This sunset is different from yesterday's...

I’m sad. No, scratch that… I’m nostalgic.

Jaspal Bhatti passed away today. By now I hope he’s making fun of the contractor responsible for the gates of Heaven and/or taking offence at the idea that no one takes offence at divine hypocrisy.

The man was, by himself, an idealistic eccentric who simply couldn’t take things the way they were. But at least as far as I’m concerned, he was also someone emblematic of a better time; a simpler time. A time that had Flop Show, Keshav Kalsi and that tune from the DD evening news that's kinda burnt itself into our collective subconscious as a people. A time where all that really mattered was you getting the window seat on the school bus and being deceptively mean to the person you liked.

So maybe it’s just me, but it seems another chapter in a very good story has ended. 

Now this isn’t your average story. It doesn’t have any of the usual melodrama, the usual action sequences and sadly enough, the usual bedroom sequences. In fact, the only distinctive thing about it is that it’s “our” story.

Like any obscure writer, I look around a lot (It’s what we do, we obscure writers).

And I see a lot I was always intent on missing before…

There are no new wrinkles on my grandparents’ cheeks. And yet I know they’re getting older.

These people have given me my parents. And the most horrible baths a kid can ever hope not to have. They’ve given me 10 bucks a day for everyday I’ve spent at their place, so that I could bake under the sun while waiting to play video games.

Not to mention the most effective dressing down ever for throwing about 24 eggs on the nearest wall after a singularly inspiring Tom and Jerry tape.

I guess right now I’m left wishing that life were somehow less complicated. And that I could again play cricket with everyone in the backyard. You know, God bless his heart, my Grandfather always used to let me have 7 balls in every over I played. : )

There are just so many people who never get to know what they’re loved the way they are. What is worse is that there are just so many people who can’t tell they love the way they do.

My academic life had me in the same place for five and a half years. And suffice to say, I hated every brick of it. Every vocal professor, every nonfunctional water heater… everything.

And today, even after graduating, each visit to the damn place reminds me that these things that have taken a new hue. One I wasn’t particularly convinced existed.

Imagine yourself glad to see people you couldn’t stand to see before just because you saw them every day. Or basking in the sweet aroma of the autoclave room just so that you don’t forget it. Eating food Hell itself declared unsafe just so that you can bitch about it… All of it, someday, years later... over a fireplace that has gone out, and people who’ve only just come in.

Life is a series of random occurrences. But then… so are me and you.

And there is no friggin’ reset button. 

P.s. My grandfather only took 5 balls in every over he played. : )
P.p.s I've been using Jaspal Bhatti's "Hit and Trial Hospital" joke as mine for 10 years now. 9/10 would do it again.

It's really the only way...

Unrequited love. That’s when you love without reciprocation.
Everyone has at least once in their lifetime loved unrequitedly. It may have been that time your eyes repeatedly met hers from across that crowded room. Just before she ran to her Scottish boyfriend, Douchebag McVaddaPhone.
Or it may have been when that dude who was being so nice to you asked for advice on how to talk to your best friend and they had to spend all day extracting your pirated copy of Twilight: Breaking Dawn from his colon. By the way, you have weird taste.

If you're still in doubt, there are some other crude tests. These include the “How did I end on this Facebook page AGAIN?” number; the “Whoops, that message wasn’t for you” index and roughly the number of times you’ve come close to doing borderline inappropriate things to your stuffed toy collection.

It’s also possible you feel like asking rhetorical questions. For example:

• Conventional good looks is all it took? Are you blind to inner beauty or something?
• I’ve sacrificed a head of cabbage. HOW MUCH MORE, God?
• No seriously, do you know how much cabbage goes for?
• Maybe she would’ve understood after the 28th missed call?

But then, I stand by the idea that all great love is unfulfilled. More so considering fulfilled love lends itself to circumstances like deciding who’s going to watch the kids and “What? Paneer? Again?”
So celebrate the very real possibility that you’ll die alone. Or that you'll adopt cats and later find yourself hiding in foliage with binoculars; madly hoping that allergy to pepper spray doesn't come into play.

In either case, know this: You may love without tangible cause and hope of fulfillment. But in doing so, you become a martyr. You rise to the idea that you’re inherently better than those who told themselves “it didn’t matter”. You allow yourself hope where others have plummeted to despair.
Make no mistake, you're fighting for a cause. One that is greater than the safety of satisfaction with the present. One that allows you belief in something that will make the world better. And how many people who don’t have bombs strapped to their chests/are Batman get to claim that?

So don’t give up.
And if you do, there’s always Twitter. I will personally retweet all your emo stuff.

When geeks attack...

Women like it romantic and the like. Apparently it causes their amygdales and limbic systems to cook their frontal cortices in pungent hormonal soup. Simple enough. However, it seems that throughout the course of history I've had to explain the propositions to women after I've made the propositions to said women. True stories:

Scenario 1
She has a four letter name. I convert that to ASCII (the capital), I convert those 8 digits to Binary, I convert that Binary to a 'how many ones and zeroes' number. I further convert that number to hex. This leaves me with 9B7623BBA8F5733E. And a very befuddled young woman who didn't talk to me for the rest of class. The lilac smelling page I wrote this on notwithstanding.

Scenario 2
She likes Shakespeare. Cleopatra to be specific. Or so I can derive from her facebook profile. So I send this to her:
"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale;
Her infinite variety, other women cloy.
-Signed, Salad Days."

And while I understand this sounds like a glorified 'Wanna make frandship?' request, why do people lie about liking Shakespeare?
She hasn't replied yet. But I assume that's due to the vernacular of having called her an old woman.

Scenario 3
I walk up to a girl in the library. Simple enough. Sample the following conversation.

Me: I know you don't like me. But do you like me?
She: Huh?
Me: Stop being dumb. You understand what I mean.
She: How am I supposed to like you? As a friend, or...
Me: You're such a tubelight.
She: (desperately) Do you like Mahatma Gandhi? Here's a nice autobiography.
Me: I get the point (wench).

Scenario 4
I'm proud of this one. Doesn't reek of dysfunction. So I says to her, "You're a vision in red. Poetry has been written for much less." "Really?" "Yes."
Cue burly boyfriend with huge mobile phone. Burly boyfriend says hi. I wish someone would let loose rabid attack dogs. I'd point out that his phone is using ye olde Android 1.6, but I stop... there are women present, after all.

Sigh. Where are the sexy cryptologists and single language experts in LBD's? Life's not fair.

Humanity’s Greatest…

Humanity is da shit™. Once we got off the trees, it was only a matter of time before we made our baboon ancestry's butts turn red with jealous rage. In fact, any monkey still up on the trees may officially consider his n00bish ass pwned, forever.

Speaking of which, I guess we should come up with a "wat does dis button do?" list of our greatest achievements. Something to tell the kids after the nukes wipe out 95% of the population and the rest turn to cannibal zombies.
And it goes without saying that any such list should totally have the following on it.

1. Chhole Bhature

   

   There can be only one. Maybe none.

   Are you friggin' kidding me? God made man, gave him the recipe to Chhole Bhature and then he made woman. Somebody had to do the cooking.
   You put an "order of increasing importance" test on this and lo behold, man is useless as usual and chhole bhature are a close second to the divine power of the woman with the frying pan. All hail the woman with the frying pan.
   
   
2. Internet Porn

   

   Truth is defense for libel.

   Gone are the dark days of waiting for your cable operator to find some VHS tape with the appropriate inappropriate behavior and broadcast it late at night. Billions of roubles have gone into making the internet so that geeks can finally relate to something in the range of vaguely feminine. And yes, it has been a resounding success.
   The only problem remains in inventing/discovering porn for women. I imagine it might have something to do with handsome men shopping at Central Market. All night long. Just the way they like it. Yeah.
   I should really write something about the many things I've learnt from porn soon.
   
   
3. Cable TV
   

   

   Doordarshan broadcast of 1998 Sharjah final. Sachin on strike.

   I remember the days when you had to have 3 people around to watch Doordarshan successfully. One to rotate the antenna, the second to see how the reception was changing on the TV and the third to relay the "Ho Gaya" chants between them.
   Cable TV, of course, changed all that. Instead of watching crap on just 2 TV channels, we now watched crap on about a 100. And then there were the added benefits of the Cable-walle-bhaiya's VHS tape collection.
   
   
4. The Mobile Phone
   She can now choose to ignore your calls from environments as varied as the jungles of South Najafgarh to the deserts of East Jaunpur. From her loo to the local zoo – and it doesn't even have to be different places. It doesn't matter where she is, she can always always ignore your calls. Now that's TECHNOLOGY.
   Of course, if you hear heavy breathing on the other end, please remember that the phone is a one handed device and consult (2) above.
   
   
5. Fashion
   

   

   If Duke Nukem were alive, he'd die and turn
   over in his grave.

   No other animal in the friggin' kingdom has to pay this much to look this ugly. And then it changes and the ugly people look uglier because the ugliest ugly people have decided that another kind of ugliness is the right kind of ugly for this season and the (ugh) "ugla" one.
   Of course, this advancement also includes modern economic theory and political theory, but you have to read between the lines, doofuck.
   
   

There we go. Human civilization in a nutshell. Enough of the education. Now go search for some porn.

Gullible Jackasses…

We're a bunch of gullible jackasses; capable of unfailingly and unflinchingly believing anything at all. I could sit here all day giving you the logic behind such an alarmist line of thought; but that'd defeat the purpose.

So, here come the examples.

1. Feng Shui (Chinese for "overpaid carpenter")
   After years of intense analysis in focus groups comprising half of people with Feng shui approved homes and half of jungle dwelling cannibalistic populations, experts have concluded that:
   "The first group is generally happier, has a higher survival rate after divorce and does not contribute to the extinction of rhinos."
   Of course, your agreement will be more willing when you discover the ancient architect covenant about always incorporating Feng shui into restrooms everywhere. A little pressure on 'your end', and negative energies go bye bye.
   
   
2. If it's on TV…
   If you're on the wrong end of the 'Peepli live' spectrum (bloody brilliant movie btw), you're probably aware of the intense unyielding need to buy one each of a Nazar Suraksha Yantra®, a Shiv Shakti Kavach™ or a Shani Dev approved Doom-bhagao-wolfenstein-lao armour.
   I on the other hand am haughty enough to shake my head in disbelief that such commercials are made, let alone aired on a 24 hour marathon run when they just can't talk about "Naga baba mein ghusa bhoot". Bring back Naga Baba.
   Also, who in the history of FUCK dresses like that to cry in front of random relatives? Don't those females have work to do in the kitchen?
   
   
3. Cinema
   She's not that Savitri-type thingie. She may look like it with the adequate amount of makeup and the inadequate amount of saree, but she isn't. What she is, however, is a repository of sexually transmitted infection. Something you won't be getting off her. Not in a million years. Yes, I understand those may not be tears of happiness.
   Also, a revolver carries "6" bullets. We do not fuck with the law of conservation of mass-energy.
   
   
4. Don't look now…
   But you're too good for him/her. More so because he/she is probably cheating on you anyway. Possibly with the STD actress. And you're not getting any of that. Loser.
   You say your love is true? Read the title of the post. You're in the right place. And you're welcome. Send me interesting porn links.
   
   

There's just so much more to lampoon here. My only qualm is your Attention deficit disorder (compounded by my staunch refusal to use attractive images on this page). So I'm going to stop.
Jackass.

Taking over the world…

Unlike quite a few males my age who grew up watching "Kyunki" soaps (hereby referred to as the "emasculated"), I was weaned on Pinky and the Brain.

This left me with those warm fuzzy feelings and ambitions of world domination and the like. Unfulfilled, but insidious. Like constipation. Only higher.
Just the kind of thing you might want to discuss at a parent teacher meeting before melting the teacher with evil super lasers, btw. But I went to one of those schools not rich enough to afford an MMS caper and therefore, with erratic power supply.
Well, with erratic power supply, anyway.

Even so, I've given taking over the world a lot of thought. It's a relatively simply process if you can find the right underwater layer, slinky women in catsuits to hang at your arm and a really evil last name like Kalmadi.

So here goes… and remember, if someone manages to succeed using this, I want Finland.

1. Religion
   It helps if you're the only thing in range which can get someone to God. Promise 72 or so virgins and watch as your ratings soar. It helps to get a celebrity endorsement by way of a Messiah. I personally recommend Sofia Lauren. But she's an old hag now. Sigh.
   
   
2. The Death Star
   If you're one of the six people who don't know what this is, my condolences on having a real life. Real easy method too. Just blow up a planet or two. Just make sure you don't hire one of them cheapo contractors. They leave open vents everywhere.
   
   
3. Foundations
   Set two up at the opposite ends of the globe. Watch as millennia of anarchy is prevented when civilization falls because Sonam Kapoor learns to act. And as unlikely as that might seem, it pays to have a backup plan.
   
   
4. Monopoly
   Make something everyone wants and nobody has. And while you're at it, think beyond engineering the perfect woman, you sick perv. I had this idea in mind about something I'd call the iPhone. Apple beat me to it, and truth be told I just don't trust the future of the world in Steve Jobs' hands.
   
   
5. Global Viral Attack
   Last ditch effort. And keep in mind you'll probably be stopped by Captain Vyom. Or some other gay idiot in tights.
   

So there you go. World domination made real easy. I'm sure there are other ways. Ask George Dubya Bush. But I doubt you'll ever be the head of a nation as gullible. Much less this one. And we're all pretty intelligent people here in the 3^rd world.
Finally I raise a toast to the emasculated. Why? Because it didn't seem mocking bird enough to mention them just once. So there. In yer face, you sissy pussies.

Mera Bharat Mahan…

Independence day. Some go as far as to prefix "happy" to it. Deluded idiots.

I'm something of an optimist. I will compliment your cooking. I will find your kids beautiful and I will suppress the epileptic attacks your paintings will give me.
However, this day, I find my cup runneth over.

Are we really independent? Look around. The gora people who ruled us have been replaced by some bhoora people who do the exact same thing. "Exaggeration", you will allege wildly. "Unpatriotic", some of you will lament. "Political Conspiracy", the rest will blunder. But fear not, vile countrymen… Here's how it is. For the goras that were and the bhooras that are:

1. Similar modus operandi.
   Claiming it's for our own bleeding good. And then doing whatever the hell it is that they're going to do anyway.
   
   
2. No real choice of government.
   As it was, you either liked the goras or were dragged in open grounds by steroidally enhanced horses. These days, you can vote for whoever you like. (That's either the Congress or the other Racist communal bastards who won't be happy without another dark age). Chances are coalition politics will make a puree of all ideologies and encourage the path of least resistance. Which, incidentally, is point 3.
   
   
3. Corruption.
   Try getting yourself anything you're entitled to be getting without having to pay someone. If you can, please leave your locality in the comments. I'm moving there.
   My history is a little weak, but I do remember all those fucking rajas and ranis allying themselves with the devil just so that they could get their "royal" due. Honor is on sale. If you have the money to buy it, of course.
   
   
4. The people suffer
   That part is self explanatory. Look at how unhappy you are. I would stay here and calm you down, but I have to go encourage the next revolution.
   The government looks the other way when those it needs do whatever the hell it is that they want to. It nigh encourages them as long as the benefit is there.
   

There you go. 63 years of "independence". Not for the weak of heart.