|| शरारत ||

कद ६ फुट 

सीना ५६ इंच

उम्र २६ साल ९५ दिन

इसको  छेड़ दूँ

उसको  छेड़ दूँ

पूरी दुनियां छेड़ दूँ  ।

आँखों में शरारत

दिल में बेचैनी

दिमाग सोच में

क्या कैसे किसको कब छेड़ू !

हर समय चलता एक विचार

किसको बनाऊ अगला शिकार

कौन है मेरा सानी यहाँ

एक ही हुआ है मुझसा यहाँ !

सबको हँसाने का है ज़िम्मा मेरा

सच बोलके या झूठ

कौन करे इसकी परवाह ।

कोई हँसता

और कोई रुठ जाता

कोशिश में इसकी

कभी कभी हू मैं  हार जाता ।

पर कोशिश नहीं छूटेगी

एक दिन ये दुनिया याद करेगी

वो जो हँसाता भी था

और साथ में मारता भी था ।

Tacky Imprints !!

Sob Sob.

"Why Aniket? Why?", teacher asked furiously.

"Why did you hit Rahul?", but came no reply. 

She dismissed both of them from the class for that hour.

( Next day )

Sob Sob.

"Mam, he again bullied me.", Rahul said crying.

"Aniket", teacher shouted at top of her voice.

"I warned you yesterday not to repeat this again na?", and she tried threatening him not to do that again.

They both were again dismissed for the hour.

( Next Day )

"Aniket!!!!", even today Rahul complained being beaten by him.

"Why do you have to hit Rahul everyday? How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? This is too much now."

The teacher was in a fix now what to do. It was becoming a daily nuisance for her now. Everyday she warned them both but one could clearly see that it had no impact.

She was unable to make out the reason for such beatings between both of them. As they literally had no issue of rift between them for such violence to take place daily.

Transfixed, she ordered Aniket,"Alright, ask your Father to meet me tomorrow during school hours positively".

She had thought that this might be enough to surface some fear on his face but the person who did get scared off was Rahul and not Aniket.

Today even he stood there, cool and calm, listening to the scoldings of the teacher .

( Next Day )

( In the Staff Room )

"Good Afternoon Madam.", said a husky voice.

The teacher looked up from the copies she was correcting to see Aniket's Father standing along with him.

"Yea, Sir. Please have a seat. The reason I called you for is, your son has a daily activity which is really annoying".

"Everyday in the recess time, he has to slap Rahul. Sir, I want you to ask your son the reason for such violent act as I have already tried my best to discover the reason but have always failed."

"I can't let this happen anymore because his parents are complaining to me every then and now to take serious actions against your son, so if please you could make him understand that whatever he is doing is just not done.", teacher completed the whole drama story in one go.

"Why did you slap Rahul?", now the interrogator was his Father, so keeping quiet seemed to be a bad idea.

He tried answering but words just won't come out.

"Answer me, why did you hit Rahul ?", this time a more threatening voice was heard in the staff room.

For a moment even the teacher got scared, but then came the reply.

"I love to see the imprints of all my fingers on his face after slapping him", came the innocent reply.

Smita 

Sthreesanth....

Note- Please do not read it if you are a Sreesanth fan.

I want to slap someone ya. I mean, I’ve watched so many slaps in Indian movies and IPL cricket that I badly want to slap someone and feel the feel. I don’t want Sreesanth’s image to pop into my head right now please. Oops, it just did. I mean, that fellow Sreesanth, let me explain. The day he made his first appearance in the International Stage, the street dog in my street went missing. My next door aunty kept on yelling at her son- “Take bath you dirty fellow, you look like Sreesanth.” Birds took inspiration and built nests like his hair style. Coir companies are dying for samples of his hair. Bitches got turned on every time he came on screen. And, finally, people like me were instigated with the urge to slap someone. When Harbhajan slapped him that day, I was happily sitting in the loo deducting something. Once I finished my duties I made the mistake of watching those clips of him, his eyes all red, weeping and blowing his nose. Ok, I’m exaggerating, but, you know, I suffered from a bad constipation problem for the next six weeks. With Sreesanth, it was like ‘hate at first sight’ for me.

Anyway, coming back to the ‘slapping-someone’ part, nowadays I’ve been busy identifying ‘slappable faces’. Having a nice round cheek is a god given gift. But, that fortunately or unfortunately has become Sreesanth’s USP. Someone please get him out of my head. So yeah, a nice round cheek is a requisite. I thought a while about Rakhi Sawant, but then finally concluded that she is more a punch-on-her-nose types. I then stared at myself hard through the mirror and gave myself the Benefit-of- Doubt. Then came the image of that ‘He-knows-everything-except-what-his-daughter-is-doing’ uncle. But since I know what she is doing, and since I know a little too much of what she’s doing, had to drop the idea. Then, for a fraction of a second the thoughts of Himesh Reshammia passed by. But I let it pass by. A small ricochet of the slap onto his nose would end his career that very day.

So basically, I’m confused. The search is still on. Let me know if you have that perfect cheek. Take Care. Irony.

“My life’s been like Sreesanth’s hair. He needs a hair cut; I need a Drink.”

Happy Womans Day!

*Sandeep logs in to gtalk and the moment he does, gets a buzz from Ste*

Ste: Anna!! What's up?

Sandeep: You tell me. How'z Pune shaping up?

Ste: What yar! Work life is tough

Sandeep: I told you so

Ste: Our baby WL is back on track again

Sandeep: With the family values so strong, its bound to!

Ste: It's been so long we met

Sandeep: Seriously maccha!

Ste: I am so happy today

Sandeep: I know. I know.

Ste: I have tears in my eyes. Tears of sheer joy.

Sandeep: I know. I understand.

Ste: I won't regret dying any moment now.

Sandeep: I know. I understand. I appreciate.

Ste: Today is my best day ever!

Sandeep: Wow! I never knew you missed me so much dude

Ste: Gone mad! Not you. Its Womens Day today and all the chicks here in office are in Sari bro. And that girl, Kanagakumari Saundarya Icchippatanaappuram Iyer. She looked at me and smiled. I don't mind dying any moment now. She's WOW! My tam ma'am


*Happy Womans Day to all you beautiful ladies out here with us on WL. You make this place what it is! Men's dont worry, we will have our Happy Men's Night soon! :-) :P*

The Indian Cow (I mean, almost that)

You'll forget English by the time you finish reading this. This is a true essay written by a candidate at the UPSC (IAS) Examinations.The candidate has written an essay on the Indian cow:

---

Indian Cow

HE IS THE COW. "The cow is a successful animal. Also he is 4 footed, And because he is female, he give milks, [but will do so when he is got child]. He is same like God, sacred to Hindus and useful to man. But he has got four legs together. Two are forward and two are afterwards. His whole body can be utilized for use. More so the milk. Milk comes from 4 taps attached to his basement. [Horses don't have any such attachment]

What can it do? Various ghee, butter, cream, curd, why and the condensed milk and so forth. Also he is useful to cobbler, waterman's and mankind generally. His motion is slow only because he is of lazy species, Also his other motion… gober is much useful to trees, plants as well as for making flat cakes [like Pizza], in hand and drying in the sun.Cow is the only animal that extricates his feeding after eating. Then afterwards she chews with his teeth that are situated in the inside of the mouth. He is incessantly in the meadows in the grass. His only attacking and defending organ is the horns, especially so when he is got child. This is done by knowing his head whereby he causes the weapons to be paralleled to the ground of the earth and instantly proceed with great velocity forwards. He has got tails also, situated in the backyard, but not like similar animals. It has hairs on the other end of the other side. This is done to frighten away the files which alight on his cohesive body hereupon he gives hit with it.The palms of his feet are soft unto the touch. So the grasses head is not crushed. At night time have poses by looking down on the ground and he shouts. His eyes and nose are like his other relatives. This is the cow......

---

The candidate passed the exam, and is now an IAS

Its a Forwarded Mail Post. I did not write it, as you might know - I'm not an IAS by any means :P LOL!

What they say---- What it means-----

Politician: We will eradicate Corruption totally.
Meaning: You will never get what you want anyway!
Boss: You have improved quite a Bit John!
Meaning: Earlier your work was S**T
Lover: I love you from the bottom of my Heart
Meaning: There are quite a Few in the slots above, before you
Husband: Darling you look so beautiful Today!
Meaning: I am working from Home today and want my Peace.
Wife: I really do not know what I would have done without you, my Dear
Meaning: Get ready to pay another Credit Card Bill.
Child: Daddy my teacher said your Papa and Mama are the best Parents!
Meaning: She wants your permission to join the school excursion.
Blogging Colleague: Wow!,You are posting like a Marathon.
Meaning: Dude, Its time you stopped. Enough is Enough.
Written in Lighter Veinfor My Musings. Even I fall for flattery!

2 POint Someone (Season-2) - 2 ..!!

Note- All characters in the story are fictitious. Though we have used some real names, its just intended for fun. So no hard feelings.:) And thanks to Ste for the cartoon.

You can catch the previous parts by clicking on the cartoon on the right hand sidebar of the blog. Enjoy

Kajal Iyer’s lecture commenced, Prats drowned herself into her text book, Chirag exhibited his teeth, Meow slept like an innocent cat and Rashmi blew paper rockets on to Ste and RJ. Kajal continued, her cheeks turning red- “Talking about Chemistry, it reminds me of my first crush in Primary School. He completely swept me off my feet with his love” she blushed and continued- “and his broomstick. He was a sweeper.” RJ yawned and Ste snored. Ste got lost into his own dreams where he was sorting out a relationship crisis- A triangle love story between him, Avantika Singh (of Headlines Today) and Taylor Swift. Meanwhile RJ felt like a superman with his powers; he just couldn’t listen to Kajal’s lectures. “Oh, damn! This lecture’s so boring” RJ banged his foot and looked out of the window. He spotted Priyanka under the mango tree writing a novel. No, in fact it was a leave letter. Apparently her attendance for the whole year was 6%.

With every minute of Kajal’s lecture, RJ felt the urge to become deaf. Ste, who was still snoring and dreaming, every now and then sleep-talked- “Hey Taylor, shall we name our daughter Avantika?” Anyway, RJ gathered bits of paper, made it into a ball and hurled it at Prats in search for company. Prats, in return, abused him in her style; she showed her text book. RJ then turned to Chirag only to find him staring at the tube light. With a sense of pride, RJ decided not to disturb him and tried looking out for others. RJ then hurled another paper-ball onto Rashmi and she returned a terrifying look- “aagey dekh be.” Ste, in the meanwhile continued with his sleep talks- “Avantika, I’ll marry you next time. Bbyee.”



Suddenly, against the run of play, Urvashi stood and sampled her voice- “Ma’am, I have a question.” Kajal had to pinch herself out of shock. Nobody ever had any questions to ask her in class. All were eager to find out who was that special person who had a question for Kajal. Prats dropped her text book and turned around like lightening. Chirag’s tube light burst and he came back to earth. As though a dog was after her life, Meow woke up in a flash. Rashmi almost fainted. But Ste was still sleeping. He was marrying Taylor Swift as per latest reports. RJ felt the urge to fall onto Urvashi’s feet, for having interrupted the lecture which was apparently putting many lives into jeopardy. Urvashi bit her nails and finally asked- “Ma’am. What’s his name, your first crush, the sweeper uncle?” and Kajal went on for another decade. This discussion had driven RJ completely out of peace and he made a mental note to write to Obama to retrieve his lost peace.

Just as all this was getting unbearable, Mr. RiverSoul (the computer science lecturer with 7 golden teeth) excused himself and entered in. RJ, with a sense of excitement jolted Ste from his sleep. Ste, in a sudden state of shock, having been shaken out of sleep yelled fearfully - “Avantikaaa.. please put that knife down.” The whole class gaped at him against the pin drop silence. An evil smile emanated out of RiverSoul’s jewel box as he said- “It’s you again? Back in action. Where’s the other idiot, your partner in crime?” It took less than a millisecond for all the eye balls in the class to change direction towards RJ. RJ stood; stood like a soldier. Mr. RiverSoul continued- “I came for you both, Arjun(RJ) and Ste. The principal wants to see you. Follow me.”

“Dude, what’s happening?” Ste rubbed his eyes.

“Nothing. Follow Mr. James Bond.” RJ winked.

Outside the principal room they stood wondering what was the fuss about. Mr. RiverSoul had vanished out of sight. They proceeded and opened the door to enter. A man of medium build and good height, neatly dressed and holding a flower in his right hand stood looking out of the window with his other hand on his hip.

RJ and Ste scanned the room with their eyes and spotted a RajniKanth’s real-size poster. Just then, the principal’s cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, waved to someone outside the window and began- “Balan…… Sandeep Balan.”

Stupidity Paradise..!!

It was as much as a week ago when I rubbed my eyes as it almost popped out like pop-corn when I noticed Roshan turning the ‘volume’ knob to the left. Apparently it wasn’t one of those songs where guys with long hair rattled their lungs out or put aged hearts into mouths. Instead, it was an old, romantic, soothing number. Since I am not consecrated with super natural powers, this sudden change in him was tough to digest. I mean, it felt as weird as going to a call center and not finding an Indian. Anyway, this was all just the beginning; beginning of a possible hassle.
Since there hasn’t been a single crisis over the whole of last week; in other words, since Roshan has been out of contact, we guys at college have egressed into a consensus that if it wasn’t for Roshan, the Nobel Peace prize bore no meaning. I mean, such was the vagary of his mind. Anyway, since life without a crisis is no life, the guys nominated me as their representative for the onerous job of visiting Roshan’s place and evaluating his recent abnormal behavior. Why was I selected specially for this job?? I’ll tell you later.

I put my bike to the side and knocked at door. Roshan’s mom greeted me with tilted lips and curved eye-brows. I transformed myself like lord Rama and greeted her with a wobbling voice and a sweet smile- “Hello aunty.”

“Hello.” She said plainly, exhibited a thousand expressions, enquired her regular doubt- “You take bath with water or perfume?” and vanished into the kitchen with a disgusting face. Since I was the most equipped and experienced in handling her, I was sent on this mission. Got an idea? Anyway, I entered the hall and spotted Roshan’s 5 year old brother; he was busy breaking a tiger’s leg (plastic one of course), singing along- “Inki Pinki Ponky… His father was a donkey…” He noticed me and hurled a plastic monkey which just missed my forehead. I would have whacked him if he was my own brother. Meanwhile I could hear Roshan from the bathroom, singing some silly song of the 90s. There was something spiritual playing in the kitchen. With all this 3D effect getting on to my nerves, I made a mental note to visit the doctor later in the evening. Just as I was getting too pissed off, like how goddesses emerge from the mist, Roshan walked out from the bathroom. Such an inchoate idiot he is, he almost walked away without noticing me. I had to hurl that plastic monkey on him to grab his eye-balls. He returned an expression which reminded me of old movies where the heroes realized just before the movie ended that they were actually brothers after which followed a whole lot of hugging and stuff.

In ten minutes, Roshan came all dressed up, drowned inside his loose shirt and cargos. I stood waiting for his mom’s comment and she never disappoints. “You look like a rag picker” she said and again vanished. Finally a cup of coffee arrived which we emptied in no time. Me and Roshan decided to do the ‘walk the talk’ thing, so decided to leave. I waved ‘good-bye’ to aunty and she returned the wave with some kind of looks which I couldn’t comprehend. Then to Mr. 5yr old, I pinched his cheeks and said- “Byee..” He hurled his plastic tiger right on to my face. I am a gentleman, I didn’t retaliate.

Within a few minutes we were on to the streets strolling along checking out all kinds of stuff. After discussing various other issues of national importance, we came to the topic at hand- “What happened to you? Haven’t been to college? Cell phone’s always busy? Don’t say it’s a girl..”

“That’s exactly what it is.” Roshan smiled like Mr. Pepsodent.

“Oh my god! Where, who, when, how?” I stuttered.

“It all started when her dog barked and almost bit me on the road side,” he felt shy and continued- “I realized it was her dog when she saved me from it. That’s how it all started.”

“You shameless fellow. We’ll see you in college tomorrow right?”

“No dude. I have plans with her. I’m gonna take her out.”

“Where?”

“Surprise.” He said which pissed me off to the core. He noticed my threatening looks and said sheepishly- “Planetarium.” He smiled and continued- “Better than a movie na? It will atleast be informative.”
I controlled myself from bashing my head to the electric pole or indulging in any sort of violent activities such as pulling off my own hair or anything. I am basically a diplomatic person.

Through the walk, he said this and that, that and this. My legs started to ache, mind started to wander and that’s when I balked his non-stop talk and arrived at an accord- “See you tomorrow.”



It was 9am in the class, next day. I had recited the story to one and all. All were as much stunned as happy that Roshan now had a girlfriend. Just then, against all expectations, Roshan came rushing through, wearing a sad face. He came straight to me and sulked- “Dude, it’s over. She’s gone?”

“What the hell? Why?”

“She called me this morning and said her dog went missing. She was sad.”

“What did you do?”

“I conveyed my condolences,” he paused and continued- “ but before that……”

“What? What did you do?”

“The dog that almost bit me is gone man. Of course I laughed.”

From nothing to something..!!

Well we all mature,become something from nothing(of course academically otherwise i feel every person is superior in his ownself).And suddenly everything changes just in an instant.Everything goes in a opposite way.Wondering how?Like this..

1.When you're nothing you wake up as you want,in your shorts,hair and beard all grown up,sit with a coffee(which ofcourse you order your mum for that and she curses you for it everyday),a news paper in hand reading all the news in the world which has nothing to do with you but still is fun in some way..
Now when you're something,you become a professional.You've to be properly dressed as anybody can land up at your place even in the morning(why don't these people stay at their place i wonder sometimes then i figure out may be the flush at their bathroom is not working so they're coming here).You don't have to order coffee it comes without asking because now you're earning and you sit with a news paper reading about shares,fiscal policies,budget and the most boring things in this entire world..Now that's very boring and depressing..!

2.When you're nothing nobody has any concerns for you,you can do the hell you want no one will bother asking about you(He's a loser,let him do what he wants they think)..
Now when you're something everybody is suddenly all concerned for you.Neighbours,relatives,their relatives,watchman,newspaperwala,dudhwala,everybody,just everybody making your life hell leaving you on privacy.

3.When you're nothing your parents say 'No girl is ever going to marry you'.At that point you take is as a offence and you boast yourself saying 'girls would die for me'.You want it very bad.But nobody believes you.
When you're something,suddenly you're the most eligible bachelor in town with everybody trying to find a girl for you.You think 'i'm nothing','A girl will get destroyed if she marries me'.You don't want a bit of it but you've to take it.

4.When you're nothing you can always say 'Don't worry my father will look after it',worrying about nothing.And no matter what you do,your father will look into the case(Ofcourse at the same time he'll tell you everything wrong you've done in your entire life and he'll tell you that you're useless).
When you're something,you're on your own,your father will say,'You're a man now,take care of it,till when will you take your parent's help?'And suddenly you're in this harsh world all on your own,all screwed up.

5.When you're nothing you can act the hell you want.If you're sitting in a cafe,you can make faces,laugh out loud enough to make it hear to the whole world,make fun of everybody sitting around,act like complete spoiled kid.
Now when you're something suddenly you've to enter the world of sophistication.Sit properly,act properly and make your life a complete boredom.

Friends i don't say that we should be nothing all our lives,ofcourse we've to be something,something everybody is proud of but in this process we should not lose the small lil lovely moments of our life which give us the inner peace.And that peace will only come when that kid in us is always alive somewhere.Become something,but don't let that kid die.Live life on your terms.World will be a better place to live in and you'll be a better person too.

Regards
aMaR..

Sleep Until You Go To Bed..!!

1.55pm, at my place.

I woke up to a brassy thud of my main door one week day. I strained my eye-balls to the corners of the eye to catch the clock but in vain. If you din’t know- laziness finds its nest in me ; I’m lazy in everything except in ‘being lazy’. So the question in hand was- how would I check the time, without actually doing as strenious a thing as lifting-my-head-and-rotating-it-towards-the-clock?

I set out with my analysis-

2 thuds per-day – both by Dad – morning or lunch time? – not morning, I couldn’t smell a Body Spray – so- lunch time – 1.30 to 2 – Dad’s office is 5 mins away - The time is 1.55 pm. I’ve slept for 14 hours – record-breaking stuff. Wow..!!

My phone vibrated like a ghost from under the pillow. – “Hello!” I sounded alert.

“Dude, me Roshan. Where are you?” You Idiot

“I’m in the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) preparing the software part of our project work.”

“That’s great. I’m in NIIT - ‘Networking’ class.” Bullshit

“That’s great!”

“I’ll meet you in an hour in IISc.” Get lost

“Nope. I’ll meet you in NIIT in an hour.” I announced putting my vocal chords into unnecessary strain.

“Nope. Let the place be Barista.” He finalised.

As I put down the phone, I raised my left hand to fetch the TV remote. Rambo on Star Movies. Lovely! With my slothful right hand I fetched the cold-coffee which I suppose would have been Hot-coffee when it was kept there. When people ask me questions like- “ Don’t you exercise? How bad?” and stare at me disgustingly, I have a few ready-made words- “ I meditate for 14 hours followed by some finger exercises ( with my TV remote), then my arms ( by moving it to and fro, in and out of my mouth), my neck ( which shuffles repetitively between the TV screen and the coffee mug) and finally my legs ( basically by stretching them).”

Anyway, as the movie was interrupted with commercials of a tooth-paste-with-salt thing, I decided to head to the bathroom in search of my tooth brush.



1.55pm, at Roshan’s place.

“Bah bah black sheep, hav………..” he sang, abrupty paused and sprung out of bed like a clown. He threw a glance at the clock and yawned. “I’ve slept for 16 hours straight. Wow!” he told himself and continued- “ my dream… oh.. my dream… “ he tried to recollect. After 120 seconds, his bulb glowed as he could picture his abruptly ended dream- 3 ghosts with invisible bottoms surrounded him, manufacturing scary faces at him. Just then a saint entered from nowhere ( like Rajnikanth) chanting- “Omm Sai Baba …. Omm Sai Baba..” He rested his arms over Roshan’s shoulder and adviced- “ My boy, chant a bhajan to praise Baba and he will take care of the ghosts.” Wasting no time, Roshan began- “ Ba-Ba Black sheep…..” and that’s when he woke up.

Anyway, he came back to the real world and retrieved a cup of tea which was placed on his book/tea-stand. He found his phone and dialled-

“Hello?”

“Dude, me Roshan. Where are you?” he enquired.

“I’m in the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) preparing the software part of our project work.” Bullshit

“That’s great. I’m in NIIT - ‘Networking’ class.”

“That’s great!” You dumb-head

“I’ll meet you in an hour in IISc.”

“Nope. I’ll meet you in NIIT in an hour.” Get lost


“Nope. Let the place be Barista.”




1 Hour Later

Barista was empty enough at 3 in the afternoon. A few tables were occupied though, with couples trialing each other’s faces. I found a seat, ordered some weird-named coffee and stared at good looking faces indiscriminately. Meanwhile Roshan rushed in hurriedly and sat facing me. He hooked his eye-brow and asked- “ IISc?”
I nodded and copied his hooking-the-eye-brow-thing and shot back- “NIIT?”
He nodded and looked away. Letting a few minutes of silence go by, I looked at him, bounced my eye-brows as if to ask him- “What?” for which he returned a half-closed eye. With all this non-sense, a third eye could easily mistake us for two dons finalising a murder or something. Anyway, another minute of silence passed and I cleared my throat and asked- “ How long?”

“What ‘how long’?”

“Ok. Me 14 hours.” I winked.

“Yup. Me 16 hours.”

“damn…” we lifted our mugs.

“Sometimes we stay up so late that we have our morning coffee just before we go to bed.”

Kids..... Ouchh..!!

I banged my foot on the ground thrice "bang .. bang … bang.." as I saw my neighbor, an old lady with her 8 year old grandson at the door. I pulled the latch in ‘action replay’ mode, more so like the way old bollywood couples ran in slow motion before they hugged each other. As I opened the door, a breeze hit me and ‘warning’ alarms went off inside my head. The granny adjusted her glasses and smiled. I observed that I could spot only one of her teeth and that resembled ‘The Leaning Tower of Pisa’. My eyes then shifted to her grandson, who wore blue colored shorts, the size of my hand kerchief. He too had just one tooth visible in the Gandhi class (I mean front row), as he squeezed through between my legs into the house.

“I’m going to the market now. Can I leave Pintu here for a while?” the granny enquired.

She looked like modern Mother Teresa, and that sent a liter of ‘good will’ into my heart, hence I replied- “Go ahead. I will look after Pintu.” After all, normal human beings can commit blunders.

I shut the door and initiated a ‘search operation’ for this boy Pintu. ‘The period of time that Pintu is out of sight’ is directly proportional to ‘Danger’. Could you guess that I love Physics? Good. Anyway, I continued with the ‘search operation’, like a hunter. I rubbed my eyes twice and discovered that Pintu was sitting on my bed, both legs and arms folded. I almost saw Swamy Vivekananda in him, when I discovered something below him. I approached him tardily as if I was there to catch a snake. I stared hard at that thing, and realized it was my laptop. I zoomed my eyes towards it and got further horrified when I noticed his blue colored shorts reflecting a darker shade now. “Oh Lord, this guy has no ‘nappy’ and he has pissed on my ‘lappy’,” I screamed inside my head, not in a mood to adore the poetic skills in me.

It took me an hour for the entire cleaning process to terminate as Pintu sat and watched ‘Cartoon Network’. God bless the founder of cartoons. “Children are like God” I reminded myself and tried to be Mr. Kind as I went into the kitchen to prepare some ‘corn-flakes’ for my dearest Pintu. I heated the milk, put some ‘Kelloggs corn-flakes’ into the bowl and glanced at Jnr. Danger. He was trying his vandalism skills with today’s newspaper, but that was nothing, so I counted 1 to 10 and stirred the mixture. As and when it was ready, I brought the bowl to the hall but couldn’t find my hero. The physics equation resounded with echoes somewhere inside me. I walked slowly into my room, but I was too unlucky, couldn’t find him. A few precious seconds wasted, I then walked slowly into the other room, stood at the entrance and scanned through the room but found no one. There was complete silence; life-threatening silence. Like a flash, as though like in the ghost movies, “bhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” he screamed and jumped from behind the door to the front of me leaving me terrified and cold. I almost had my foot in my mouth for a second. “hahaha… you got scared..” he vanished into the hall.

I prayed to god, recited a few ‘mantras’ and went to the hall and sat next to him. “Children are like God..” I controlled myself by repeating it again and again as though like a tape-recorder which was out-of-order. In the meanwhile, he came to me, stood over my lap and stared long and hard at my face like a scientist. I returned a few silly expressions. He then came close to me and asked- “Anna (brother), why do you have a moustache?” and tried to pluck it. “Aaaahhhhhh…” I howled, put him over the sofa, stood and shouted at him- “Shut up.” He looked with his eyes opened wide as I went on – “ Fold your hands………. Close your mouth…Don’t open that mouth and don’t move.. Just sit.” I slid next to him, grabbed at the corn-flakes bowl, scooped it with a spoon and held it in front of his mouth. My dearest of dearest Pintu wouldn’t open his mouth (as his master instructed) .. damn… “You can open your mouth to eat..” I said as he did and once I put the spoon in his mouth he wouldn’t close it. I didn’t cry, nor did I pluck the hair out off my head but just stared at the ceiling fan.



Just when I thought I needed a trip to the brain doctor, I saw a goddess glowing away through the window with flowers in her hands, ringing my door bell wanting to introduce me to the staff members up above. No, I just saw Granny. She came in and said with a tooth-exhibiting smile- “ Hope Pintu didn’t trouble you,” and I almost began to search the number to call the brain doctor. I just returned a simple smile. She lifted Pintu, who was now having his corn-flakes on his own. The feeling of subtracting a ton of weight from my heart began as she said to her Pintu- “Say bye to anna..” The intelligent boy dropped the bowl of corn-flakes (which landed and splashed straight on my lap) and waved good-bye to me. Granny apologized and left taking away her thunder-like grandson. I headed to the bathroom for part 2 of the cleaning work. My shorts this time.

Children are fun and lovely, but man- “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.”

Mumbai Times Exclusive Interview with Sandeep Balan

# Mumbai Times contacted Sandeep Balan for a tete-a-tete seesion. They wanted to interview him and share some insights on what went behind the creation of this masterpiece and his thoughts on his fellow bloggers. Little did they know of what lay ahead ;-P. Read on!!

Reporter: Hi Sir. This is Sachin from Mumbai Times.
Sandeep: Hello Sachin. Call me Sandy or Balu.
Reporter: Sandeep! Everything fine
Sandeep: I am not able to give time for my baby.

Reporter: Congragulations sir .How is your baby?
Sandeep: Do I look that old. Man ,I 'm just 26 and a smart bachelor ..

Reporter: Oh! sorry sir.Tell me more about your fellow loungers
Sandeep: You must be knowing Aarthi naa ..

Reporter: Oh yeah the girl who married Virendra Sehwag.
Sandeep: Damn! Artz ki shaadi Virendra Sehwag se hui hai ...i didn't knew it..Aarthi ki bachhi you used call me big brother naa..... ..

Reporter: Tell me about some other member,yeah Arjun.
Sandeep: Arjun is a comedian in our league.

Reporter: Arjun Rampal is a hero naa...
Sandeep: Reporter ke bachhe.I'm talking about Arjun ,the blogger.

*Sandeep tries to play a prank on the reporter*
Sandeep: you must be knowing Pratibha
Reporter: Yes She is the first lady of our country.

Sandeep: Abhey Pratibha Patil nahi Pratibha sofat
Reporter: Sorry sir,now I get it.She writes good poems naaa..

Reporter: Tell me more about your brother and co founder Ste .
Sandeep: Ste is a genius and I admire him since my childhood.I actually adore his humbleness and modesty.He recently came to India and met me in my office.

Reporter: Excuse me! Ste is an Indian and he lives in India.
Sandeep: Oh aren't you talking of Ste aka Steve Waugh.You see I address Steve Waugh as Ste.He came to my office recently . ...wonderful person he is.

Reporter: Thank you sir,I need to leave.Ste was one such guy and now you are double of him.... you braggers.
Sandeep: Hey!don't you want to know about my girlfriend

Reporter: Now who is that poor soul.
Sandeep: Its Emma!! she is the one whom I love

Reporter: The same Emma who sells flowers and candles outside Mahim Church naa....
Sandeep: No stupid!Its Emma Watson,my girlfriend

*The Reporter packs his bags and runs away*

My Travel Companion..!!

“When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did, in his sleep -- not screaming, like the passengers in his car.”

“Hoooo…hahahah..” laughed….. coughed……… laughed………. coughed harder… Man, I was having the time of my life.

It was a small town which was on view through the caged windows of the train, as it retarded in speed before coming to a halt. I resembled an asthma patient gasping for breath, with the company of this man sitting beside me. He’d introduced himself as- “ Mr. Prasad, a proffessor for class 12 for English” raised his glasses and continued-“One who talks while students are asleep” for which I had let out a bomb blast like laughter, terrorising people sitting around me. I’d then offered him some peanuts, for which he fixed a stared at them, examined them in such a way that it made me feel aweful that I hadn’t had a magnifying glass handy. He continued his contemplation, and finally, like a scientist, gave me some advice- “ Peanuts are to be well roasted. Then salted. Then neatly packed. Then thrown into the dust bin. I hate peanuts.” This time I didn’t quite jump off my chair nor did I laugh like a dinosaur. I had a distant feeling like that of - Kissing a Policeman.



Meanwhile, as the train was back in motion, a girl, whom I had named- ‘The Social Secretary of the Compartment’, came by carrying a small baby of some lady who was seated rows away. I mean, some people, in the name of socialising start pissing you off. She brought the baby close to me and whispered to the baby- “ Say ‘hii’ to uncle” and the baby started playing with my nose. God damn… Uncle?? Anyway, I drew the girl closer and whispered- “ Looking at the baby’s expressions, I feel it might piss any moment.” Needless to say that my plan succeeded and she slid out of sight in a nanosecond. Meanwhile, I observed ‘Mr. Professor’ busy reading ‘Chandamama’ as I tried my level best to shut up.

Anyway, after another two hour long, entertaining journey, the train touched Bangalore, which meant that Mr. Prasad had no other option but to give some rest to his mouth while I made a mental note to visit the doctor with my jaw. As the train and his mouth came to a complete halt, we fetched our respective bags, waved ‘good-bye’ to our social secretary and stepped out of the train as I began a ‘search operation’ for the one and only Roshan, who was supposed to be here to pick me up. I phoned him to find him on the other side- “ Heylo! When is your train gonna reach man? I’m in the third platform waiting for you.”

“My dear Roshan. Third platform from the ‘Front’ entrance not the ‘Back’ entrance.”

“2 mins.” ….Damn…….

In two minutes, I spotted him sprinting like Sharukh Khan ( without a bouquet of course) towards me as I turned to offer Mr. Prasad a drive upto his place. Like all professors, he shamelessly accepted the invitation. I mean, atleast a simple“ no, It’s okay” would have been nice. Anyway, we walked out of the station with Roshan leading us, as though escorting us. After a walk which almost tended to infinity, I spotted a huge, erect ‘No Parking’ sign board and Roshan’s car right below it. The sight, nothing new to me though. Talk about irresponsible citizens.

As we were about to enter the car, Roshan noticed a piece of paper stuck onto his wipers. Roshan retrieved the piece of paper, which said ‘ Parking Fine’. He got back to us and held it with enthusiasm, and said- “ Look at this. Parking Fine.”

The reflexes were enough for Mr. Prasad to reply- “When u find a slip – “Parking Fine” on your car… It doesn’t mean your parking was fine.”

“You dumb head,” I completed the sentence….. laughed…. Coughed… laughed… coughed harder…

Midnight Outing..!!

(Guys, writing after a long gap. Lost touch. But anyway (try to) enjoy it :) )

“Damn… These mosquitoes….. Dude, I'm not able to sleep at all.” Roshan almost cried.

“Think about your ex, think about the day you got your board exam results and the day your neighbour’s dog bit you…..” I went on like a ‘Reality Show’ judge..

“Shut up. Oh my god, you just ruined my night’s sleep.” Roshan sat up trying to forget everything that I had told him to recollect. He shook his head and continued- “Okay. Now tell me, how to get rid of these mosquitoes? Man, they come close to my ears and make stupid sounds.”

“You’ve got to take revenge on them man. Show them your man-ness.”

“But how??” Roshan said, though the ‘how’ was dragged so much that it sounded like a wolf’s howl.

I stood and marched to the cupboard to fetch my CD pouch, slipped out an audio CD from it and passed it on to Roshan- “Take this.”

“Latest Hits OF Himesh Reshammia?”

“Yup. What better way to take revenge on those mosquitoes uh??”

He kicked me hard after which he hurt his toe, howled like a wolf again and went back to his bed. I mean, any mad fan of Himesh would have done the same. All was well from my side, as eventually I had ended up irritating him more than those little useless mosquitoes.

An hour later……

I noticed Roshan sitting against me wearing one of those Shilpa Shetty’s fake IPL smiles. He growled - “You ruined my sleep you idiot.”

I returned a girlish smile, which pissed him off even more. He pulled my blanket out as if he was planning to strip me, but just said, rather ordered- “We are going for a ride. Get up.”

Cruising at a high speed, there we were, on the streets of Bangalore as the clock struck 2 in the morning. We rode along as the cold breeze tickled our ears, the silence around gave a becalming effect and the blood pressures raised with every turn he took. I yelled at him from the rear seat- “Ride carefully. I almost met god last time I sat behind you.”

“You are not on the pavement, so you are safe.” He yelled back.

I didn’t actually quite stab him but I was tempted to say – “Go to hell” but again, I was intelligent enough to hold it back realising the irony that it would present considering that I was sitting behind him.




Anyway, finally Roshan spotted the brakes and the bike was brought to rest. I realised that we had tripped 10kms in pursuit of a cigarette. His wafer-thin wallet had enough in it to afford a cigarette for him and a cool-drink for me. He gazed strenuously at me and enquired out of frustration – “When will you grow up?”

“I read about the evils of smoking, I gave up smoking.” I smiled.

“I read about the evils of smoking, I gave up reading.” He smiled.

I returned the stare like I had glasses slipping from the tip of my nose. He continued gazing at me, now like a devil with his face engulfed in smoke. I continued with my cool-drink, staring at the sky as he continued puffing away smoke staring at street dogs. Just as it was getting boring, a girl wearing pants which almost started from her thighs came by and asked Roshan- “What kinda' person are you?”

“Who? Me?” Roshan bulged his eyes showing excitement as he hid his tautness.

“Yes baby.” She smiled.

“I’m basically a diplomatic person.” Roshan replied in a way which reminded me of my class 10, slightly eccentric Maths teacher.

“If you think, completing your ‘diploma’ course is what is being ‘diplomatic’ then you are wrong you stupid.” I said clamorously busy staring at ‘nothing’.

The girl, an intelligent one I concluded, turned to me and asked me straight- “You want that stuff?” as she dug out a packet of a whitish powder from her bore well sized pocket. Roshan, who was aghast at seeing her with drugs, leapt on to the bike and threw it into ignition and rustled –“ Dude, come over. Fast.” I walked to the bike with one eye fixed to the girl ( like James Bond), said- “ Tell me if that powder doesn’t work, I have a CD of Himesh Reshammia’s latest hits” and off we went as Roshan played with the accelerator putting the lives of street dogs into jeopardy.

As we reached home, Roshan went into a mood where he sounded like a retired senior citizen, with his ears being fed with some ‘latest hits’ of those silly mosquitoes. He went on and on with his morality talks, which reminded me of a line – “If electricity comes from electrons does it mean morality comes from morons?” Anyway, that’s when I realised that there are worse things in life than death, spending an evening (sounds better than ‘night’) with Roshan.

Blackboard's tale

I am black in color and I am not ashamed of it. In fact, I am quite proud of it. I have always found black to be “beautiful”. It’s like serenity and style packaged into one. I have been stuck here all my existence. Ever since I have glanced upon this world, it’s been while being nailed up here. I quite like it here actually for most part of light but it’s really that time I enjoy the most when everything around me embraces my color. The world is such a peaceful and silent place @ that moment. I seem to be far, far away from the sounds of chitter and chatter which I have to endure during the day.
Talking of the day, as much I despise it, it actually is not such a bad time pass for me. Of course, it’s not peaceful as the night but it’s an interesting change. Yes, I do have to endure the biggest irritant in this world to me, those white colored half-sticks which I have hate-named as “obnoxious gnomes”. I call them irritant coz they are not worthy enough of being called an enemy but trust me when I say this, I hate them like hell. These gnomes seem to have a divine right to scratch my body and make ugly marks on my smooth exterior. Yes, they are temporary marks but still I hate to look ugly even for a moment. I take absolute pleasure in the fact that these sticks get decimated and lose their existence in the process of creating these marks on me which I think is nature’s revenge for me. But they seem to reproduce exponentially. As soon as one of these loses its existence and becomes white granules, another comes up to take its place. They are a disdainful lot who deserve the utmost contempt from my exalted existence. They have colored cousins too who are only different in color to them. When it comes to their ability of scarring me, they are just as willing.
Giving these gnomes very tough competition for the dishonor of being called the “biggest irritant” are those two-footed, clothed animals which keep me company during most part of the day. The only reason they get booted to the 2nd position is because of a great service they offer me of which I will give a detailed explanation later. These hypocrites talk of equality and liberty in my presence, of caste and color having no importance, yet they have so ungracefully named me after the color of my exterior…*racists, all of them*…Coming back to these two footed animals, they are divided into two classes namely….1) those who sit with their backs to me who I have named “Maam-sir” and 2) those who sit with their faces to me who I have named “Boydent n Girldent”.
The ones who sit with their backs to me seldom sit actually. Most of the time they are a willing partner-in-crime to those gnomes in scratching my body and in addition to this crime they keep touching me with those tentacles of theirs…*perverts*…. However, I allow them this only coz they unknowingly offer me the thing which I crave for most but as I said “I’ll come back to that later”.
The ones who sit with their faces to me are far greater in quantity and much more interesting qualitatively. Of them I despise those the most who keep staring @ me unblinking with those two circular sockets at the top of their structures….*voyeurs*…. While their number is thankfully less, the act is despicable @ the least. The others however are far more entertaining. Some of them are amusing to the very core. From making all sorts of funny faces to sticking out a slimy parabolic structure from their mouth, from hurling objects @ each other to sometimes sticking their middle tentacle in the direction of the Maam-sirs, they do it all. Of course, they do this mostly when the Maam-sirs are busy scratching me but that’s besides the point. Some of the boydents keep staring @ the girldents and vice-versa….not that am feeling jealous here but are they more beautiful than me??? Neither are they as black as me nor do they have half as smooth an exterior as I have, but probably they are happy with staring @ less beautiful stuff. One reason that I like Boydents and Girldents is coz they sometimes engage in a sort of a game which gives infinite pleasure to me. I have named this game “Gnome-hurl”. Basically, in this game, the boydents and girldents hurl the “gnome” all over taking target practice @ each other. Ohhh!!! I tell you, its pure ecstasy seeing that irritant get thrown about @ will. My joy is unbridled when the gnome gets broken from its midriff…*poetic justice*…the least that it deserves in my view.
Let me now tell you about that great service which the two-footed animal offers to me. Unknowingly, they act as the linkage between me and my beloved. They are the unassuming facilitators of my love story. They are the ones who make my meeting with my beloved possible. The gnomes scratch me, the animals grope me but it’s my beloved who removes the scars. The “Scratch-remover” is what I have love-named him. I exist just to feel its touch on myself. When it comes in contact with me, not only does it remove my scars and scratches, but it completes me. Its touch is smooth and pleasant yet at the same time electric. My nights are never complete without it’s longing invading my thoughts. I endure those marks on my body only because they are the precursor to my rendezvous with my beloved.
That, in a nutshell, is my story.

P.S....This blackboard has had the fortunate/unfortunate honour of being stuck in an engineering classroom....hence "the middle tentacle showing" part...no offence meant to classrooms in general.

P.P.S. Newest member of the Lounge I suppose...will be writing exclusively for this place for sure...but I start with reposting one of my earliest entries on my personal blog...coz it's weekend n this is one of my fav posts ever...C ya!!!

Inaugurating a Public Toilet..!!

(Been out of WL for a long time. Too many things happening too fast in life... hehe :) Will post something exclusive to the lounge soon. Meanwhile here's a re-post from my blog. Have a gr8 weekend.)

“Arjun…Arjunnnnn….. hey idiot Arjunnnn…….” I heard screams at 7 in the morning as my alarm clock had just been exhausted of it’s battery life. As usually I was in the US, sightseeing with Mr. Obama. I mean I was in my dreams. “Abeee Oyeeeeee” someone screamed again.

“Who the hell is that nut head??” I wondered, rolled and dived like an Olympic Gold medalist into the ground bruising my forehead over the floor. I stood up rubbing my head to realize that I was in my bed room and my trip was over. In other words, the night was over.

“Dabba nan magane (useless fellow)…Arjunnnnnnn…” I heard again. I walked to the front door and opened it to find Roshan with his jogging gear on.

“Hi da, what’s up?” I asked which pissed him off like crazy.

“Bloody damn ass. We decided to go jogging today… Don’t you remember?

“Did we? Isn’t it late now? Can we go now?” I enquired in an American accent.

“Yes We Can” he announced like Mr.Obama.

I walked back still rubbing my eyes convincing myself that I was awake now and I was in India. I too put on my jogging gear on, banged the door behind me and said to Roshan who was tying his shoe laces- “Don’t delay man. This is what I hate about you.”
He found a stone and pelted at me. Anyway, we finally hit the road, jogging along towards the park. As we jogged along, we discussed matters varying from national issues like- “If it was NIKE or REEBOK that was pelted at our Home minister” to local issues like- “The best Bunking strategy for the next day’s class.” He then noticed a street dog to his right and hence immediately shifted his position to the left of me. Anyway, we jogged along talking about this and that, though we were occasionally distracted by either very good looking girls or either very bad ones.

As the jogging had come to a halt and we were both puffing with our hands on our knees, we found a huge gathering a few meters ahead of us. The banner said- “Inauguration Of Nirmala Public Toilet.”
At first we thought, Mrs. Nirmala was the owner of this toilet, but then realized that ‘Nirmala’ meant ‘Clean’and not a name. As we read further we learnt that it will be inaugurated by a local MLA. And the most exciting and funny part was that free breakfast would be served after the inauguration. I was picturing a scene on my mind where Roshan runs to the toilet and asks- Is the breakfast ready?



Roshan who was standing with his eyes fixed to the newly built public toilet was lost in thoughts. I dint want to disturb him, so went to check out as to what was getting prepared for breakfast. Nice hot Kesari Bath was getting ready and I returned to Roshan to convey the good news. Roshan still stood staring at the public toilet as if he was staring at an ex-girl friend who’d ditched him. He finally, slowly turned to me and said with a low voice- “Dude, now I really need to go to the toilet.”

“Just by seeing a toilet??”

“Yeah man. That’s my weakness.”

“How tragic!!”

“I’m going in. Urgent” he said and walked towards it. People were tying the ribbon which the MLA was supposed to cut for the inauguration. He pushed a 10 rupee note to a cleaner and entered the toilet from under the ribbon. Meanwhile I walked to the dining area and enquired as to when the breakfast will be ready. Meanwhile, the MLA had arrived and Roshan was still inside the White-House. I climbed a nearby compound wall and watched the scene.

The MLA cut the ribbon and a loud round of applauds made its way. Just then, with ultimate grace, like in a fashion show, Mr.Roshan was seen walking out from inside and everyone looked with their eye brows hooked in amazement. The MLA gaped astonishingly and disgustingly at him in confusion. Roshan mustered a shameless smile and even more shamelessly said- “ Nice Toilet” smiled and hurried out like a sheep.

Anyway, finally we had the Kesari Bath and coffee after which I had to visit the White-House. Later, as we were ready to leave, I announced- “We have just ‘inaugurated’ a public toilet in the true sense of the word. I’m proud.”

Ek Chotti si Love Story..

Pre-script: It's early in the morning. Sandy has come to lavarotaries all dressed up and Neha is setting up her table.Sakhu is yet to come

Neha: Sandy, tu yahan kyun aake baitha hai subah subah?

Tu yahan aata hai to customers tujhe dekhkar bhaag jaate hain!

Sandy: Arey, tu apna kaam kar na.Main yahan meri Sakhu ke liye aaya hoon

Sakhu enters.

Sakhu:good morning neha madam...kashii aahes.haa veda ithe kaay kartoy?

Sandy: Arey Sakhu, yeh veda tere pyaar mein veda ho gaya hai.Tere pyaar mein... main apna naam bhula, yeh subah shaam bhoola.Kya ada kya jalwe tere sakhu... oh sakhu.dil ke tukdon ko kahan main rakhu...

sakhu:chup kar

Sandy:Yeh main nahi... mere dil mein tere liye jo pyaar hai woh bol raha hai

Sakhu: tera pyaar bolta bhi hai kyaaa....... nd vaise mein tu toh chai wala hain.mujhe koi brand manager chahi ye.mera hero brand manager rahega

Sandeep: Arey... tujhe brand manager nahi tujhe sakhu manager mil raha hai..main tujhe mast manage karunga re..I can be your hero baby!!!

Sakhu:tu mera manager .. . aai gaaa kay jhaala tulaa .. .hey vedyaa ......sapne mat dekh

Neha: Sandy, this is my office.not some garden where you can pick up chicks.Go, do your work

and Sakhu... chalo kaam pe

Sandy: Kya Neha.... kabab mein haddi.Sakhu... samjha na isse

Sakhu:madam kya samjau isee....isse mere basti mein 1 din le chalu kyaa ......mere gunde dosto se milati hun ...yeh apne aap chup ho jayega

Neha: (giggles) Arey, yeh achcha rahega

Sandy: Sakhu... main teri basti mein nahi, tere dil mein entry maarna chahta hoon.(Sandy takes out garam garam jalebis and gajras)

Sandy: Yeh tere liye sakhu... aa main in gajron ko tere baalon mein laga doo.

sakhu : (shows her broom)...chup kar ...tu neha madam ko chai pilaa idhar

mein jaati kaam karne

Sandy: ruk jaana oh jaana humse do baatein karke chali jaana

Sakhu :chal futt ... leh 2 baat

(Sakhu walks away...)

Sandy: Neha.... kuch kar na.meri love story bana de naa

Neha: hmmm... okay

(to be continued)

2 Point Someone..!! - 9

Note- All characters in the story are fictitious. Though we have used some real names, its just intended for fun. So no hard feelings.:) And thanks to Ste for the cartoon.

You can catch the previous parts by clicking on the cartoon on the right hand sidebar of the blog. Enjoy

“Paulomi….aha.. aha…. I like her…aha ….aha….,” Mr.Sandeep danced like a chicken with his eyes glued on to the television.
“Siirrrr, prograaaaaam?” Ste and RJ sang the question in unison. Mr. Sandeep didn’t respond as his mind was singing duets and running around trees with Paulomi. He jumped out of his sofa and kneeled down in front of the TV resembling a dog with his protruded tongue and pop-corn like eyes. RJ, like a cinema hero of 1940, said- “ Ste beta! Leave it to me. I’ll handle the matter” and walked in front of Mr. Sandeep, stood there resting his hands on his hips, blocking Mr. Sandeep’s view of the television. Mr. Sandeep, like a mad dog, pounced on to RJ, clasped his waist belt, lifted him and threw him aside and reverted back to his doggy posture as if biscuits were thrown out from the TV. “ Paulomi....aha…..aha…. I like her..…aha….aha…” he continued. Ste, looking at RJ’s bruised nose and started laughing like crazy. “Now, see, I’ll handle the matter.” Ste said raising his eye-brow. He grabbed the TV remote and changed the channel. Mr. Sandeep, as if chilly powder was blown onto his face turned in slow motion towards Ste with a “grrrr…”. Just then, his mind got diverted back to the television. Now Mr. Rajnikanth was dancing for the tunes of- “ Adhaan da..idhaan da…Arunachalam naan thaan da..” Mr. Sandeep kissed Ste on his cheeks, ripped open his own shirt with the buttons popping out like bullets, tied it to his waist and began dancing like Ganguly- “ Adhaan da.. idhaan da..Sandeep Balan nan thaan daa..” Ste, wiping his cheeks with a tissue paper, came to RJ and said- “ This person is useless man. Lets think of some other alternative to get the program.”
“ahh..!! my nose….!!Lets first get out of this place.” RJ suggested for which Ste agreed without second thoughts. They both pulled the door open and left just as KINGS, who was there stitching polka dotted boxers, was on the verge of buttoning out his shirt to join Mr. Sandeep Balan for the dance.



Both RJ and Ste rushed out of his building, took in some fresh air and began walking, sketching out how to get the Computer program that they were to submit to Mr. Riversoul the next day. Ste all of sudden stopped walking and wore an expression as if he was calculating what was 3542435*3432. He snapped his fingers and said- “Idea.”

RJ- “ Don’t act like a buffoon, come back to normal and tell me what’s the idea?”

Ste felt shameless, came back to normalcy and told- “ Lets go to RiverSoul sir’s home now and beg him to give us more time. If not, we’ll blackmail him that we saw him taking tuitions from Prats.”

RJ- “ That mad guy RiverSoul?? The guy who left his soul in the river?? I’m not coming. You go.”

Ste- “Now, you don’t act like a buffoon. Come. Lets go.”

RJ, now shamelessly said- “Okay” as if his vocal chord was stolen.

They both walked to Mr. RiverSoul’s house. As they reached the house, they observed that the house looked like one of those houses used for ghost movies. As they slowly slid the gate open, they heard male screams of- “Hevppp…Hevppp…choor chooorr...bachaoooo…vachaoo..”

“Mummy! Bhoooot.” Ste jumped behind RJ.

“It sounds like Mr. RiverSoul’s voice, man.” RJ observed.

“Yeah. It sounds like that.” Ste confirmed, peeping from above RJ’s shoulder. RJ once again, like a cinema hero of 1940 said- “Come on. We have to save him” and ran to the door, kicked it open and entered in as Ste followed him. They ran to the large hall, but found everything normal, no item was touched. They then ran to the bedroom where they found the lockers untouched too. Not even a flower vase was disturbed. “What kind of a robbery is this?” Ste whispered. “Yeah. In a rich man’s house, the thieves are not even interested in the locker! What is it that is more attractive in this house?” RJ exclaimed.

Meanwhile they heard sounds like- “ Aaavvvvv….aouuuuu” like a wolf’s howl from the next room. RJ and Ste breezed through the door into the room and found that Mr. Riversoul laid flat on the floor, and two masked men were sitting on his chest with cutting pliers in their hands. “My goldennnn teeeeeeth.” Mr. Riversoul screamed. Ste, even in this serious situation started to laugh- “They are stealing your golden teeth??? Hahahahahaaaaa…”

But RJ, our hero, pounced on the two masked men, held their collars- “ You bloody rascalas. How dare you steal teeth from our computer teacher who has forgotten his soul in the river?” Meanwhile Ste, got some seriousness, grabbed a long stick and ran, screaming aloud- “ aaaaaaaa………” and tried to whack the two thieves but the whack landed straight on RJ’s back. “Oucchh…. Abe saaale.. hit them not me.”

Ste-“ Sorry bro.” He, this time landed two whacks on those two thieves. The thieves, tightened their monkey masks, pushed and locked Ste into the bathroom and escaped in a whisker. RJ stood up rubbing his back, unlocked the bathroom door to find Ste setting his hair, kicked him- “ Idiot.... My back.” Both RJ and Ste then walked to Mr. RiverSoul, who hugged them, thanked them, stood up and walked to the mirror to check out the casualties in his mouth. Though his teeth resembled the ‘Leaning Tower Of Pisa’, he was glad that none were stolen. “Sir, we came here to ask you for permission to let us attend classes tomorrow. We aren’t able to complete the computer program sir.”

“Oh my two golden darlings! You saved my precious teeth…. Shit.. I mean- Oh my two precious darlings! You saved my golden teeth. Forget about the punishment. Come to college tomorrow.”

“Thank you Sir.” Both RJ and Ste left and were now back on the streets.

As they walked along boasting about each other’s heroics, they spotted an advertisement on a compound wall right next to the –“ Do not pass urine here” poster as- “Sandeep Malan’s acting classes.”

“Hey, Sandeep Malan, our princi’s twin brother.!!” Ste jumped excitedly. RJ began to picture himself as a film hero kicking out the baddies and said- “ We shall join Ste. Note the address.”

As a long day came to an end, with bruises here and there, they both walked back home envisioning the silver lining- Sandeep Malan’s acting classes.

Jai 'Sita-Sene'..!!

(Finally back to my normal ways!!)

Reading the newspaper as a first thing in the morning isn’t a great idea, trust me. It was a lovely morning that day, the 14th of February, a day of profits for the ‘Archies’. The previous night, I was enlightened by a business plan. In pursuit of anything red and resembling a heart, my eyes almost popped out like popcorn onto my ex-pillow. On a mission- “Steal the knife from the kitchen”, I crawled into the kitchen, but was late to realize that mom was as sharp as the knife. My business ambitions were pounded into the gutter. Anyway, that’s a long tragic useless story. Back to the present, I picked up the newspaper and read on- “ Sanjay Dutt enters politics.” In India, you can commit a crime and have grandchildren before you’ll be punished. My ever-vigilant mind began picturing a silly court scene inside my head- “ In a courtroom, the lawyer asks- “What were you upto on that fateful day on the 23rd of March 1960, Mr.X?” Mr.X replies- “ I was playing ‘ball’ with my grandfather, Sir.” The judge intervenes- “ What were you up to last week when the notice was sent, Mr.X?” Mr X coughs and replies- “ I was playing ‘ball’ with my grandson, your honour.””

Anyway, I moved onto the next headline- “ We will marry off any couples found together in public today- Mr.Muthalik, Rama-Sene chief.” I began to think about concepts like ‘Time saving’, ‘Money saving’, ‘energy saving’ and so on, but then I kicked myself, passed the paper to mom and breezed into the bathroom to get ready for college. Came out, found a T-shirt on which some nice words were intelligently written- “fcuk.” If I was as brave as I appeared to be, I would have changed it to- “fcuk muthakil.” Anyway, as I finished breakfast and was jumping onto my bike, my mom came and told me- “ Why not skip college today? We can go out somewhere.”

“What?” which appeared more like a joint question of- ‘Why? Whats the reason? Whats wrong? It’s not April 1st today….’

“Just simply. Getting bored.”

“No thanks mom. Go out with your lovely daughter. Cya” I sped away.

I reached Roshan’s place. That damn fellow was like the ‘kanjoos of the millennium’ types. I had to take him to college though he had a bike, but because his bike drank a lot more petrol. Anyway, I entered his home, his mom smiled at me though I wasn’t sure if that was artificial or genuine, I found a seat and the same newspaper. “What’s the weather forecast for today dude?” Roshan screamed from his room as if he was preparing for some ‘Mission Impossible’. I checked it to find- ‘Clear skies. Avg- 32degrees’. I screamed back- “Carry your Rain-Coat, dude.”
After his ‘dressing-up’, he came by and sat next to me to finish his coffee. As always I wondered if he had taken bath with water or perfume.

His mom passed me another cup of coffee and said to Roshan and me- “ Why don’t you guys skip college today and stay back at home. I’m preparing carrot halwa today.”

Roshan replied with the same- “What” exactly the way I did to my mom. When did parents in India start saying things like– ‘Bunk College my boy’, I thought.

“No ma. We have an important presentation to make today. Can’t skip.” He replied like Mr. Scholar.

“What presentation, Roshan?” I asked with a tone.

He came close and whispered- “Fuck you. Just shut up.”

Meanwhile, his mom was getting vexed and said- “ you both are staying back, that’s all.”

“No ma” our scholar replied again. Roshan walked out of the house like how a disappointed boss walks out of a staff meeting. As I too began to walk out, his mom came and enquired softly- “Does he have a girl-friend? He’s acting weird nowadays.”

“No aunty, don’t worry.” I said and walked out perplexed to the bike and we left. Only as we rode along that I could paint the actual picture. I could now come to terms with the weird behaviour of both our moms. The moms didn’t want their sons to come back home with wives. Just then, I got a call from my mom.

“Hello. You reached college? Just called to find out.” She enquired innocently.

“No ma. Someone from ‘Rama-Sene’ it seems. They’ve caught me and a girl who was with me. Now they are taking us somewhere ma.”

“What? Where are you? What the hell? Whats happening? Dint you go to college? I told you to stay back…..” and another billion questions pounced on me at a time.

“Relax mom. Just kidding. I don’t have a girl friend.”
She got the point, laughed and then we disconnected. I explained all this Roshan but he could understand it only after three repetitions. He called up his mom (of course with my phone) and tried to play the same prank I tried to play with my mom, it became a perfect flop show as his mom exhibited her verbal skills and it finally took my intervention to claim calm and peace.

At that very moment, Roshan announced- “Dude this is unfair. We all have to do something. Something soon. We shall organize dharnas, strikes…..” he went on. And finally he said- “ We shall start an organization contradicting Muthalik’s ‘Rama-Sene’. We shall call ours ‘Sita-Sene’.” So ‘Sita-Sene’ was formed and inaugurated by yours truly and as expected it lasted for less than half a day.

One hour later, a ‘spark-plug’ resembling Roshan had lost all his spark as he feared to even talk to girls that day making them wonder if his head was alright. By the end of the day, he resembled a punctured tube as his mom sighed relief that she was lucky enough to not meet her daughter-in-law yet. I, in the meanwhile, like Mr.India spent my evening in a temple with my paranoia struck mom.

2 Point Someone..!! part- 7

Note- All characters in the story are fictitious. Though we have used some real names, its just intended for fun. So no hard feelings.:) And thanks to Ste for the cartoon.

You can catch the previous parts by clicking on the cartoon on the right hand sidebar of the blog. Enjoy

RJ had not observed the board- “Beware Of Dogs,” but Ste was fully aware of what was written on it. RJ walked to the window, when he heard loud music from inside and peeped through it. Kajal was dancing for the tunes of- “ Dola re Dola re Dola…..” from Devdas. Ste too came up and bounced in a peep. They both started laughing, emanating sounds like that of a truck with starting problems. Their laugh ride stopped when they heard a “Grrrrr…grrrrr…..grrrrr” from behind. Ste could immediately sense where that sound came from, while RJ’s picturing was on a different planet altogether. He stared at Ste disgustingly. Ste returned a look suggesting- “It was not me.” Before they could start an argument, they heard the- “Grrr…grrr…grrr..” all over again. They both turned around together to find a black, well-built, apparently feral dog with shiny eyes and white teeth. Ste tried to act brave and stepped forward. RJ interrupted- “Wait” resting his hands over Ste’s shoulder. “We must treat animals with love, Ste” RJ announced and smiled at the dog as if he was the dog’s girlfriend/boyfriend. The dog too stepped further and let out a loud bark- “ Bhowwwww….” RJ’s smile evaporated and it turned into a face drowned with fear. Ste, who observed all this, whispered to RJ- “ I think this dog goes to the gym, man. Look at it’s body.” Ste stumbled upon to some idea, which he got from some stupid movie and said to RJ- “ Now, you wait and watch Mister RJ.” He stepped forward precociously with contrived anger written all over his face and with his mouth instantly firing a scary- “ Bhoww… Bhowww…” while he made an action as if to stone the dog. The dog didn’t budge, instead got pissed and retracted by stepping two paces towards Ste, barked “Bhoww..Bhoww..Bhowwwwwwww..” louder this time and vindictively exhibited it’s devilish teeth with another- “ Grr..grrr.grrr..” Ste stepped back and let a low voiced- “Meaow” and shut his mouth. RJ observed that Ste was shivering with fear. Ste’s actions duplicated Micheal Jackson’s dance steps, RJ thought.



RJ’s bulb in his head ignited as he got an idea. He recollected the poster outside the gate, which said- “ Just sms HELP to 03533 anytime and stepMAN (Superheroes ka baap) would be there within minutes.” He did so promptly leaving the address along with it. Within minutes, they observed stepMAN approaching from the sky like a descending rocket. By the glimpses they captured of stepMAN, they concluded that he looked confused and tense. StepMAN, who sped downwards, forgot how to apply brakes and hence crashed into the ground, which literally lurched the dog and these two. The dog, which initially ran away, came back running towards stepMAN who was now fallen flat on the ground. RJ and Ste looked at each other’s pissed off faces, while kajal who was inside still had no clue about the events unfolding outside and continued imitating Madhuri Dixit with- “ Dola re Dola re..”
StepMAN seemed to be unconscious but his entwined tail made ‘slow- motion’ movements as if like waving the white flag. RJ and Ste were glad to realize that stepMAN hadn’t gone to hell yet. Ste had wondered if stepMAN- Superheroes ka baap had now become- stepMAN- Superheroes ka paap. Anyway, the dog then circled stepMAN thrice and started to lick the pictures of the fruits that were printed on stepMAN’s boxers. RJ and Ste sensed this was the best time to escape and they did so implacably without caring a damn about stepMAN.

They exchanged a high-five and walked along. “Did you piss in your pants?” RJ asked Ste. Ste shot back- “ Shut up, idiot. I at least tried. You acted like a gay.” They began fighting like school children. In between the fight, out of nowhere, Ste suggested- “ Hey we shall at least go to Chirag’s house and get the notes.”

“Good Idea” reciprocated RJ.

After a long walk, they reached Chirag’s house, which looked more like a temple. They launched a search in and around the gates to see if there was a “Beware Of Dogs” board. There wasn’t any and hence they decided to enter in. Ste pictured in his mind, a board- “Beware Of Chirag” and laughed to himself. RJ observed this and wondered if Ste was bit by that mad dog or something. Anyway, they had this bad habit of peeping through the window. They both approached and peeped through the window and saw that Chirag was standing upside down. He stood on his head with his toes pointing the ceiling. RJ and Ste observed inquisitively with their eyes and mouths wide open. He then released himself from that posture and walked to the nearby pooja room and began chanting mantras. RJ and Ste who were amazed by this, planned to play a game with Chirag.

They crawled to the door, rang the bell and ran away behind the bushes to watch the scene secretly. Chirag promptly came out to see, but went back disappointed and angry. Ste and RJ repeated the act again and ran to the bushes. This time, the angry Chirag had come with a cane to see who the idiots were. “He would have bashed us man.” Ste said to RJ and they both giggled. They repeated the act once again, that too with two rings this time and ran back behind the bush. As and when they hid themselves, awe struck them when they saw their hindi professor Mr.Tan (Chirag’s favourite) walk into the gate towards the door. He walked slowly and reached the door and was about to ring the bell. Chirag, meanwhile with a bigger cane this time approached the door in full speed and crash opened the door. RJ and Ste closed their eyes.