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| One Life, One Love |
| Friday, March 30, 2007 |
I could just feel the milieu of soft hairs above my lips, sign that the innocence is on a downhill. Adam’s Apple was still due though.
I had just seen “Dil”. I remember all the half dozen movies I have seen in theatre before my Engineering college.” Ram Teri ganaga maili, Saheb,Dalaal,Ajooba,Gulam-e-mustafa,Jurrasic Park” in that order specifically.
I saw “Dil” on rented VCP(courtesy my tenant). Well, now the “Dil” impact. I instantly fell in love with that beautiful lasso—Madhuri Dixit. But, better rationale prevailed and I started to look on for substitution that fits in well with my stature. I have been compromising and pragmatic since childhood. You will know why.
Swati was my classmate. She was not fair, not pretty but after Dil I found her resembling with Madhuri. Someone very generous (which I grew then)could not find her charming. I made it a point to think about her long eyelids which reminds of the cartoon character “Wabby” of Duck tales. I started enjoying the attention of other guys, their jeers when they used to tease me with her name.
I am now amused but then, jealous to know that lots of other guys were also going through this traumatic phase of whispering adolescence and that girl was almost a princess in the group. They didn’t but every other guy wanted to impress her with loud jokes, getting highest scores in spelling tests. I went a step ahead and learnt quite a number of words ending with “y” and starting with
“y”. Wondering why?? We used to have word debates every weekend (even in weekdays when attendance is low in the school due to rains).Didn’t I love to be amongst seniors and juniors. Even in my engineering college, girls in senior and junior batches always looked prettier.
And I always threw them in jeopardy by ending my words with “y” and they pondered with peevish smile Why “Y” again. Everything is fair in debate and love.
My school was small and Guru-shishya Parampara was the fundamental motto. It was almost mandatory to be present on all the occasions viz. Independence Day, Diwali, Saraswati Puja,etc. We guys were very happy that Raksha bandhan has been a Holiday .But the next Day when I deliberately didn’t remove my sis’s Rakhi from my wrist, I was making a point that I am happy with my sisters and have no intentions to discover more. But that callous girl didn’t bestow any ruth and on that cruel Lunch period we were christened Sis and Bro.
I had just seen promos of “DDLJ”(movie responsible for lot of contemporary guys to fall in love).And I have started liking her maturity. She is so emotional, understanding, elderly, caring and at the same time so endearing. Yes, Kajol was my new love. Hey, cm’n I have grown quite big now, so I needed mature girl. As usual search
started for a correct substitute.
Rakhi was my senior. Not old ok! Just one year senior and I started schooling late, you see .So, there was never an issue. Being Kishore Da’s Songs fan I knew Age does not matter. Even if it does, there is not much difference.
She was to appear at Boards and I was in 9th. I made it a point to let her know that the school’s most eligible guy(Now, that’s what I call as self-appraisal) is fond of her. To get this guy, the Parampara can be staked. Hey guys, wasn’t she impressed and blushed to know it. But, cruel fate was never going to see my face smiling. She passed 10th and went away to Muzzafarpur.(Town you can reach crossing Ganga from Patna).Inspired by DDLJ I tried my Best to catch the bus to Muzzafarpur and bring her back to my life. But, My father is in no weird way DDLJ’s Anupam kher. I grew sad and I could do nothing.
Now, now, I dint see any movie, ok!. But I saw thunderbolt.
Coaching for IIT is mandatory in my part of world. My days were screwed up by the itinerary of coaching classes. I abhorred coz I knew I can’t. But , That coaching made it possible for me to have experience of my lifetime. My classes started at 3.30p.m and I always got out from home at 1.15.I wanted to see her, I wanted to feel that heavy load of emotional rush when I saw her first time. I wanted that gulp of dry air which I swallowed first time when my eyes met hers.
1.30pm : Time Notre dame Academy’s final bell rings.
I always waited with baited breath to see those buses and Red skirted girls and with every passing moment died with the premonition of her flash. At times I succeeded, sometimes failed. Well, I won’t stretch on that part of the story because I simply don’t want. I came to get confirmed about her name only recently, some 6 years after the first encounter. She was “Priya”(fake,fake,fake!!!!). Fine, agreed, I don’t have courage to write her name.
Life moves on. We didn’t have any connection whatsoever and I was too shy. I thought to take this in stride and hoped I will fall in love with next generations of actresses-- Karishmas, karenas, tabus”… Not to be…
I wont admit that the story ended .But ,I can admit we are not together, we were never together, we never had any dialogues, Hey, wait …I had twice ---
Once over phone… (Was I speaking ,?nopes,, she was speaking(I said I am geneous ? ,she was blasting to be honest)
Next time for 10 seconds,, and it was like Man proposes and God disposes. ?
How can I forget, we had a few mail exchanged too…!!! (Stop this non sense..Dont get carried away Dheeraj.Enough..!!!)
Hey, she also had called me thrice.. Once ,night before 1st semester exams… (stop!!!!Will you??)
Ok.
This love is journey and man, I believe I enjoy the moments still, I still …(hopeless)
One life, one love. Rest all other are manipulated to be love..crafted into love,,or compromised love…
--- By DheerajLabels: pensive |
posted by Dheeraj @ 1:49 AM   |
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| Zindagi hai choti ,har pal me Khush reho.. |
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Office me khush reho,ghar me khush reho
Zindagi hai choti ,har pal me Khush reho
Aaj murgii nahi hai, paneer me hi khush reho…
Mantri pit gayar agar, wajeer me hi khush reho
Aaj gym jane ka samay nahi, Kaam me hi khush reho..
Aur kabhi kaam hi na ho to vyayaam me hi khush reho
Aaj Dosto ka sath nahi, Tv dekh ke hi khush reho
Ghar ja nahi sakte to phone ker ke hi khush reho
Sehwag ka shatak Door hai,1 darzan me hi khush reho
Aaj Cable kharab hai,Doordarshan me hi khush reho
Aaj GF gussa hai, uske is andaz me bhi khush reho
Jisse dekh nahi sakte uski awaz me hi khush reho
IAF pilot banne ka socha tha, video game me hi khush reho,
Dawood to pakda nahi,fir Abu salem me hi khush reho
Khushiyo ka intezar kyo,
Gum me bhi khush reho
Laptop na mila to kya , Desktop me hi khush reho
Haste haste ye pal bitaenge,bita hua kal dukhi tha--
To kya hua, aane wale kal me khush reho
ek to zindagi hai,malal rekh ke kya kerenge,
ek zindagi, wo bhi chothi,har pal me khush reho
DheerajLabels: Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 1:41 AM |
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| My Daddy Strongest |
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He pulls my pullover early morning..
When I am hypnotized by the glory of sleep
I pity myself when, so early, morning creeps…
He switches off the fan…
When the heat is gaining its might
He unplugs my ALL OUT..
When mosquitoes are starved whole night
He keeps pestering me in background
When I fly my kite
I feel so independent
When he is not in my sight
He speaks aloud about my mistakes
He makes me embarrass
He plaints to mom
Who later consoles and caress
He is angered by cable TV, my hairstyle..
About my Star and HBO and my choice
He gets disgusted when
Neighborhood bookworm recites his science book like literature ,,,
on top of his voice.
He feels jealous of colleagues whose
sons are in IIT
coz’ I even couldnot clear its PT
He scolds me when I takeaway his bike..
He wants me to sit in my room
Become thick glassed man, perhaps..
I am not good son, I assume…
He reprimands
When he sees my room in mayhem
He feels my friends are spoiling me
Strange!! I always felt guilty that i spoilt them.
I know he loves me,,,,
He cries if sees me in pain…
He seems so callous,
coz he wants me at the crest…
I know..MY DADDY is STRONGESTTTT
~dady's KEWWWL Son
DheerajLabels: Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:08 AM |
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| Autobiography| Window Seat |
| Tuesday, March 27, 2007 |
I am the favorite, sweetheart of everyone.
The lonely passengers cherish my lap, providing them the window of a world large company. Children fight for my possession, gotta catch the Bhoot tonight running along the track and showing the torch. Old ones like the support of the adjacent wall of the trains, support that is unconditional and rare. Young folks find me very sporting. They can shout over to the by passers, can find people in some really interesting activities. They can wave hands to the damsels driving on the along side highway, even whistle to the working women on the fields. Children feel elated to see me and my owner.
I can showcase the real country from the sideline. I provide the platform to see culture without a fuss. You can see it so close, real close.
But truly said, good things don’t come easily .Let me narrate one day’s story. However this is my life on almost all days.
The day I took birth ….. I was born robust and responsible. I was given birth for a mission of goodwill, making it possible for souls to meet, bringing exultations from the longings of friends, keeping alive the warmth of relations, Making new relations and stand testimony to the enriching diversity and ironic integration.
I am born half color blind. I have been accustomed to acknowledge a very few colors. Red and green and yellow…Life is colorful with these only.
Oh, I always get drowned in my reminiscence. I was pretty once.
To my story now, so, it was my first journey. I thought it’s a festival or something, or are people celebrating the birth of their messiah? Expectations amplify disappointment.
There was so much rush that day. I was enthralled to find out I have such a big fan following. It must be some festival I reassured. I was ready to take up anything that day. It really is a pleasure to make dreams possible. I was there ready to caress the iron beneath my claws. Green, I always knew what it meant. I shrieked excitedly --- and embarked on my journey. Response was overwhelming. I am considered the best. It was a lean, high chinned, hollow -eyed young man in traditional belbotts and long collared shirt, dirty on the wrist and on the back. It was a sign of chivalry, he had fought for me. I need to serve him well now. He deserved me.
I am passenger train. seat No 41 and I am the vantage point in this cube. The wrist got dirty in the pushes and hullabaloo occurred during catching the train and more importantly grabbing me. I loved him. As I went faster, the boiling and ebullient atmosphere slowly descended into a calm pregnant one.
At the embark, when people started to ambush me I thought I wont be able to accommodate them all, But strangely enough everyone was comfortably placed within an hour’s journey .My owner was real garrulous. After the engine and whistle, it was him who was heard by everyone .He spread the local newspaper he was just devouring a little while ago. The pulp quality was pathetic but it had served its purpose and rady for its other utility to contain Puri bhujia.
It had already equipped my owner with abundance of knowledge making sure the co-passengers don’t doze out of boredom. He had found some supporters mumbling sweet exhortations, encouragerers like,, ”Acha” “Ha ha –bilkula sahi”….”mee pan aikala aahe”(I have heard too).
Few who preferred to sleep in the rhythmic harmonic of the engine went on top of me grabbing 43 number who was already suffocating with garbage filled sacks, stinking kerosene tanks and rodent infected Toshaks .
My excitement was short-lived. I saw RED.—Stop! It was a small station with more vendors than the passengers. I provided a lucid way of entrance and exit ,a bicapsular pathway specially when the usual path is like negotiating a military training drill-Perfect execution and No causality.
I saw samoshas, idlis, bananas,tea, coffee inflowing from the window and spreading far fetched nook of the cabin. Well, thanks for a green and red chatni ,Master.!!! Now a little warm bath too,,,Tea time—splash!!!! Before the argument whether it was vendor’s or passenger’s fault escalated, I saw Green and was in no mood to bear more atrocities. Thanks goodness, not much harm done.
It was all my owner till the next incident happened. In the meantime, my owner, I was unsure what his name was ”Boss” Bhaiya””sir””Aye””Ustad””Miya”..whatever , I and neighbours were all ears for his eloquence. He seemed to be scholar of sociology, economics, politics,- a perfect treat for little brain people.
He was criticizing the government and showering flakes of mungfali on me as if showering flowers on a wedding couple. No, signore I don’t really love you now. More now, when he was spitting tobacco on my newly led window. Sob sob!!
The worse was yet to come. I was jolted by a thunderbolt. THUD THUD…The adolescents on the road side pelted stone on me. I got hurt badly .But I saved my owner. He was no longer interested in seeing the nature’s wonder now.
Engine didn’t stop, we are born dumb, learnt only a few things, ready, start and hault. No matter, if Its day, night, over crowded, empty.
My destination was near. I was again the old turbulent cube ready to burst open. The déjà vu engrossed me, the way I started—ya, exactly the same. People started getting down before engine stopped. I was confused if had over-ran. But no intelligence please, it’s still yellow. I will stop on Red that is what been hard coded into me. I was left tattered, disheveled, ambushed. Now, looking at myself, I tried to believe that I am pretty. There was lull inside cube now, futile though. I have to run again without respite. Whistle broke my siesta, telling me to forget the pain and get ready for the service again.
I am seat no.41 ,,I got to know again. This time an old man, dhoti kurta, untidy, even he had fought for me..
Everyone loves me but no one cares.
Oh please no sentiment, no intelligence, only selfless diligence.
Green is on I shall leave.
SEE YA
A Window passenger himself
DheerajLabels: pensive |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 2:55 AM |
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| I knew they are related to IT |
| Monday, March 26, 2007 |
Last Time I saw people,
Specifically remembering to keep chargers in their kit
I knew they relate to IT
Last time I saw people,
Consuming fag before they were lit
I knew they relate to IT
Last time I saw Mobile Bills soaring exponentially
I knew they relate to IT
As if wanted to sanctify their sins
I saw people taking up social activities vocationally
I knew they are related to IT
Last time I saw people using jargons everywhere without fuss
I knew they are related to IT
Last time I saw people optimizing their time
Be it reading in bathroom or in Bus
I knew they are related to IT
Last Time I saw people joining an organization
With a motive to quit at earliest
I knew they are related to IT
Last time I saw people shouting,
getting nostalgic About College days being the best
I knew they are related to IT
Last time I saw Bellies grow
Last time I saw people drinking more OH than H2O
I knew they are related to IT
Last time I saw people go blind over Brand Tags,beer can!!
Last time I saw man more in love with sleep than woman
I knew they are related to IT
~DheerajLabels: Office Travails |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 2:19 AM |
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| I quit |
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“I quit”- A foolish fan
Fans who never stop being stupid time and again, fans who believe more on pattern matching from year 1981 and 20005 and making analogies to show world how India can win. Fans who start Havaans,Pujas, astrologies to think that its there time now. Concocting already concocted Nostradamus and believing Daruwala just to make sure they remain happy with the utopian imagery of India bringing back the world cup.
Fans who vandalize their till-last-night- hero home after one poor dismissal. Fans who treat the same player like a out of world superhero, batsman with Batman like prowess. Fans who are known to be most religious fraternity starts worshipping a normal human being with more failures than success as a GOD.
I dare to say we can’t see, realize and most importantly accept stark naked reality on grounds.
A team doesn’t win because it has a God, a batman,a Wall,Turbanotor,Jumbo – a team wins because of 11 players on the field who are good enough and majority of them achieve their goodness on the field most of the days.
Wake up and stop treating the game a way to satiate your emotional ebullience. Stop stopping your lives for cricket. Stop breaking TV screens, stop taking false leave on cricket days, stop discussing about it, cribbing about it.
Time and again we start treating the game larger than life. It is not. A nation’s pride is not trivial to be tagged with a bunch of players who are no more than ‘Quite Good’.
Expectations have always been set incorrectly. Particulary when it comes to Indian cricket team.
I am disappointed, hurt, dejected like millions of Indian cricket fans around the globe and the defeat should be lesson to all of us not to allow the game to impact our lifestyle.
Being an avid Indian cricket fan and a “typically one of those” kind I know there are still hopes lurking around that Bermuda beats Bangladesh and Indian sneaks through the falling shutter.
After all, didn’t we always believe in doing things the other way?? Honing the art of optimism at heart and garroting rationalism in actions.
They don’t have hunger , poor body language, wrong batting order , Irfan in place of Agarkar.
C’mon guys give it a break now. Indian cricket team is a group of overtly over rated team and met its fate.Simple and straight, no other reason-
neither commercials, nor hairs, neither what they ate last night ,nor coz they didn’t have proper bathrooms to relax, neither it’s true that they didn’t want to win, or they experimented too much.
Shal we now allow speculations and discussions to end.huh?
~DheerajLabels: pensive |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 2:05 AM |
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| Firing Bai!!!- A day after |
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Parameshwar: His First day at work!
Software laborer of the ill-fated company took up the mantle to walk Parameshwar through his job description. He did a good job in making him believe that he will be getting more than what he deserves citing examples of what his previous counterparts were getting, comparing his job to his recruiter with stats and live examples. He is improved in just one day!!!
Each time I have to type or utter those 11 letter name, I vow to baptize him with shorter name.“Pam”? This was the first name that glittered— Pamela Anderson will sue me. Simply can’t name this mal-nutritioned chap to our endowed Pam.Let’s name him “Pummy”!
Bingo--- That’s suited for Indian mentality and our MTI.
Firing Bai in an unpleasant fashion can be dangerous.First, she knows ins and outs of you home. Secondly for working bachelors like us who are not sure of themselves where they gonna spend their nights, we are left with no choice but to hand over a copy of keys to her.
8:15 p.m: Enter the dragon
Knock at the door. Like an fresher full of zeal and fire to prove his mettle , Pummy jumped to the gate from his awkward sitting posture that remind me of animals ready to manure soil.(Oh shit!!) and opened the door with an authority of house keeper. His preeceder was standing tall (fat?) of her.
In her typical ear drum hammering pitch- she started complaining about the injustice done to her.“I should have been given prior notice period, now I am deprived of my share of work”. Communism at his best.I know why they ask for notice period. Just imagine the kind of attitude she would have carried once apprised that she would be quitting this ugly job soon.
And there he was standing in front of her eyes. Pam-- Sad, solitary, sapped off energy looking haplessly the giant barking at us.
Well, I with all grace in the world ask her to calm down and promised compensation terms of reduced work but still same salary.And most importantly, delivery right that moment. Money speaks in volumes, weighs in tones. Deal settled. She promised to send a Patliwali bai to return the keys to us.
Woes of Pummy:
We are group of working bachelors with added responsibility of college buddy who doldrums between MBA aspirations and job hunts.
This is just a clichéd way to say he is doing nothing. Pummy shakes us at 8:15 am separating awkwardly intertwined bodies of me and my great job-horse friend.
Looking at the mobile-(When did I last used watch to watch time?), I thanked him for the cup of tea and waking me up for office.But there goes the mighty legs of my horse uttering sentences decorated with curses, emanating from genuinely hurt soul decimating last glass we owned by the courtesy of Blendor’s Pride Special FULL offer. The end to another memoiré!!!
“What the heck? I don’t go to office ok!!! Don’t wake me up at your will.
When I ask-- serve me Tea” Ok?”
For the full day, Pummy was not so happy. He and my horse in the flat.
Pummy coming from a village in Bihar and stepping his first foot near CUMSUM had dreams in his eyes—to see Buzzing crowds, Skirt lad girls, high rising building and life full of merried crowds around.
Not to be—We have our habitat in WHISTLING PALMS’ with a marriage hall in right and ‘GRAVEYARD’ at left. That’s perfect match. ?Slowly Pummy will know life in fast lane is not as simple and illustrious as it might seem from distant village of Bihar.
~DheerajLabels: Funny Sides of Events, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 1:13 AM |
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| Firing Bai!! |
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Ppl—
Yesterday was a tough day in my life. I needed to fire my Bai.
My mama is all ears when I tell her about Bai. No, no not just because she is really worried about my eating habits and knows I am insatiable unless I devour a dozen rotis by mama’s grace, she worries about her age and looks too. ?
Add to it something else, Bai is not a very respectable word in my part of world but slowly and surely I have made her believe so.
Because being far from home’s luxury this is the entity who let us cherish the few-good-free moments otherwise fated for waste in washing clothes, arranging ration or the better part of being bachelors.. Who will do what!!!
You see cleaning utensils is one helluva job particularly when everyone around you are hardcore Non-Vegetarians . The room looks like perfect destination for bone collectors and a still from the Sam Raimi’s Evil dead.
After small riddle as to who will the brave soul to look into those beguile eyes and say those beautiful words to the BAI, My friend picked out the just-dried white short from the laundry bag:“GOD damn, Is this cleaned ? Look at the hand cuff.
This was cleaner before it was ostensibly cleaned by BAI.”
Holy shit!! This is not the way to fire someone. Software laborer of an ill-fated company!!! I cursed. This guy has to remain a developer (of ??#$%) all through life.
Here goes me:“You have done a terrific job Bai” .
"We appreciate all the hard work and effort you put in daily to clear up the mess we create for you - the wine bottles which supplements itself with broken glasses, the mud- rice that we leave in the plates and leave the onus on you to dispose off”
Pause…Pause …“But all good things have to come to an end.” Vomit it now.
“We no longer require your services. I am sure you will find a suitable job soon matching your profile and expectation. I, myself ,no!!, we will be vigilant for it ourselves.”
Me and my manager goes along well!!
Why did we fire?
New developnments:
We have been blessed with a 24-hour service boy right from our core motherland. Placement done by a his fellow counterpart who is well established with reputed family of bachelors, serving him wine when out with alcohol punches, Rs 2000(Sheer saving No tax)), a nice marbled flat and share of food they have.
This guy has to ask for the universal law of brokerage. Let’s see, Not yet final.
Name of the new guy: Parameshwar .I swear name has not been changed for anonymity. Baptism with new shorter name soon!!!
Old Proceedings:
Some truth about Bais:
1) There is life beyond the apparently visible squalor, underneath the cots that completes the entity called as FLOOR. Please be equally generous to them as well while massacring BROOM.
2) Never show her the washing brush. She will test all the Brands tags stitched inside the collar with her Prowess.
3) There are 2 types of BAIs:
Moti wali: She is the Boss. No matter what you demand, she does the things third way. No right no wrong but Her way.
Patli wali: She is one naïve, gullible kind hearted, woman suffering from acute dumbness. She is harcoded. You need to re-wire the configuration each day to accomplish different tasks at different times.
Long Live Bais
~DheerajLabels: Funny Sides of Events, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 1:10 AM |
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| Jaam |
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Daudo bhaago, pahucho ghar
Ho gayee ab shaam hai
Gide, pade, ki truck ke niche?
Mere malik raam hai.
Jaam hai jaam hai,
Hinjewadi se nal stop sab jam hai!!
Asthma bhi ho jayega,Abhi kewal sardi jukam hai
Kapdko ka kya kahe samjho--
Jai siyaraam hai
Jaam hai jaam hai,
Hinjewadi se nal stop sab jam hai!!
Traffic signal fail hai,
Traffic Police naakaam hai.
Sadak hai mere bhai --
Ki Ye dhool ki dukaan hai.
Jaam hai jaam hai,
Hinjewadi se nal stop sab jam hai!!
Computer se sad foda,
Code fixing me bhi nakaam hai,
Onsite ki raah nahi
Waha bhi chakka jam hai.
Jaam hai jaam hai,
Hinjewadi se nal stop sab jam hai!!
Divider pe bhi gaddi koodi,
Idhar se car , bagal se scooti!!
Footpath ka kutta jaaga--
Saala nind bhi haraam hai
Jaam hai jaam hai,
Hinjewadi se nal stop sab jam hai!!
~ Happy Driving
DheerajLabels: Poems, Supposed to be cheap Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 1:06 AM |
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| Shortage |
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I look around myself and find it amusing,
When I have the food plate in hand
but find everyone seating
“Not again” , I moan--
I ask teammates “Let’s discuss at my Desk”,
When I look for conf rooms for meeting
It takes 22-US dollars when take the lunch
And look at the caterers and that ever-eluding spoon bunch
Signboards I am used to read at--
“Sauna bath and steam chambers will remain close,there is a power crunch”
Being optimistic I had the faith--
Know it, I am not hard-nosed,
Then one fine day,
I read “Due to water shortage, the bathrooms are closed.”
Swimming pool maintenance or again some shortage???
Sun should be out soon, this is a temporary haze.
Overcrowded Bus??
Stand and keep the dress creased,neat
Cabin full, seats full,
Stop wondering--Where to seat?
I fear a day when I see communist fervor in letters—
Written over white in grey….
Guys reading in utter dismay,
Due to FCI new amendments….
“Food won’t be supplied to Infoscion, every Monday”
I fear a day
whenDue to shortage of funds:
Party fund won’t be allocated
Only way to my favorite disc will then be Decimated
Pray from heart, you don’t read something like this , mate
Due to shortage of revenues, salary wont be paid ;)
~DheerajLabels: Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 1:01 AM |
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| Story of the night |
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1.THE PLAN.
Last night I set myself up for a rollicking night. Good food (That only means chicken), lots of alcohol combined with India’s win hang-over last day, cigarette as desserts , ROCKY again on Star movies and then retire to Bed with my new Brand new ALL OUT mosquito refill.
2.CRAP:
Frankly,Just came through mind so wrote--Repellants, Deo-sprays, Perfumes, wallets---These are a few things that hurt most to buy even if we don’t think twice to buy a high-end shirt.
May be because, we, know that the repellant is taken with precision and stealth away by your friend next room.
That Deo-spray is generously sprayed over stinking socks and equally stinking body-odor.
Wallets- Meant to be gifted ok? Remember my bday-6th May.So be it!!
3. THE PURCHASE
I was at the shop to buy my ALL OUT when indispensable happened. No matter any things falls or goes up. Smokers are bound to pay more every financial year and shop keepers are first to know this always.Since, we pay tax most, shouldn’t be there tax exemption on smokers/drinkers? Social stigma attached, perhaps.
Before I could demand or argue with shopkeeper, here is what I heard a lady saying—
“2 Kilo wallah ARIAL SURF dena”Man, Ever heard next one?? I did!!
“Aristrocat Ka VIP dikhaegea”
And the omnispoken ( Is there a word like this?)
“Iska Xerox ker dijiye”
Anyways, I went ahead to play safe and ask“All out dena bhai”.!
4. NIGHT HAS FALLEN
Making sure everybody have slept and plugged in their repellantsI took out mine from that huge pile of dirty clothes that was supposedly inside the Laundry bag (or so we wanted it or rather that’s the way it should be)I remember --“Guys,Every room will have two bags- Pink one for washed clothes and Yellow one for dirty ones. “One roomie (he has been trying to be innovative) proposed absolutely different idea of using Yellow for Clean ones and vice-versa citing some analogy from Traffic signals. Crap!!!Moreover, I slipped into clumsy bed sheet to take my nap. Knowing the two Dragons who kept appearing when I feel sleepy and I plugged in the repellant in nearest socket to my Bed.
5. Conversation in the world Of Mosquitoes (I call them chamgadar):
Mosky-1: Boss, Look at our prey. He is sleeping fast .Lets warm our buts on the newly lead light chair.
Bosky-1: Sure Man, even if you sacrifice your life by laying themselves on the minefield, you will be a proud comrade of our fraternity.(Sequence inspired by war movie where the soldier kept lying on the landmine to save their company)
Mosky1: Don’t worry commander, I have always been in such situation and came with flying colors. I can take upon the mantle to restrict repellant spirits from getting out of that box and harm our friends.
Bosky1: We appreciate your concern and promise onsite opportunity back in Patna where lifestyle is lavish and you get helluva opportunities to grow your strength.
Mosky1: Thank you Boss. I hope to take Friday’s Patna-LTTE super fast with my family. Wish me luck.
Bosky1: I will go around to the backyard squalor box and distribute the anti-smoke, anti-repellant masks to our friends.And I always wonder why those mosquitoes assemble and what do they do sitting pretty on the dark waters.
Mosky1: We all love you Boss!! May moskies stay forever and propogate exponentially.
Bosky1: Amen.Then, that mosquito sat on my repellant and helped others to enjoy the night out with my accidentally exposed body parts.
6.THE CLASSIFICATION
Meanwhile, I came to know there are those special Task force Mosquitoes who always find a place in your body where you find hardest to satiate the itching urges.
And they are ones who risk their life the most. Remember the times when you deliberately want to kill that irritating mosky playing its drum near your ears but fail even with two hands. They are tactics executors. Their job is most risky but have smaller mortality rate.
There are ones who matches with the color of walls, mosquito nets. They are disguise masters.They simply irritate and lower men’s morale.
The plebian who believe in living life to fullest and with pride are the plebian soldiers.They suck most, are red-bodied, body builders, chivalrous and die at youngest age.
The little ones, R&D associates, almost invisible ones are in R&D department, reside on still waters, their life is most important, they tend to live for longest periods serving for cause of their society and finding out ways to counter human actions to ward off them.
7. MY GRIMACE:
I know I killed 2 soldiers that day. My bed is stanched with the corpse and their blood,.My own blood,.alchohol in my blood had made them a little too brave, I guessI killed one Special task force moski as well when I reluctantly tried itching the lateral-inside of my index finger. Crush with the adjacent finger and gone.His one broken leg had its impression in there till I decided to clean the sins in the morning.Its family should go Patna for better life, hopefully.
Their world should not be like ours-selfish. Hope so!!
~DheerajLabels: Funny Sides of Events, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:45 AM |
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