Busy days are here again

A lot has been happening around me. And that has kept me busy.

Much of this stuff is pretty interesting. Some tad boring. Some outrageously funny. Some pretty sad-wonly things as well. Bestest thing, however, has been the buying of my new car. Yes, first one for the family. A sedan. Yay!

And I have sworn that I shall not be cribbing about my new job on my blog. Not for a while at least. So that has taken a heavy toll on my cribbing-blogging. The world around has also been seeing a wide gamut of activities which could have been potential fodder for blog-posts. But, I honestly haven't been interested. So even though we have seen Deepika Padukone salaciously inviting you to pull her skirt, rich fathers renting arm-candies for useless sons, dudes stripping naked on TV to boost TRPs, relaunch of Mimoh Chakravarty, the much-dignified (?) comeback of the Dada (which has led to most Bangalis supporting Pune Warriors instead of KKR), the end of the Left in Bengal, a wedding and a death jostling for media attention, none of these could convince me to dedicate a blog to them.

Things may change. I will have to get Ready soon *bites nails*. Dhinka Chika.

Crib-Post # 2

Of the many weird things that people often ask me, this one clearly takes the cake. "Was your marriage an arranged one or a love one?" I mean "What the f***?"

No, seriously. And this question is asked in the most unlikely of situations too.

So, second day of office after transfer to Calcutta and this colleague saunters into my cubicle with a grin on his face. "I didn't know you are married." "Um.. mm.. been one year," and I smiled, not knowing what else to do. "You look young! Was it a love marriage?" he implored, with a gossip-starved look on his face. "No, it was arranged by my parents." He walked away with all his hopes of finding an interesting story washed down the drain.

And he is not the only one. Old friends who meet after a long time, people who you have met just an hour back, clients who have this nosy habit of asking about which gulli of which village did your grandfather come from... they all would invariably include this question as part of the "How are you?s and How do you do?s" and I am left wondering how does it really matter?

Maybe I am cribbing also because I do not have this knack for asking too many nosy questions to others about their lives. I mean if there is something I should know, the other person would tell me himself, right?

Or is it only that I have too many weird people around me?

So, what is your Cause?

A few weeks back, we saw almost the whole of India take on the Govt in support of Anna Hazare. The objective was very noble: to root out corruption from the country and punish the scumbags who have been scouring the country hollow. Prominent amongst those who came out on to the streets to protest were actors, celebrities and youngsters.

Yes. Youngsters. Which should mean that the youth of India is responsible, aware and concerned. That makes the future of India bright and shining indeed. Only if.

Now, I do not wish to make a generalized statement. I am far too ill-informed to make one. Just that a lot of things about the whole incident amuse me to no end. And they, more worryingly, also scare me to some extent.

On TV I saw a school-kid (barely into his teens) making strong statements in support of the movement and justifying his presence at the protest-site. I would have loved to ask that poor soul some more questions about the movement. But I wasn't at the site myself. Now, please do not get me wrong. I am not commenting on the movement or its sanctity at all, in fact if there is something that this post is not about, it's the movement itself.

Gullibility can be dangerous. And something that can be even more dangerous is to think that it is fashionable to project that you are concerned, and aware, and responsible. When a very close friend cajoled me to join him for the candle-light vigil, I implored him - 'Why are you supporting this movement?'
'It's about corruption!' - he glared at me, I being this national traitor.
'So, you think corruption can be eradicated by doing what the movement seeks to do?' I persisted.
He gave me a blank look. 'They are protesting against corruption!' - he tried to redeem himself. And then, to belittle it all, he said, 'Plus the crowd would be good *wink*'...

I have seen people who go the extra mile. From flaunting a habit as eclectic as "I'm Vegetarian on Tuesdays" to something as done-by-all as "I don't wear Fur". They wouldn't touch fire-crackers on Diwali because they support the movement against noise and air pollution, but would go crazy bursting them when Indian cricket team wins the World Cup. The rise of social networking sites has taken these to a new maddening level.

Let's make the world a little more normal, shall we? And no it's not cool if you start a movement for 'making the world normal'!!

It feels like Home

Potholed roads, dirty streets, people bickering over how Dada was cheated and humiliated by that 'enemy of the land' SRK (personally, I detest them both), election loud-speakers and rallies, overcrowded Metros (God didn't want me to miss Mumbai local trains after all), and the horrid weather making you sweaty and smelly. Still, it feels like home. That must be because it is home, duh.

What I am trying to imply is that I do not want to crib about Calcutta the way I used to about Bombay. And that's because there are so many good things about it. For example:

Ambassador Taxis:
Yes, I am fed-up of the tiny Fiat-taxis of Bombay (after bumping my head n number of times, while getting in, while getting out, while sitting in the cab!). The Calcutta taxis are the massive ambassadors, which not only carry 8 people aaram se, and as many luggage bags as you may possibly want to fit in the boot, they also have some other very unique uses, one of which is displayed in the attached picture.


Didi Fights:
Have you ever seen a stern-looking, Bong Didi? If you have not, you may not really get it. These females have  the same look : thick-rimmed glasses, fat round bindi on their forehead, lots of sindoor, always immaculately clad in a saree, and ready to pick up fights with the drop of a hat. And only God can save you from their wrath should you step on their toes or nudge them in a crowded bus. However, when two such Didis fight with each other (which is very often, believe me), it can make for helluva entertainment.

Mishti Doi, Puchka and Jhal-mudi:
Every time I visited Calcutta, I would hog on these like someone who's returned from Sahara. You would think now that I am in Calcutta, I would stuff myself so much that I would cease to like them anymore. Let's say there is no such thing is too much Puchka or Jhal-mudi or Mishti Doi. Yum!

The Chaap factor:
Now, if you speak to the father of a Bong Class X student (or Class XII or College for that matter), you will know how much chaap his son is under. And that is why, his son needs to be fed by his mom like a toddler and also his father needs to carry an umbrella over his head when he steps out. Unfortunately, the chaap factor never goes away. You talk to the GM Finance of a reputed company, and you know that your proposal is taking ages to get cleared because the GM is under so much chaap. This net net means that you can also boast of all the chaap that you carry on your shoulders, shirk work and be happy!

Crib-Post # 1

This is not to say that I don't crib in my other posts. But cribbing is never the focus and only a by-product.
So I thought of starting this series where I could crib with a focussed approach and complete, undivided attention. So, yeah, here we are:

I have always wondered at how bad I am with roads and directions. I mean you can't even imagine how exactly bad. If the directions involve anything but a straight line, I am bound to get lost. This holds true even if I have been to the place frigging 'n' number of times. It gets quite embarrassing at times, but I got to face the shit if there's a problem with me!

And worst part of the deal is when you get into a taxi and tell the cabbie to take you to a certain place and the cabbie asks you which road should he take. Since you are this God's gift to mankind otherwise (except for this small flaw of being bad with directions), you decide to act smart and tell the cabbie to take the road that would take you faster to the destination. In 9 instances out of 10, I can make out a smirk on the driver's face which reads 'Aaj accha murga fansa hai, lemme take the longer route!'

Then there would be friends and relatives who are visiting your city and who assume that you are a free tourist-guide. They would repeatedly call you for directions and random questions about how to reach a certain restaurant / monument from some godforsaken place they were stuck at. Needless to say, you are in for a lot of taanas should you tell them you don't know the way.

Sigh. Life sucks.

And my heart makes a secret wish

The problem with our generation is that we grew up watching Chopra-Barjatya-Johar movies. So we get senti about almost anything in this world. So yeah, I was senti when I was leaving Calcutta for IIMB... and I was super-senti when leaving Bangalore for good. And this blog has indeed seen those maudlin posts from my keyboard.

But this time, it was different.

Maybe because I was coming back home to familiarity. Or maybe because being the cribber that I am, I could see only flaws in the city which so many others would swear by. I never liked Bombay and I have no qualms admitting that. So when people around would ask me 'Wouldn't you miss Bombay?', somehow I could never get myself to say 'Yes, I will'.

But it was in the last few weeks of my stay in the city of dreams that I finally started getting that familiar old sinking feeling. And I didn't really know why. My friends had taken it upon themselves to make sure that these weeks form a memorable part of my stay in Bombay. And they did - making me aware of all the things I will miss about Bombay. So when I took one last look at Bombay through the clouds after the plane had taken-off... I found my heart making a secret wish.

So yeah a new beginning. Once again.

Coming Soon in a theater near you

Office Chainsaw Massacre

This will not really be a film but a documentary of sorts which will capture real-life events on camera. The anti-hero in the movie would be a masked 26 year old (with  really really terrifying looks) who enters an office in broad-daylight and brutally murders a few pre-identified fugly individuals using his chainsaw. The movie is instant block-buster material and has the potential to spawn multiple sequels (you guys are welcome to send in suggestions for locations... and can act as the anti-hero in the sequels should you exude the much needed awe)

Chal Sanyasi Mandir mein

  

No this post is not about Bollywood. But yes, we do learn lessons from Bollywood. That goodness always wins in the end. That you cannot break away from your roots - that the Sanyasi has to eventually return to the Mandir.

And yes, I never thought I will find myself saying this, but I will, indeed, miss Bombay. And in particular, I will miss:

- The amazingly overcrowded local trains: I guess my body will take some time to adjust to the lack of full-body massage that I get twice everyday here. I will miss the squabbles, the rush and the push, the madness and well, the madness.

- The tapori lingo: I fear that I might just hug the autowallah in Calcutta out of affection if he addresses me as 'aap'. No, Sir, don't you think that I am being paranoid here because this is after 3 years of being subject to 'tereko kidhar utaroon mein?'

- The Mahangai: Being an aam aadmi, I am very concerned about how much I have been shelling out of my pocket for bare necessities of life. Calcutta would see some more money, hopefully, in my Bank account. Hopefully. 

- The Works: Ah, well, I know I have been bitching about my job so much already. So, I need not go down that road again. I will really really miss being treated like a rotten piece of shit. Okay okay I stop right here!

But is there something that I will not miss? The bestest friends that I have made and the memories that I will always cherish? Nopes. For I will be carrying them with me :)

But something tells me it ain't over yet. Or is it?

PS: The picture is there only for marketing value, so don't fret over it. 

Happy Ending

You know when they say that Happy Endings happen only in movies... now I wouldn't say that they are totally wrong. But then often, once in a while, just as if God forgot to throw in that random twist of fate, you do end up being happy in the end. And though it is not really the end, but merely a halt, such happy endings are what we all live for.


So yeah I am happy. But then it is not in my nature to feel good and talk good about others. So I shall crib as usual. I just wanted you guys to know .. you know just in case you guys feel that my cribbing lacks quality today, that's only because I'm happy!

So yeah I have been going through a lot of turmoil these days. And it doesn't help when each and every person you meet on the road / office / train / at the chaiwala's / facebook / Gtalk asks you the same question- 'Weren't you supposed to be in Calcutta already?'

Yes, I was supposed to have fled from this godforsaken city long back. In fact, I shouldn't have come here at all in the first place and taken jobs that promise to suck the last drop of blood outta my body. But then since I did come and now have monsters around me who wanna make my life miserable, all I can do is patiently wait. At least now I know that it's just another two weeks of pain.

So yeah, there, yes you, the moron looking at me from across the road - just know that I will be in Calcutta soon. Very soon. And that should wipe that smirk off your face!

Bringing Sexy Back

I don't think I wished you people Happy New Year. I was too busy making plans for my Calcutta escape. Now that that is settled (almost), I am back *dhinchak background music*

A lot happened in Bollywood in 2010. But I want more. Much more. And some more of the old. Here's a list of what I would like to see in 2011:

Mamta Kulkarni: *Background Music: Gupchup gupchup*
Sheila and Munni may have impressed you to no end. But here was someone who could look sleazy without even trying. Whether dancing to lewd item-numbers or romancing Mithun-da, this Bholi-bhali ladki could set the screen on fire effortlessly. If Yana Gupta can make a scandalous come-back, Mamta can do much better. Let's root for MK's comeback. Yay.

Baba Sehgal: *Background Music: Aaja Meri Gadi mein baith ja*
The first pop-star (erm.. rapper?) of India deserves better than been forgotten. While you may remember classics like Dil Dhadke because of Pooja Bedi and not Baba Sehgal, still Baba has many more under his belt like Thanda Thanda Paani. So, we want the best rapist of India (as someone's comment on youtube calls him) to be back. And this time Long drive jayenge, full speed jayenge, kahin rukenge na hum :-P

David Dhawan-Govinda-Karishma Kapoor: *Background Music: Meri pant bhi sexy hai*
I need not tell you why. If you have read even one of my earlier blogs, you would know how much I adore such drama. Senseless, baseless, mad comedies are my thing. And even better if they have lewd, suggestive songs. Pure bliss.

Tum to thehre Pardesi and Desi Remixes: *Background Music: Ila Arun and Usha Uthup fighting*
I mean you didn't grow up in India if you didn't go to school humming that hideous Altaf Raja song and then silently praying that he never sings again (he tried and failed, that's another story). He was the Himessss of those days - every autowala and paan-dukaanwala loved him. He set such standards which years later only Himessss could break. I want him back. Not only because I love tragedies but also because I want Himessss to go.



Rakhi ka Swayamvar Season 2: *Background Music: Episode 1 of Rakhi ka Insaaf*
Ever seen a kid these days watching Pokemon or Doraemon? It is with similar fascination that I watch Rakhi Sawant. I mean even her goddamn serial has its own Wikipedia page! (What's wrong with humankind?). I want season 2 - since she is single and ready-to-mingle again. And I want more masala this time. I want the world to end and I want Udai Chopra to act again. Phew.