortably dumb.
Let's not get into pre-natal talk here, when i am already into my post natal stage ooops!! that would be my writing skills (that's the only thing i am good at) with which i plan to make some money, now i have no idea how am i going to do that....meanwhile i am getting comfortable sitting at home and becoming immune to the subtle and sometimes obvious hints that my folks give me to get my ass up and start earning. It's not that i don't want to work, but i am still figuring out what exactly i want to do....i know it actually sounds like "To be or not to be". Infact it's more like "What to be and What not to be".
Usually morning raaga follows with Follow the leader, where will the reader go then? that's the tagline of worlds largest circulating newspaper brand. The paper is becoming a cult like what Scientology is for Tom Cruise. Page3 has been torn off and made into a movie, wonder what bhelpuri wala's are using these days. Maybe the education times to pack their bhel to the uneducated labourer. Poor guy, had it not been for Page3, his bhel wouldn't have a dose of rising hemlines and dipping cleaveages, and Bobby darling ofcourse. After spending a good one hour in numbing my eyes and brain with printed words written by others, i try to pump up blood into the numb areas, filled with images of Queenie Dhody..is that a name...i guess a horse would be better off with name like Queenie Ghoda. And news about China's moon mission leading upto Tibet. Abhishek's birthday gift and his fiancee are on front pages, while people like Irom sharmila sink into pages which even the Bhelpuri wala doesn't want to use.
A heavy dosage of news on TV about some kid or the other inside a well and people praying for him, coupled with news about making a movie Tax Free as a birthday gift to some hair band welding moron who prides himself with former miss world in one hand and his dad's watch in another. Selling Fridges and getting cards on behalf of his father, where have all mamma's boys gone! Though some saving graces can be found in form of a cow selling chewing gum to a kid fighting mud pit to please his little sister. Thank god for little mercy that shone upon thy idiot box.
After numbing myself with the aforesaid activites, i check orkut , man...it actually changed my life. First thing i notice is which unknown person has visited my profile, it's actually a thrill to know that you can be noticed in the big big world of cyberspace. Which usually follows with me visiting their profile, and checking them out for myraid reasons. And then i finally check my scraps, which is aptly named scraps because they are mostly out there for everyone else to see.
All these things happen so mechanically that, sometimes i have to pinch myself if i live by printed word, or moving images or virtual sanity. These are the three things which consume major part of the day apart from afternoon raaga and evening raaga and some of my own insane thoughts about the world and life in general. I know i am boring, but i guess when life is exposed to vagaries like this, one becomes comfortably dumb.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Muted sounds of life...
There are voices which, even when screamed out loud is never heard. The cries get buried and there is not even a sigh. The sounds which are waiting to explode, die without a fight. A song buzzing inside the head but is never sung, a muffled cry for help in a room full of known faces, a scream for company in an empty room , a sorry which was never said, a thank you to a stranger which got lost in the maze of thoughts.
We lead such pitiful lives, even with all these modes of communication, we haven't managed to say "I am lonely" in a room full of familiar faces. Walking down the street we search for a known face, but never return the smile of a child standing in the pavement. The urge to say 'hello' to the girl sitting next to you in the bus, drowns into the engine's sleepy whirring, masking thoughts forever. The nights when you cried yourself to sleep, waiting for a kind word and a warm hug but nobody heard you. Thoughts racing inside your head like freight train, while you lay yourself to sleep.
These are the sounds which never see the light of the day, just like us they too die a thousand deaths everyday.
We lead such pitiful lives, even with all these modes of communication, we haven't managed to say "I am lonely" in a room full of familiar faces. Walking down the street we search for a known face, but never return the smile of a child standing in the pavement. The urge to say 'hello' to the girl sitting next to you in the bus, drowns into the engine's sleepy whirring, masking thoughts forever. The nights when you cried yourself to sleep, waiting for a kind word and a warm hug but nobody heard you. Thoughts racing inside your head like freight train, while you lay yourself to sleep.
These are the sounds which never see the light of the day, just like us they too die a thousand deaths everyday.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Frozen food for overheated brain
Television has become new-age microwave oven for the average indian viewer these days, the News channels thaw and cook variety of instant noodles for the man on the run. Gone are the days when the only source of News was Doordarshan, which practically lived upto it's name Far away news from our very own country.
You wait for the world news to know about Somalia bombings and Angelina's latest adopted baby from Somalia grabs the eyeballs, and the bombing news is just a teeny weeny scrolling newsline in the bottom of the screen. Even small black ants are visible on the granite flooring of your house, when compared to the scrolling news on News channel. If you want to know more about new food, then the menu is readily available on your favourite News channels...from Good Food to Non-edible food (want to know how Surender singh cooked his food?) everything is laid bare from the type of cooking oil to how it's going to be ejected out of your system. next day morning. And, the non-edible part is usually hosted by a guy who one would usually find in C-grade movies, trying to rape the heroines. And the way he mouths his lines on the channel about a grisly murder of a buffalo which ensured, a spell bound audience from the hinterlands of the Fodder scam state. They ensure "Satisfacton Garunteed" tagline for all their instant food content. For adults they ensure MMS and all SEX scams are shown at late nights, so your mid-night binges are satisfied! Now there's no complaint from the adult crowd right!!
That's the kind of training you get from running a successful Udipi Restaurants in peak hours. I bet they sure got their cooking lessons from the guy from Udipi.
For the young girls and bored housewives, there's instant food for you too...Sanjay Dutt AKA Munnabhai wants to give you some makeupgiri lessons in your local beauty parlor with totally imported Indian Make-up kit. And he's going to help that chinese lady to apply masacara on you for free!! If that doesn't satisfy your tummy urges, Karan Johar might help you with tips on how to make the perfect blend of coffee with Abhishek and Aishwarya giving you demonstration, of how to boil tea leaves for perfect coffee.
As for kids, oh yes!! they do remember that you guys exist on this planet...they have the best of fizzy drinks at your disposal, Krish supports Coca Cola and Don likes his french fries. So bachha log, go ahead since it is accredited of purity in Indian standards it's totally safe to eat and drink pesticides..oops Homicides..oops Pepsi Cola with a Double Maharaja Mac of organically g(k)rilled chicken.
And all you elderly Aunties and Uncles, how can we forget you!! Baba Ramdev is bringing homemade Ethical Gajar Halwa to your local mall!! You can find it next to Hindu cola that was launched last week. It's got blessings of Certain Bapu from Bapu's state. So it's perfectly fine, it will kill germs inside your body and bingo!! you can use it as a flush too..all in the name of God!!
And you guys thought you were starved for food for your brain. Turn on the TV where ethical food is given to you, all you need to do is thaw it, let it get warm and Lo!! it's ready. And whoever said, couch potato is an extinct species...here's a pack of french fries marketed by Big B. Buy Big B and Get one Aby Baby free.
You wait for the world news to know about Somalia bombings and Angelina's latest adopted baby from Somalia grabs the eyeballs, and the bombing news is just a teeny weeny scrolling newsline in the bottom of the screen. Even small black ants are visible on the granite flooring of your house, when compared to the scrolling news on News channel. If you want to know more about new food, then the menu is readily available on your favourite News channels...from Good Food to Non-edible food (want to know how Surender singh cooked his food?) everything is laid bare from the type of cooking oil to how it's going to be ejected out of your system. next day morning. And, the non-edible part is usually hosted by a guy who one would usually find in C-grade movies, trying to rape the heroines. And the way he mouths his lines on the channel about a grisly murder of a buffalo which ensured, a spell bound audience from the hinterlands of the Fodder scam state. They ensure "Satisfacton Garunteed" tagline for all their instant food content. For adults they ensure MMS and all SEX scams are shown at late nights, so your mid-night binges are satisfied! Now there's no complaint from the adult crowd right!!
That's the kind of training you get from running a successful Udipi Restaurants in peak hours. I bet they sure got their cooking lessons from the guy from Udipi.
For the young girls and bored housewives, there's instant food for you too...Sanjay Dutt AKA Munnabhai wants to give you some makeupgiri lessons in your local beauty parlor with totally imported Indian Make-up kit. And he's going to help that chinese lady to apply masacara on you for free!! If that doesn't satisfy your tummy urges, Karan Johar might help you with tips on how to make the perfect blend of coffee with Abhishek and Aishwarya giving you demonstration, of how to boil tea leaves for perfect coffee.
As for kids, oh yes!! they do remember that you guys exist on this planet...they have the best of fizzy drinks at your disposal, Krish supports Coca Cola and Don likes his french fries. So bachha log, go ahead since it is accredited of purity in Indian standards it's totally safe to eat and drink pesticides..oops Homicides..oops Pepsi Cola with a Double Maharaja Mac of organically g(k)rilled chicken.
And all you elderly Aunties and Uncles, how can we forget you!! Baba Ramdev is bringing homemade Ethical Gajar Halwa to your local mall!! You can find it next to Hindu cola that was launched last week. It's got blessings of Certain Bapu from Bapu's state. So it's perfectly fine, it will kill germs inside your body and bingo!! you can use it as a flush too..all in the name of God!!
And you guys thought you were starved for food for your brain. Turn on the TV where ethical food is given to you, all you need to do is thaw it, let it get warm and Lo!! it's ready. And whoever said, couch potato is an extinct species...here's a pack of french fries marketed by Big B. Buy Big B and Get one Aby Baby free.
Monday, January 08, 2007
This is not going to be interesting...
I swear on all the aborted foetuses of the world, i had no hand in the execution of Saddam Hussein. And i was not in Manhattan yesterday, i swear on Blair and Bush my two heroes i've got nothing to do with it. It was just a harmless leak of Natural gas or whatever you call it. I did not fart or belch there alright. And to think they have got Air sensors too..think of what warnings it will give in Bombay...every five minutes it'll let off a siren warning everytime Rakhi sawant passes by that installation. Now don't ask me why i mentioned Rakhi, go ask Mika. Maybe it's for the same reasons he kissed her.
For instant publicity like maggi noodles ...Bas Do Minute...Walk to Siddhivinayak Temple with Abhishek and Amitabh Bachhan, the walk won't get over in Two minutes ..but you will surely get your Fifteen minutes of fame like Andy Warhol said. Your pictures will flash across all News channels for the whole day, when killings in Assam are not of much importance other than what kind of puja did they did there.
A trip to the Sincity of India..Goa for all ye lesser mortals...when entertainment on a cruise liner feels like Himesh Reshamiyya breathing down your neck with his mouth...reason..he sings through his nose. If that ain't enough the host of the loud obnoxious orchestra..with a weird accent in tow..asking kids, Men, Couples and Women to dance on stage where there's hardly anyplace to keep drums and a mic. They danced like they never danced before, a situation which looked like a crowded local train in peak hours where people stand tiptoe for space, dodging smelly armpits, loud ringtones belting out " Hey Ram.. Hey Ram" when all you can think is where is my Gun!! I guess the guy standing next to me is dead!! Omigod he stole my gun and killed himself.
And if you think this is interesting then wait for some more uninteresting stuff that i went through on my road trip last month. Hopefully i'll not be jailed for that Gun and dead guy. If i live in democracy then the next post will be out soon.
For instant publicity like maggi noodles ...Bas Do Minute...Walk to Siddhivinayak Temple with Abhishek and Amitabh Bachhan, the walk won't get over in Two minutes ..but you will surely get your Fifteen minutes of fame like Andy Warhol said. Your pictures will flash across all News channels for the whole day, when killings in Assam are not of much importance other than what kind of puja did they did there.
A trip to the Sincity of India..Goa for all ye lesser mortals...when entertainment on a cruise liner feels like Himesh Reshamiyya breathing down your neck with his mouth...reason..he sings through his nose. If that ain't enough the host of the loud obnoxious orchestra..with a weird accent in tow..asking kids, Men, Couples and Women to dance on stage where there's hardly anyplace to keep drums and a mic. They danced like they never danced before, a situation which looked like a crowded local train in peak hours where people stand tiptoe for space, dodging smelly armpits, loud ringtones belting out " Hey Ram.. Hey Ram" when all you can think is where is my Gun!! I guess the guy standing next to me is dead!! Omigod he stole my gun and killed himself.
And if you think this is interesting then wait for some more uninteresting stuff that i went through on my road trip last month. Hopefully i'll not be jailed for that Gun and dead guy. If i live in democracy then the next post will be out soon.
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