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Thursday, October 16, 2008

Over the hill.

I wanted to go for a movie. Firrst day first show. Just one of those crazy teenage whims you know. Im trying to convince my friends...take a look at the convo:


Auntie Lila says:
im going to get brain tumor
Auntie Lila says:
the kinda of hours im spending on the phone is not even funny. I hate this contrapetion. I prefer the old phones we had in my day
Auntie Lila says:
my cell and my ears are always hot. I am an old person

Auntie Lila just sent you a nudge with her walking stick.

Arvind says:
yeah
Arvind says:
so u in o wot
Arvind says:
10 at fun
Auntie Lila says:
any other show?
Arvind says:
chall na
Arvind says:
arre ill be too late to work man
Auntie Lila says:
in gaiety or something whre old people can sit? These young ruffians spoil my movie.
Arvind says:
one day you cant wake up?
Arvind says:
ill calll you

Auntie Lila says:
il let u know in a bit son


Auntie Lila just sent you a nudge with her walking stick.

Auntie Lila says:
can we go on saturday then?even auntie sheela will be able to come
Arvind says:
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
Arvind says:
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck fuuuuuuck fuuuuck
Arvind says:
first day first fuckin show
Arvind says:
why the fuck not
Arvind says:
fuuuuuuuuuuck
Auntie Lila says:
ooofff bad boy
where you learnt this devil language
todays kids no? all bleddy rascal mouths
Auntie Lila says:
do what u want beta!
Auntie Lila says:
10 is too early son. I take time to get off my bed with my back problem
Auntie Lila says:
if there is some show at 11 then fine
Arvind says:
11.15?
Auntie Lila says:
cool
Arvind says:
really
Arvind says:
Convince snitch na
Auntie Lila says:
where
Arvind says:
fun
Auntie Lila says:
where is it?
Auntie Lila says:
is there any show at gaiety or something?
Auntie Lila says:
he wil have to travel baba…don’t make an old man do that
Auntie Lila says:
if its in bandra it will be convenient for everyone…there is an old age house there
Auntie Lila says:
is there a strike tom?we old people can’t take buses.

Auntie Lila just sent you a nudge with her walking stick.

Auntie Lila says:
has the strike been called off?
Arvind says:
has
Arvind says:
yeah

Uncle Sam has been added to the conversation.

Auntie Lila says:
does this it easier?
Uncle Sam says:
yes this it easier
Auntie Lila says:
how much is the 11 show at fun?
Auntie Lila says:
is it dut chep too? My pension is meager son…the govt hates old people

Uncle Sam and Auntie Lila cry like old people.

Auntie Lila says:
pls remind me to call pension office tomorrow.
Uncle Sam says:
Okay. And you remind me to take my arthritis pills after my backache and piles medicine.




I think I need younger friends!

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Market Meltdown Mayhem

You buy because I make you buy.
You eat because I make you eat.
You smile because I make you smile.
You do Pilates because I make you do Pilates.
You cry because I enjoy seeing you cry.

I am god. I am the devil. I am the alpha and omega of your world. I am Apple. I am Nike. I am Chanel No.5. I am Coca Cola. I am Microsoft. I am McDonalds. I am MasterCard. I am Prada. I am the neighbourhood mall. I am eBay. I am the multiplex. I am the 5.1 surround sound home theatre system. I am greed. I am desire. I am envy. I am what you want.

You’ve heard about the four horsemen of the apocalypse?
They’re me, me, me and you.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

A ticket to redemption costs 3 rupees and 50 paise

I stub my cigarette and start climbing the stairs of the railway bridge. The planners on this place sure were a bunch of funny folk. They built the railway such that it passes bang through the centre of the place. Consequently, every area in the city is divided into the east and west. I work in the west and live in the east, so every evening I have to cross over by this bridge.


The bridge is normally full of people crossing over, railway ticket checkers waiting to fill their coffers with bribes from ticketless travelers, salesmen selling everything from pirated CDs to lingerie and a dozen odd urchins who pester you like the change in your pockets is their birthright. This night, the bridge was empty save one solitary beggar.

It didn’t shock me or anything. It was hardly odd, sort of pleasant in fact. A select few must have had the pleasure to see the bridge this empty. I paused for a second and took the view in and then resumed walking towards my destination.

The lone beggar sat at the east end. He saw me coming. I expected him to cry out for alms or wave his outstretched palm as the universal symbol for “Spare change?”. Strangely, he did nothing of the sort. He just sat there staring into me. Yeah, into me, not at me, into me.

I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep for 48 hours straight or the quarter of whiskey I’d downed that night but something right there, right then washed over me. My sight went blurred, I felt like I was moving without physically doing so. I moved ahead till I reached the old unwashed beggar. So close that I could feel see the lice in his matted hair, smell the stench of his foul breath. Then, I was him.

I was him. I could see what he saw, feel what he felt. I saw myself coming towards myself. A brat, with a confident strut, with his head up in the air, ears plugged with a costly music player. A guy who didn’t give a rat’s ass about the shit around him. He didn’t open his mouth but spoke volumes. He was sure that he had a hot meal and a warm bed waiting for him at home. He was sure that he would wake up the next morning and make it through the day, and the next and the next. Yet, he lived in a fake misery born out of envy and greed. Wanting that and this and everything in between. While I sat there knowing what true misery is.

I had become the beggar.

It was like an omen. I don’t know why but it felt like fate was telling me something. The next second I opened my eyes and I was myself again. The beggar was still staring at me with bulging faded eyes. I walked fast, almost broke into a run and dashed off the bridge.

Then, I did what is probably the strangest thing I’ve ever done. I walked bag to the beggar and emptied all the change in my pockets into his bowl. He was sleeping by then. He didn’t even wake up to acknowledge me. I know, he would probably spend all that on cheap country liquor and drugs, but something told me I had to give him my money. I was him. This act I’d like to believe, though I know it isn’t, was my ticket to redemption.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Perfect World

Arvind was sick of the world which he lived in. And for a reason too. There was just far too much sadness for one planet to handle. Terrorism had made everyone paranoid. Global Warming had everyone sweating in pools. Corruption no longer affected the system, it WAS the system. Commercialization and consumerism had molested the romance in every little thing. As Arvind oft used to say, “ It’s all too fucked up!”

So one fine grossly insignificant afternoon, this boy, nay man, decided to hitch a ride out of this world. He drank a hot cup of black coffee (1 cube of sugar), played Lennon’s Imagine on his music player. Then he took consumed a dozen sleeping pills. Calmly then he took a blade and slit his wrists, and ankles for good measure. Then hanging off a noose, he shot himself in the head. It didn’t hurt that much. He left behind a suicide note:

“I hate the world.” Nice and short, innit?

Arvind woke up on a park bench. A clean white park bench; no pan spittle or crowshit or footmarks on it. Around was a strange land. It was all green, with rolling meadows and lush green trees. Little pink and yellow butterflies fluttered around. There were a dozen odd people around him, pretty people at that. Extremely pretty. Everyone looked like a million bucks. No pimples, scars, bruises, crow feet, wrinkles or anything. All the men were tall, well built and agile. All the women had dark long lustrous hair, curvaceous bodies, full lips, twinkling eyes …what not! The men and women wore the same loose semi transparent white robes. They all were laughing and running about like little kids. In fact some of them were acting pretty strange. There was a woman who kept pulling out a man’s heart. She’d do that, he’d fall on the floor apparently dead only to stand up again and give out a hearty laugh. Then the woman would do it again. There was a man who kept falling from the sky. He’d fall, then jump back up to the moon and then fall again. Most people though just sat around in the shades of the trees singing, dancing or looking at pretty pictures on a big TV screen.

“ Hello there, we’ve been expecting you…”, Arvind looked up to see a large black man towering over him. The man strangely resembled Morpheus from the Matrix. “ I see you’re taking a look around”, said the man as he seated himself beside Arvind.

“ Huh, what where am I , who are you?”

“Ah!”,exclaimed the black man, “ I though you’d have figured that out already! You are in Perfectland. We are all people who left earth behind to reach this place. You will find that this is the world you’ve dreamt about…”

“Huh?Wha?” Arvind replied like a retard.

“You’ll figure everything out very soon. I will take your leave now.”, the man said as he got up to leave.

“Wait.. what do I do here”

“Nothing. No one does anything here in Perfectland.You want anything, just think about it…it’ll appear before you.”

Saying that the man left leaving Arvind alone to figure the world out.

…………………….

Arvind was tired of perfect land!!!

It’s too perfect. He is just fucking sick of the place. True, there was no hate but then there was no love either. No sadness but then no one was happy. No fear, but then all excitement and adventure is lost. No pain, no sorrow. No one dies, no one lives. He had to get outta here …

There must be another place around that was normal, he had to find the way out. He thought of a car, soon a shiny red SUV presented itself before him. He jumped in and d away.

Arvind had been driving for hours now, in no particular direction. He is determined to find an exit. He steers as his mind asks him to…intuition will find him a way…or so he hopes. Eventually he dozes off at the wheel.

Arvind woke up to a deafening crash. The car had stopped. He got out to examine the damage. Surprisingly he’s unscathed…not even a scratch on his body . The car though was heavily damaged. It’s piled up against a score of other cars which seem to have crashed in to a wall. It’s a long wall…a long endless wall. No way over it, no way under it, no way around it.

Arvind sighed and noticed a sign board by the road.

“Welcome to Perfectland”, it read.

The sign was battered and was peeling off the board. Having nothing else to do, Arvind walked over to it and peeled the sign off.

Then he laughed like a madman.

“Welcome to Hell.”, it read, underneath.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

The Chaddi Chronicles


The tale starts in the dark and damp National College auditorium. ( The lights and AC were off ). An enthusiastic senior was trying to convince us BMM folks to buy a souvenir college T shirt. It is supposed to be a white piece with the college name/insignia at the back. A pointing finger…no not that one you idiot. And the tagline-

‘ R.D National BMM: Where were you?’

OK! That’s cool. But I wanted a different Tagline.

‘RD National BMM: CHADDI!’

And instead of the finger-there should be a chaddi.

It is here I would like to say, I have no qualms with the original design. I’m sure the makers put a whole lot of thought and effort into it. But then again- I’m a certified retard…seriously…I HAVE CERTIFICATES TO PROVE MY RETARDNESS!

Now this whole chaddi thing went rolling on from there. This is the birth of the chaddi jokes…the most inane kind of humor in the world…second only to Paris Hilton’s leaked tapes.

Here are a few chaddi jokes- It’s simple, replace a word in the name of any movie,book or song and voila you have a chaddi joke! Here it goes. Read them out aloud- it makes it funnier and also makes people around you doubt your sanity.

Schindler’s Chaddi , SAVING RYAN’S CHADDIES( Saving Pvt Ryan), Rang De Chaddi , Dil Chaddi Hai, CHADDI WARS: THE CHADDI STRIKES BACK, Hum Chaddi De Chuke Sanam, Hum Saath Chaddi Hain, I: Proud to be a Chaddi, Chaddi Connection, RGV KI CHADDI( RGV ki Aag), JAMES BOND: THE CHADDI IS NOT ENOUGH….

Or maybe substitute the word in dialogues:

Gabbar: Arre Oh Samba kitne Chaddi the?

Samba: Sarkar, Do…

Gabbar: Chaddi Do aur Aadmi Teen? Bahut Nainsafi Hai ….

Or in a song, or a convo or anything…..Let loose your imagination. Leave your chuddies and chaddi jokes in the comments.

I’d like to thank all the guys who sat with me cracking inane chaddi jokes. Fuck man, Get a life !!!

May the CHADDI be with you!

Sunday, June 29, 2008

What? In the name of God.

I hail from a very funny land. They call it God’s Own Country. And its ruled by Atheistic Communists. A joke very often repeated among us Mallus. Yes, we like our dry wit.

Last week, the students of Kerala rejoiced over a long unannounced holiday. Why? Lemme relate the long unfunny tale-

The fresh new textbooks distributed to 12 year old students of the state contained had the following idea mention. I more or less quote-

“ Religion is not important. Children should be given a free reign to grow up to choose their own faith. Inter-caste and inter-religious marriages should be encouraged.”

This seemingly harmless statement has created a furore in the state. Various student organizations have forced schools to shut down and send pupils back home. Why? You ask? What’s so bad about the statement?

Well, many organizations feel the ruling Left are trying to inscribe their propaganda in the minds of young children. Remember ‘twas Marx who said, “Religion is the Opium of the masses”. The Left argue that such ideas are present even in the Centre monitored NCERT books, therefore there is no question of removing it.

So while the two parties fight it out, the rest of us Mallus rely on the coverage on TV and Newspapers to entertain us. Yes, we enjoy Black Humour too!

Thursday, May 29, 2008

10 websites I don't hate

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Paint It Black.

WARNING:If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word youread of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don'tyou have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestlycan't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you soimpressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all whoclaim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you thinkeverything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you shouldwant? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex.Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start afight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you willbecome a statistic. You have been warned...... Tyler

Opening credits of Fight Club

Needless to say it's a fuckinglyawesomlymidbendingly brilliant movie.
But this is not about the movie.
It is about Tyler Durden.

I wish I could be a Tyler Durden! Fuck society,the rules,the regulations,the daily routine,proper behaviour and all that jazz.Be the anarchist I want to be.Get out of this rat race."The thing about a rat race is .......even if you win you're a rat".So very true man.

But it's all a dream...I can never do it....I'm down this rabbit hole for good...and I must be a good bunny....life is going to tick away second after slow second...before I know it I'd be on my deathbed waiting for the light to come...

This blog has no happy ending. Very sorry if it fucked up your day.
Even more sorry if you don't care.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

picture blog#2

Just another funny image I found.
MCCain's so old ...he probably had a pet dinosaur as a kid!!
HAaha

Sunday, April 27, 2008

things fell apart

Yes, it is the 21st century. Yes, this is the age of the metrosexuals.

Okay, So...Men can wax.

Men can get manicures and pedicures.

Men can pay 600 bucks to get their hair styled by a fag.

Fuck, men can wear pink even!

All in all men can stay in touch with their feminine side.





But...I've said this once ,said it again and will say it elevnty million times....

MEN SHOULD NOT CRY IN PUBLIC.

Its just not effing right....I don't mean to be all macho or anything...if a guy wants to cry he can do so ALONE....but NOT in front of others man!(And definitely not on national TV.)





Just the sight of a man crying is ugly.Its disgustingly despicable.

It's not the same with women. Even when women cry they paint a picture of grace and poise. ...They pull a string of sympathy in your heart....

But when a guy cries ,you just want to give him one tight slap and tell him to fucking pull himself together.

(please note:This does not mean I like to see women cry. )



Case in point....the ol' Mallu Mon ....Sreeshant getting a tight one courtsey Bhajji.

What makes it worse is that it's a Mallu crying....mallus don't cry easy....we watch movies with fat lungi flipping heroes and fatter heriones and yet we do not cry ....live in a land where there are two strikes in a week and yet we don't cry...call our land Gods own country and let atheistic communists rule...STILLL...NO CRYING!

Eda mone Sreesanth...you've let us down ,bugger.


Well ...i guess two people must be happy now.

Sachin.....Now he has company on the sidelines for all the Mumbai Indians (Mumbai Idiots??)matches.
Symonds....pure schadenfreude man.....pure unadultrated schadenfreude...



That's all folks!!



I said THAT'S ALL...NOW FUCK OFF.







Random photo


why choose when you can combine.............
Btw what about Mc Cain?
Hahaha

Monday, April 21, 2008

rnadom Occasional movie review.

Its always more fun to review a bad movie....helps you let out all your viciousness...
U,Me Aur Hum.

1. Punch yourself in the face till you bleed.
2. Take a fork. Pluck your eyeballs out of their sockets.
3. Eat a dozen razor blades. Preferably rusty ones.
4.Give yourself a vasectomy/tubectomy.

The above actions would probably be less torturous and result in less mental damage than watching the shitty godawfully horrible and fuckingly stupid excuse for a movie that is U, Me aur Hum.

Why?? Why you ask????Ok where do I start?

The script was Okay…whether it was ripped off from ‘The Notebook or not, I can’t comment…I haven’t seen the notebook… ….but the shoddy job of the Screenplay and Dialogues ruined whatever was good in the script .....completely. Ajay Devgan’s character Ajay cracks terribly unfunny and stale jokes throughout the movie and Pia (Kajol) retorts with equally mind numbing comebacks. Twenty thousnad braincells of mine committed suicide during the course of the movie.(Probably which is why this review is so dumb)

In the acting department, Kajol and Sachin Khedekar shine ….Kajol’s portrayal of the Alzheimer’s affected young woman is marvelous…and Sachin does a subtly brilliant role of the Doctor.
Sumeet Raghavan ( Sahil from Sarabhai vs Sarabhai) and Divya Dutta’s acting talents are completely wasted in their haphazardly etched roles.
As for Isha Shravani….she should give up acting and stick to dancing. ...Stupid Bitch!!

Now the best part…the direction. By god! Ajay Devgan’s work should be shown to directors all over the world ….so that they learn….what NOT to do…
Every second shot is a fucking close up. By the end of the movie you could probably count, recount and double check the number of pores on Mr.Devgan’s humungous nose.
Further more there is always a charcter who has nothing whatsoever to do in the scene hogging the frame. I mean when Pia is giving a touching dialogue 'bout her ailment how it affects her family and all that jazz....... why in the name of all that is holy would I want to see the back of a bald doctor??????
Fucking Dumbass Devgan.....A blind and mentally retarded chuimpanzee can make a better movie...


IN A NUTSHELL: Avoid, avoid ,AVOID AT ALL COSTS!

Monday, April 14, 2008

HA HA


Hillarious picture ......It's titled Hopscotch To Oblivion ........hahahahahaha......!!!!

Oh that's it! Get off the blog now.

Friday, April 11, 2008

R A N D O M

"Hey... I dont think you guys must have heard 'bout me...but I've heard a lot about some of you...Arvind's told me a lot...Oh! I'm really sorry....I forgot to introduce myself...i'm Arvind's liver.I've been with Arvind for eighteen years now.Yeah eighteen long years. The first sixteen were actually fine...I lived an untroubled life ....then Arvind discovered ALCOHOL!
Since then at least once a week, he tries to drown me in that horrible vile fluid. The last week has been worse, theres been too much alcohol.... too much...all that beer... all that whiskey...all that vodka......noooo...Too weak to write anymore.......HELP!!!"



Shut up stupid organ!!!!
Sorry about that folks.....just my stupid liver....excuse it...it often comes up with such retardedness ...too much alcohol???? wtf is that????
So yeah life's good now.Almost.
I need to go now....there's a pitcher of golden goodness waiting for me..........
Toodle Doo.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

The year that was ...Legend...wait for it...dary

True incident. I swear.

One month into college and I'm in Delhi... NDTV Scholar Hunt .....First prize :Fully paid Scholarship to Cardiff University,UK for a Film/Media Studies course.....and theres a dillema...Do I WANT to win it?
One month into BMM and it felt like home.After two years in hell (read Goklibai) I was finnally in a place i could relate to the people and vice versa( hate that phrase but had to use it !) .

I actually LIKED my classmates (most of them).
I LIKED the course.
I didnt feel like slaughtering most of the proffesors.
'Twas a feeling truly strange for me.

Good times bad times...Chairbreak at Chillams...The discovery of Hamla...Cutting Chai !..Kerala I.V.( I.V. really??)

Working in a group was fun. Aww who am I kidding?? My group wants to kill me!!! But hey..Ravi ,Pooja ,Prerna ,Devesh ..you're a damn fine bunch to work with ...and I dont plan to kill you....SWEAR!

And the buddies....(awwwwww) Aarti, Amogh,Chillam,Dobu,Henna,Sharanya I might call on you guys even when I'm 30 and goin' through a mid life crisis...(not that you'd be of help.IDIOTS)
And everyone else in class : to quote Bilbo Baggins,"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. "

Thats all folks!
May the force be with you!

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Friday, March 28, 2008

Tag # 3...10 Things I Hate...




10 things I Hate



Mogi boy....you sure tagged me with a task here...10 things I hate and why?







1.Travelling in crowded public transport.


Bleeding idiots that populate (poopulate?) the city havent heard of deoderants. Yes,sir ...I know shuffling between Work,Dance Bar and Wife leaves you no time to have a bath...but please do something about the Mahim Creek like odour you emanate .



2.Random Hip Hop Wannabes.


Bling? Hoods? Gats? Hoes? You fucking idiot you're NOT on the streets of Compton.And the "Bling" looks less P Diddy more Bappi Lahiri.


3.Curd


It is spoilt milk. It has bacteria in it. It stinks.


4.Inane lyrics in todays songs.


"Bin tere sanam,


Is jahan me,


Bekaraar hum,


Dum da dumda dum."



WTF?? Did the lyricist hold the last line captive because he didnt get fully paid. Or are the makers of this song anally retarded?


5. My PC


It does whatever it feels like . I swear. This one time I've actually heard it say. "I'm too bored so I'm not going to save this presentation. Gonna conk off now! Best of luck in class tommorow! " and then it gave an evil laugh before hanging.


6.Chicken pox


7.Kinetic Hondas /Scooties.


I hate those shitty things . I really don't know why. I like the Bajaj scooter though.


8.DSP


For those who don't know it stands for Director's Special. The worst excuse for whiskey ever. Never try it. NEVER.

9.Gujjus.

I don't mean people from Gujarat as such. I mean Gujjus .You know them. Shiny clothes,fat cellphones,constantly yapping .."Bluetooth on karo ne!". I attribute this to the two years spent in Goklibai.

10.Myself.

To an extent.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Alkyholics

Wooookay boys and girls...our topic today is alcohol. Its an organic compound with a hydroxyl bond and its good....yes it is....
Alcohol gets you drunk.
Now there are different levels of drunkness...lemme explain
1.Lil' Buzzed
This is when you've had a few beers. You feel a bit loose and free.At this point you still have control of all your body parts.
Useful: Before exams, vivas ,interviews,meetings,mass murders etc.
2.Bit Drunk/I think I've had a lil' too much
This is after a few quarters of whiskey , rum or vodka or half a dozen pints.Youre really loose now...Uninhibited...you start singing....people start throwing bottles at you.....they break...you start to bleed.
Useful: After exams, Your Birthday,Others Birthdays, Open Bars.
3.Fuck I've had waaaaay tooo much
Now you can jump tall buildings in a single bound...oh yes...youre soooopermaaan!!
This is the funnest drunk stage ...anything after this is gonna be bad...you can dance naked now...you can sing Himesh....you can eat Vaseline on toast.
Useful: When you want to eat bread and Vaseline
4.Oh My God<> !!!
Hahahaaahhaha ...warned you.......now youre gonna puke you're guts out......Watchout for that big ass hangover.....hahahahahahha...puke....
Useful: When you just broke up/ turned down /find out that your wife was once a guy......



PS: I'm wasted and writing this shite!!!
PS PS : Whiskey rules OK?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I've been tagged.........woo hoo!....or crap!....I don't know......is it good to be tagged? I'm new here.

Hey what the hell.... here it goes.
6 Quirks
1. I bite my lip. A lot. In fact I do it even when I'm sleeping .
2. When I talk in malayalam, its mostly in third person. like " Arvind wants a glass of water" as opposed to " I want....". Long story behind it.
3. I use the word " Stoopid" too often.
4. I sometimes go for a jog after dinner.
5. Curd really disgusts me. In fact, if anyone in my vicinity is eating curd I try to stay as far away as possible.
6.I hate going to the doctor. Even if Im sick.



So now what ? Do I tag more people.
Assuming a yes... I tag Henna and Ravi.
The post ends here.
Merci Beacoup

Friday, March 7, 2008

Of Ends and Means.
The phoenix rises from its embers,
Though it was never gone.
It never lived, never died
It never did belong.
Yet, it was there from the dawn of time
Singing that immortal song
Of times that come, of times that go
Of times come and gone.

Of times that come, of times that go
Of times come and gone;
Of consequences good or bad
Of actions right or wrong
Of consequences good or bad;
Not actions right or wrong.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Buses,Patent Leather Seats,Pamela Anderson

The Fame adlabs Theatre has plush ,black , patent leather seats which dreamily squish when you rest your buttocks on them ,tickets are 200 bucks.You are treated like a king and the theatrewallah people get you blankets and coke and popcorn and coffee on your request.
It also has red hard seats where you have to crane your neck to see both sides of the screen.Here the ushers look at you like scum from the bottom of mahim creek. You also get the free gift of a backache after the movie, tickets are a hundred bucks.
Being the cheapo that I am I caught a movie in the latter type. After the flick my friend who has the luxury of his own car askedme if I needed a lift . Dunno what it was that made me say no...gotta get myselt psychoanalysed for masochistic traits.
Having not enough money for a rick I had no alternative but to take a bus.A bus to any place is theoretically available every 20 minutes..but I had to wait for an hour.Maybe they mean 20 pluto minutes
Then when the blessed thing finally arrived a hundred people got into an enclosure meant for about sixty. If the driver didnt have that enclosure sorta thing for himself , I'm sure a few would have seated themselves on his lap.
Anyways Ive noticed that i spend about 2/5 of my day in buses ...so its about 2/5 of a home to me ..hyuk hyuk ...sorry sad joke!
So after travelling for an hour in a creaking old bus with a hundred sweaty smelly travellers who definitely have not heard of deaodrants i reached home ,flopped on my bed,fell asleep and dreamt of plush black patent leather seats in buses where Pamela Anderson sells tickets in slow motion wearing a red swimsuit..........
So long and So forth.................
Astalavista Baby!

Thus Spake the Lord

Being the Lord ,Master and Maker of all the universes,I have infinite time and space. So I have time to think of small insignificant things such as the state of a puny little planet called earth.

Just the other day I was having a cup of the Elixr of life with my colleague Lucifer(whom you probably know as Satan) when he brought up the topic of Satanism in a tiny place called Earth.

He said that it's the most prevalent religion there.I was bloody shocked!As far as I knew Satanism involved killing babies and animals and stuff like that ....surely earthlings didnt practise that (well not all of them!)...then ol' Luci corrected me ,he tells me "Self Preservation is the foremost law of Satanism and all earthlings heavily follow it !"

So ,Earthlings I wanted to tell y'all that all of you are going to hell ,unless you have any connections in Heaven like Arvind Menon ,Bono , Angelina Jolie,Marilyn Manson(No he's not the antichrist ,it's Himesh Reshammya)..then you are surely going to hell.....Have Fun!

Oh yes and Arvind reminds me to ask you all to leave comments.

May the rest of your time on earth be peaceful.

The Lord.

Lyrical Analysis

Lyrical Analysis

Lyrical Analysis 101
Just the other day someone(a fan) was telling me ...Everyone else does poetry , stories and other artsy stuff on blogs ...why dont you ,O! Arvind the great!...
Being the fan pleaser I am ,I decided to do something artsy analysis of popular lyrics.And as my first subject I have chosen punk princess Avril Lavigne's new track 'Girlfriend'
"Hey hey, you you....."
"No way, no way..."
Note the use of repitition here to get the point across...brilliant..
" I don't like your girlfriend......."
See how nIcely the problem is put across...
"I think you need a new one......" "...I could be your girlfriend....."
Ah look she also provides a solution!
" You're so fine
I want you [to be] mine
You're so delicious
I think about you all the time
You're so addictive
Don't you know
What I can do
To make you feel alright
( alright alright alright)"
The lyrics here may seem inane but only to the untrained mind...just look at the rhyming scheme-fine,mine,time...how original! And she also adresses important stuff like addictions...very deep ..
"... She's like so whatever...."
Like..So...whatever.....three cliched teen words back to back...Thats like so like kewl like dewd !
I could analyse rest of the song but the meanings are so deep that the readers will end up really confused.
P.S: Great going Avril....I bet the grandaddies of punk-The Sex Pistols,Ramones,The Clash are all very proud of you! NOT!
P.S P.S: All those who could not catch the sarcasm in this blog...drop dead you stupid fucks ...
P.S P.S P.S:All fans of Avril ....Im NOT sorry if you are offended...you see that was exactly the idea
P.S P.S P.S P.S :I have 4 postscripts in this......jus wanted to let you know!

The Happy Tune™

The world is at war …again..and this time its worse than it has ever been. The entire planet is a battle zone . People now no longer live in houses…everybody’s a nomad.

Death and destruction is all one generation will know, perhaps the last generation of humans on earth.

I walk through the debris and corpses on the streets, there are men in military costumes with flame throwers who shout out slogans as they burn each other to death .The air is filled with the stench of burnt human flesh. I do not puke neither do I hold my nose . I have seen death many a time in many different places.

I am no traveler or wanderer .I am a man in search of something .I scour the battlefields and graveyards for a Happy Tune™ that I heard long long ago in more peaceful times.

Far across the horizon I see a blue scarf floating in the wind. It belongs to a raven haired girl who plays the blues. She sits on a battle tank with her broken guitar and plays her blues to the nothingness around her. Enchanted, I go to her. I look up at her and ask her to play me the Happy Tune™ that I’m looking for.

She smiles at me and throws the guitar aside. Slowly she climbs down her from her tank and approaches me.

She asks me to close my eyes.

I obey.

Using her soft hands she cups both my ears so that I hear no sounds of the battle that surrounds us.

And then I dance.

I dance with such merriness that flowers bloom where my feet land.

I dance because I found the tune.

The Happy Tune

That which I looked for all around the world was in my head all this while.

She smiles, picks up her instrument and walks away.


" I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away."