Enter your email address:

saddi dilli - the 'crap'ital of india

SOMEBODY'S in a mood to bitch today. So kindly bear with me.

Stumbled upon some news article a couple of days back, which renewed my revulsion for our nation's 'crap'ital - Delhi. First the positives. Delhi is a beautiful place, with mostly great roads, oodles of heritage, decent hangout places, a rocking nightlife and kick-ass food joints - catering to tastebuds craving food from Lebanese to Italian to Punjabi to Chinese.

But what makes it extremely unattractive (for the want of a lesser demeaning synonym), is its people. They are all the same (ok, not all, there are some really endearing gems in this coal mine). Self-centered to the core, they find pleasure out of other's miseries, and love to talk more with their fists than their mouths. What pisses me off the most though, is their callous attitude towards human life. And no, it's not that I find their way of life too overwhelming for a small town (sorry, city) hick like me.

Agreed, incidents like the one you are going to read happen everywhere. But not at the frequency at which it happens here. A woman, whether she's 9 or 90 years old is under constant danger of getting raped at even 9 in the morning, for crying out loud!

Anyway, here's the article that brought on this random spurt of indignation.

drinking analogy at its best!

Ever wondered why you puke bucketloads after mixing a drink too many? Well, wonder no further. Let Jim Breuer show you the the most funny-assed analogy on what happens inside your stomach when you mix drinks. And oh... cheers mates! ;)

onegina? no thank you!

It's the marriage season again... and it's raining brides and grooms. As much as I like the overall concept of what weddings stand for - free meals, drinks, catching up with the old friends and flirting with the cute ones, while some shaadi ka drama goes on in the background, it gets REALLY annoying when some old fart tries coaxing you into being the bakara who provides the next free meal and booze opportunity, i.e., they are always on the mission to get you hitched! Bha!

What IS it with their eternal desire to play matchmaker? I suppose it's ingrained into their DNA, like how men just know where to put their peewees during mating, or dogs digging up earth to bury their bones. Whatever it may be, hell no way am I ready for commitment yet! And why marriage? Can't they help hook me up with someone for, let's just say, a very short term commitment. I never see them intro'ing me to some cutie saying - "Come here *******! Meet Alok. He's good for a couple of rolls in the hay!" Or, "Come here girls. Why don't you take Alok and show him a good time?" Like I said, "Bha!"

(Sir) Russell Peter's, when imparting his views on the holy matrimony, once said (loosely recreated), "You know why I don't want to get married? It's because I love WOMEN too much. If I were to get married, I'd just love WOMAN. And I'm not ready for that. Moreover, I don't want to get the committed man's disease... Onegina!"

And a big amen to that!

an insomniac's guide to a good night's (un)rest

I guess it just runs in our genes.

What runs in our genes you may ask. And I'd reply – "Insomnia". Like my mother, I'm an insomniac too. And like I mentioned, I guess it just runs in our genes.

Through the dark and through the moonlit years that we both stayed awake, it got boring to just walk around the house aimlessly, eating and drinking anything we could lay our hands on. So without hope or agenda, one fateful night I decided it was time to move on. Parting with mom on good terms, I compiled my Top-10 List (inspired by High Fidelity) of schadenfreude ways to keep myself entertained through the long, boring nights. Ok, so I was lying - there was a hope and agenda. But on the brighter side, I haven't had a boring night since.

I must warn you, though some of these are tried and tested, and some I intend to do some day (or night), most of them are downright childish. But hey! Why not? When CAN you bring out the kid in you, than when you are alone. Or more truthfully, when you know you can't get caught doing it. Muhahaha! Written in no definite order, most of these are written keeping in mind I stay in an apartment complex, where the opportunity to have juvenile terror rein throughout the night is magnified plentifold.

Anyway, let's get down to business now.

1. If the apartment doors have a deadbolts like mine do, bolt ALL of them from the outside.

2. If you are the more excitement-seeking types, here's an extension to the above idea. Bolt all the doors, and start ringing their doorbells one by one, working your way down from the top floor. (I don't think it's necessary to tell you of the dangers of doing it the other way round and getting yourself cornered on the terrace...)

3. Use your imagination and stick chewing gum at the most undesirable places your brains can conjour.

4. Make yourself useful by stealing light bulbs from around the place and selling them the next day to fuel your alcohol/cig/drugs dependency, if you have any.

5. Go stand at your balcony, or better, on the terrace, and patiently wait for an auto to drive by (you have nothing better to do anyway!). Once you see one, scream for it and duck! Make sure you position yourself so you can safely see the poor confused soul search around for his late night sawari. And make sure you pack a substantial midnight snack, for you could be out for a while.

6. This one takes a lot of balls and fast legs. Go bump every car (apply pressure on their bonnets) in your complex to activate their annoying alarms. And RUN! You can do one car every couple of minutes, or if you're really pumped-up with adrenaline, do at least 5, one after another, at different parts of the apartment.

7. Lob onion bombs into balconies (preferably ones attached to bedrooms) and watch fear grip the hearts of the house's occupants.

8. Find your victim, and burn sulfur underneath his door's gap. Ahhh... the joy of seeing him gag under its spell is unexplainable.

9. This one's my all time favourite; did it twice already. Have a quiet drinking session with friends, and collect all the empty bottles. Make sure your night watchman doesn't see you carrying the booze in. Once he sleeps (which they all inevitably do), surround his chair with all the bottles. And watch the fun next morning when the early morning walkers see him!

10. And lastly, buy some paint (preferably a colour closest to the one your house numbers over the door are painted with). Once it's silent night, unholy night, go repaint the door numbers in any random order. And if you have those brass digits stuck on the doors like how I do, just work them loose with a knife and again stick them around in any random fashion with some super glue.

If you think you have some more sinful, devious or morally questionable stunts I'd like to try out, feel free to give me a shout.

this side, that side...

Saw the Tata Sky ad yesterday, again; the one that talked about how Tata Sky families stay together, have fun together, take a shit together and all that rubbish. It jogged my memory about an incident that took place in my family, and of which I sadly was a witness to...

You know how when people stay together for a long time, they not only start looking like each other, but start imitating each other's mannerisms too? Well, I just realized that my 'nuclear-joint' family took this one too many steps further.

Many, many moons ago, I overheard one sister talking to two other siblings. And believe you me, this is EXACTLY what she said - "When you go this side-that side, go there and get me that thing." What traumatized me even more, was the fact that the other two actually understood her!

I am quite aware of the many advantages of living in a joint family - support, security, surety, strength, family money and inbreeding (just kidding!), but the amount of familiarity it breeds is not happening one bit. When you know everyone around you so well, it causes some sort of 'breakdown' in basic communication me concludes. Breakdown in the sense that it dilutes the individuality usually found in a person's speech pattern. And makes communication as characterless a task as channel surfing, flipping through mail, or even digging your nose... SIGH!
My point-to-prove in short - Familiarity in communication just takes the bloody fun out of 'real' talking!

I'm off to the mountains very soon, to pray (with all my heart) for the future of joint families like mine.

A bunch of beer

Awarded by
Nivedita Doel to ALOK YEPURI

a new 'mac ki laudi' in my life!

I’m a thoroughbred 'Mac ka Lauda', i.e., a devot Apple (hallowed be its name) fanatic. And influenced by my undying love, mixed with a mild dab of wannabeism for everything Apple, it didn’t take long for the girlfriend to want a bite of the sinful fruit too. So she made a call to the brother in Amreeka, asked him for a macbook and Time Capsule, and whoopee, today became an official Mac ki Laudi!

So what sets us Mac ka Laudas and Laudies apart from the regular run-of-the-mill vendors? Well, other than the usual faff like the snob value attached to Apple’s eye candies, their top-notch quality, blazing fast performance, eye for detail, ease-of-use interface, the fabulous and user-friendly stuff they churn out every cycle, yada yada, it’s probably our ingrained ability to overlook (or turn a blind eye to) all of Apple’s minute flaws, just because, well, it’s an Apple!

Like the little detail I forgot to mention to her about the Time Capsule. It’s famous for dropping signal, very often, when a wireless back-up’s going on. And with no rollback option, there is a chance of data getting lost. Haha. And for people with a sadistic streak like me, THAT will be a riot to witness.

Oh Shit. I’m SO dead!