Daily humor

2016-04-22T01:22:00.001+05:30

Now blogging at http://www.hornokaub.com with the wife. Give it a visit, won't you?

When your profile pic looks away

2014-06-12T13:21:00.000+05:30

Product review: L'Oreal Men Expert White Activ Whitening Moisturing Fluid

2013-12-30T06:33:00.002+05:30

(Posted at: http://www.amazon.in/gp/product/B004JOB5IE/)

I was sceptical. It isn't everyday that you find a product that seems to speak out to you. But the 'L'Oreal Men Expert White Activ Whitening Moisturing Fluid' caught my eye when I was harmlessly walking down the street.

Before I used this, I woke up every day of my semi-interesting life with a particular kind of tightness in my skin. This tightness sometimes got so bad that my eyeballs protruded and attractive women and most animals in general looked at me in a kind of disgust. The natural resistance in my skin had waned. The mealnin had stopped being produced. Sometimes I looked up at the moon and felt jealous. It had less dark spots than my pitiful face. Most days my skin was drier than wickets in Mumbai where even Harbhajan Singh took wickets. Because of all these reasons, I had difficulties getting good hits at my profile on shaadi.com, bharatmatrimony and even Google Plus. But those dark days are now behind me.

That fateful night, I applied this cream. On my face.

The next morning, I was in a hurry, so I just left the house without tending to my tight face. As I got out of my house, my 22 year-old neighbour Neha who is an airhostess and professional pole dancer said hello to me. She kissed me on the cheek before I got into the lift. This was strange, because she had never noticed me before. At work, three of my hottest female colleagues were pulled by HR for sexual harassment because of the constant ogling and flirting with me. Even my boss noticed my good work, and smacked by buttocks before announcing the news of my promotion and my new corner office. It was an unbelievable day.

In the evening, the rowdy children playing downstairs hit their plastic cricket ball towards my face. Since I was busy trying to avoid the Bollywood actresses who had gathered under our colony to see me, I didn't notice the ball speeding towards a spot under my left eye, where my dark oiliness usually coagulated. But then something strange happened.

The daily aggression of the cricket ball was propelled by the soothing active ingredient from 'L'Oreal Men Expert White Activ Whitening Moisturing Fluid'. The ball was returned right into play where the batsman responsible for the shot was poetically run out!

When I went home, I saw myself in the mirror and I almost called the police to report the handsome man in the mirror. But I didn't. Here stood a new man (me) - incredibly handsome, whitened, with untight skin on his face, all this with a fluid texture! I shuddered to imagine what would happen in four weeks!

Now I live the good life. I have de-registered from the aforementioned marriage sites, they are just spam to me. No one still looks at my Google Plus profile, but that's probably because it's a Google Plus profile.

I quit my job to follow my passion. I'm a world-famous batsman who doesn't fear a single fast bowler in the world. I don't even need a bat. I just play with my face.

Thank you, L'Oreal Men Expert White Activ Whitening Moisturing Fluid for changing my life. Try it, it might change yours too.

The ODI retirement of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar

2012-12-24T00:18:00.001+05:30

All the recent happenings notwithstanding, it's sad that I won't ever again watch Sachin Tendulkar walk out in India's colours, nor see his name on the scoreboard for a one-day international. I won't ever again feel the anticipation of him walking out to open the innings, squinting at the sky to get his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. I won't wonder if he's going to help us achieve that huge total, get us off to a flying start. His lustre and that of the one-day format might have diminished in recent years, but when I was growing up it his batting in the one-dayers was the most entertaining thing you could watch.

Thank you, Sachin, for all the years we secretly woke up to watch matches in Australia, for the years we stayed late watching you bat in the Caribbean. For the all the times we switched off our TV when you were declared out, because we cared less about the team's chances than about your performances. Not that the two were very disconnected. Thank you for your batsmanship, for standing up to the world's best fast bowlers, spinners and for your cliched lines at so many presentation ceremonies. "It's the team that matters", you've said. It did, it does. But not every die-hard fan of you always thought like that. Your poetry mattered, your ability to whoop ass mattered, your centuries mattered, your records mattered.

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, thank you for being a huge part of my generation's childhood. Fare thee well, old man.

Three weeks without a smartphone

2012-10-31T18:31:00.000+05:30

I thought I'd give it a shot. In the ghostspace between the wait for a new smartphone and the sale of my old one, I experimented with going back to the early 2000's - I used a phone that could only make calls and send messages. And double up as a flashlight. Here's what came of my attempt to live the old days in the new.

Sold my old smartphone. Waiting for a new one. #FirstWorldProblems

The hardest thing was being on the crapper. I just sat there, carrying out nature's business. Gone were the millions of possible apps I could download from app markets. Forgotten was the evil joy of killing all apps lurking in memory even at the cost of general system instability. No more being in touch with the news of the world and labored tweets of attempted humor. Instead I had a grand total of three choices: staring at my thighs, staring at the door or trying to telekinetically move my shoelaces. The only smartphone action that survived was the swipe. After the job was done.

It goes unnoticed how quiet interaction with our personal rectangles of light has become. This became apparent to me when I tried to use my dumbphone in a long meeting to reply to an sms or play the ultimate game of intelligence, skill and conviction - sudoku. Those situations turned into unfortunate Mr Bean episodes. I played the guy who made loud noises, oblivious to the knitted eyebrows and pursed lips of displeasure around me. On occasion, I've even had to go back to attending meetings again.

The lack of social apps also left me feeling a wee bit unsocial. I once traveled in a bus trying my best to focus at the gap between four faces. I've had to wear a fake smile on my not pretty face through 10-11 floors of slow elevator ascent. Strangers aside, people like my brother always accuse me of not responding to their one-word (usually a childhood twist on an expletive) instant messages.

It's not been an easy three weeks, but it ends tomorrow. And brings with it one realization - I'm too dumb to go without a smartphone again.

What do you think - can you live without your smartphone? Leave a comment below.

The Large Hardon Collider Ballad

2012-08-09T17:30:00.001+05:30

Song #3: Not suitable for work or children. Enjoy!

Maushichi G*** - the remix

2012-07-11T09:30:00.000+05:30

I created a track and remixed the Maushichi G*** to it.
You can also download the original track here: Maushichi G*** soundtrack

Our second music video: White Collar Molar Killer / Bakin' bacon (Heavy metal bacon song)

2012-06-28T09:30:00.000+05:30

Maybe, you don't really like heavy metal. Maybe you are a Coldplay fan. We don't care. we welcome you to subscribe to our Youtube channel and enjoy our bacon song.
Please subscribe if you like it:

Our Debut Music Video!

2012-06-19T13:07:00.000+05:30

Wondering what I've been busy with recently? No? Well, THAT'S NOT VERY NICE!

Anyway, for those who care (there has to be someone!), I've been getting back in touch with music, the guitar in particular. I'm part of an awesome band: Experimetal.
Please do 'like' our page to get the latest updates.

And here's our first music video!

Please feel free to replay many thousand times, like, share and do all kinds of other nice things to it.

Sssh

2012-05-11T05:37:00.000+05:30

Since I've nothing to say, here's something. Please share, like, comment. Please.

At least listen.

A ton of tons

2012-03-17T03:47:00.002+05:30

I don't get it. It's an awesome career. He's given us years of entertainment. But what is it with this '100 100s' nonsense? It's not even a milestone. It was never even a record. It's like one of those weird obsessions with times and dates: 'It will never be 11-11-11 ever in your life ever again'. What next - 50,000 balls faced? 1 million minutes of breathing on a cricket field? 10000 guard adjustments?

Enjoy the man, the sport and get over the orgasming over random numbers.

Porto, Oporto!

2012-03-12T09:30:00.000+05:30

Below is a (modified) reproduction of my travel article on Porto that first appeared in Mint here:

The São Bento station’s delicately painted blue tiles depicted scenes from Portugal’s history. As we walked ahead, sombre stone buildings glistened in the light of dusk like grumpy old men judging my actions. And I felt guilty. Guilty of not expecting more, guilty of not doing my homework before the trip. I avoided their gaze as we walked from the station to our hotel through the historic centre of the city of Porto that has been around since the fourth century. I knew then that this visit was going to be about more than just port wine.

A painting at the São Bento station

I admit that when I thought of visiting Portugal, Lisbon was the first city that came to mind. Maybe it was my terrible knowledge of world geography, or the many Lisboetas I had met, but I had never considered Porto as a destination. Two things changed my mind—some cajoling by friends from Porto, and a good low-cost carrier deal.

Porto offered us many ways to move through its winding roads and along its sliding slopes: metro, bus, cable car, funicular, tram. The funicular provided a great perspective, and the bus was useful when we got lost after being chased by an aggressive alms-seeking lady. The throbbing of a city’s heart, however, is best felt by walking through it, and so, we walked.

We walked through the market—reminiscent of Indian mandis, with familiar spices and fruits. The modern Casa da Música music building and the Santa Catarina mall felt like anachronisms, when contrasted with the old buildings that line the Avenue dos Aliados. Christmas was just over, but the nip in the air, the lights in the streets and the roasted chestnuts sold everywhere made the season linger.

Porto at night

Almost every special sight in Porto was punctuated by either the river or the ocean. The city is situated where the Douro river meets the Atlantic Ocean in an estuary, these two large water bodies seemingly making a pact to keep the city under their protection. This view also made the ascent of the Clérigos Church tower well worth the €2 (around Rs 130) entry fee and the hundred-and-something steps it took to get there.

Port!

We took a tour of one of the wine cellars at the ribeira (the riverside), including a sampling of their wines at the end. I learnt more about port and I appreciated the many varieties, but for me port still means the sweet Ruby port of my childhood, the one that underlines so many Christmas memories of dinner with family. As children, we were allowed to taste a little bit of this wine, and I had never at that time imagined I would be in Portugal, visiting its home.

The ribeira was a microcosm with its own identity. The river transports the only genuine port wines in the world, from the vineyards to the cellars by its banks.

The narrow alleys that led down a slope to the river were like little rivulets flowing into the Douro. By day, they bore witness to the daily humdrum of life in Porto. Houses wore clotheslines on their walls. People met on the corner over a café. Old folks looked out of their windows in thought or boredom or both, as they do throughout the world.

At night, these streets were thrilling, adventurous, dark. The lit-up logos of Porto’s famous wine houses lay scattered across the landscape, each shining like Portugal’s own version of the “Hollywood” sign. “The city of bridges” was in all its glory, with the bridges like an illuminated finger of a giant hand, connecting Porto to Gaia, the other side.

Taking in a city’s history and culture is incomplete without ingesting some of its cuisine, and that we did extensively. My first lunch in Porto was a francesinha. If I could eat only one thing in Porto, this would be it.

The Francesinha!

Every bite made me feel that I would soon be full, but I still kept eating, because the francesinha—slices of bread stuffed with ham, sausages, beef, topped with melted cheese, a fried egg, and served in a sauce made from beer, with a generous side of fries—is not something I would easily find again. Francesinha translates to “little French girl”, but it is anything but dainty, delicate, or giggling. Other versions exist, but even a friend from Lisbon confessed this was the best he’d ever eaten. I washed it down with a panache—a blend of the local beer and 7UP.

Experiencing Porto cuisine would not have been complete without the codfish (bacalhau). Unlike most other fish, this is cooked after it is salted, stored, and then de-salted by soaking in water for a few days. There was also tripas—soup with stomach or intestines of cow as its main ingredient, along with sausages (chouriço), a sow’s ear, lard, some other parts, and white beans thrown in for good measure.

Porto has a sweet tooth and the egg tart (pastel de nata) is a well-known pastry. I had many a quick bite in coffee houses there without burning a hole in my wallet. I will never forget the torrada, my most favoured breakfast. I noticed two old ladies next to us ordering it, and although I’m not a big believer in ESP (extra sensory perception), there was a sense of prescience about the torrada. It was just bread toasted with salted butter, but it was special because my earliest memories of breakfast are those of bread toasted in Amul butter, dunked in sweet tea with milk— an occasional quick breakfast from a working mother. The first bite of the torrada was my own Ratatouille moment. Another day in Porto, another childhood memory revisited.

Portugal is one of the most religious countries in Europe, and Fatima, a major Catholic shrine, is a couple of hours from Porto. Apart from a square, which is bigger than the Vatican’s, there is also a radically modern church in Fátima that feels like a giant auditorium. It is a flat building with 12 massive doors, one representing each of the 12 apostles. We stopped by in Coimbra, one of the oldest universities in Europe, on our way to Fátima. The university library is an ornate work of art and is considered to be one of the most beautiful in the world. It even has a prison attached to it. Yes, you read that right—a students’ prison.

Any visitor to Porto will find the city endearing. I had moments where I felt a deep connection with it, which is not common in a strange city. I can only hope that one day I will visit Porto again, and relive the charm of this city by the Douro.

Karki romeo

2012-01-13T03:16:00.000+05:30

Hey!

Hi!

No, nothing special.

Ok here's something. A blast from past. The B-school days. Vocals by roomie extraordinaire Abu Sahabuddin, guitar by self.

Bye!

Dog person

2011-12-13T23:15:00.000+05:30

Yes, I'm a dog person.

And I love this video.

Dogs in Cars from keith on Vimeo. (Found this on Gizmodo)

At least someone's doing something about corruption

2011-08-17T09:15:00.001+05:30

As a blogger, sometimes I find others' writing is inspiring; sometimes I find it so good that it freezes me. This piece by Girish Shahane is one such piece. How beautifully he blends an opinion piece with a movie review with current affairs!

I echo Girish's views on the whole Anna Hazare movement as well. Holding the government hostage based on a squeaky clean image and good intentions is just not on. Anna's call for a government strike and his latest move are just as bad as the government not allowing Anna the right to a peaceful protest. This is aside from the fact that the Lokpal bill itself isn't going to solve all our problems -- it may even exacerbate them.

We're a little desperate as a country and I can understand why. Corruption at the highest level is a malaise, but corruption at the lowest level is what we face in our daily lives. Here there still lies scope for introspection. We can avoid paying bribes because jobs get done quicker. We can do our best in our daily lives to avoid corruption. I have seen some of my compatriots who come to Europe, bending every rule in the book without compunction because it's easy to do so, even in an environment that doesn't call for it. Maybe we can start by ridding ourselves of these habits.

Do I know that Lokpal will definitely fail? No. It's possible that the sheer momentum of the anti-corruption voice may cause the Lokpal Bill to be successful to begin with, and with more amendments, lead us to a future with lesser corruption. The subject of corruption is a complex one with many variables, and I don't pretend to know all the answers. But a flawed idea isn't a good place to start, even if it comes with the best intentions.

The best context for me to say 'At least someone's doing something about it' is where the 'someone' refers to myself.

Three deaths, three versions

2011-08-12T09:05:00.003+05:30

In the UK riots recently, three men were tragically run over and killed while protecting their property. This is where I read it first: BBC - Three killed protecting property during Birmingham riots.

When I saw it on Hindustan Times, I almost didn't recognize it. It was titled: 3 Asians killed, fear of race violence in Britain.

Curious, I decided to check out Dawn.com. And, of course, this is how it was titled: Slaying of 3 Muslims lays bare divisions.

Interesting isn't it, how death in rioting can be covered so differently?

An interview with a semi-retired part-time blogger

2011-06-16T19:55:00.000+05:30

What happens when you don't blog in a really long time? Why, you get interviewed, of course!

Blogadda was kind enough to publish my rambling as an interview on their site. Please do have a looksee: Interview at Blogadda.

Now excuse me while I polish my famousness.

Travelogue - Prague

2011-06-05T13:59:00.000+05:30

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging so much recently is the crazyspringsummer travelling that has been undertaken. Finally, as I get some breathing space at home in Pune, here's a short travelogue I wrote on the Wanderers' blog recently on Prague.

Most people will tell you that Paris, London, Berlin, Rome one of the other well-known cities is the most beautiful in Europe. While it's not easy to make a categorical statement about it, my recent trip to Prague put it right up there with the best in the continent. (Disclaimer: I haven't come close to seeing all the cities in Europe, but have seen a few.)

Prague is a very underrated city in the sense that it's not usually the first place to come to mind when one talks about Europe. However, friends who had visited Prague vouched for it and this was my impetus to visit the city.

The municipal house by day

The beautiful ceiling of the municipal house

Once the center of the world, Prague today again is a bustling city. It has seen many rulers in its time, and it's only since 1989 - when Czechoslovakia became a democracy that Prague took off as a tourist destination. The city has some gorgeous monuments, great architecture and one of the most thriving classical music scenes in Europe. The gorgeous Jewish quarter, the old town square, the river side of Vlatva are just some of the main attractions of the city. I was also fortunate enough to to experience the exceptional Royal Philharmonic perform Mozart and Strauss at the lovely Municipal House. I'm no classical music afficionado, but these guys were real professionals. The ballet and singing also added to the experience, but for me the music was the standout aspect.

I'm reliably told that Prague has a great nightlife, but sadly that's not my thing. Whatever be the status of Prague the party place, Prague the city, is breathtaking at night. No photograph does justice to the skyline as you walk along the river - the castle on a hill in the distance, the illuminated buildings and bridges.

The Prague Castle by night

Pork Goulash with white bread dumplings

The food wasn't spectacular in the Italian sense of the word. But it was very good. We went to a restaurant named after Marie Antoinette's mother (go figure), which we were told serves traditional Czech food. Although we did play it safe by ordering pork goulash and a solid Czech beer, the food was wholesome, the meat tender, the service hospitable and the Medovnik (a honey cake topped with crushed walnuts) a delight. The white bread dumplings served alongside the bread reminded me of sannas served at Mangalorean dinners, to be had with a curry. There are also local liqueurs to be had such as the Becherovka flavoured with cinnamon, anise seed and more herbs.

Worm spirit (No, I didn't have any)

The people. Hmm... that's an interesting one. Perhaps because I travelled from the Netherlands, the people came across as not particularly friendly. They weren't courteous, but were never really rude either. They didn't smile so much, but the fact that they don't speak much English also adds to the distance. But at no point did we feel unwelcome or unsafe, even though we walked in the city till past midnight. I read only after my trip that the city has some problems with pickpocketing. Thankfully I didn't experience it first hand.

It's also a relatively cheap city as far as Europe goes, especially for food and drink, although I have heard of restaurants overcharging people by charging them double tax as well as taxi drivers taking tourists for a ride. One thing you shouldn't try to do in Prague is try to pronounce all the names. Many words and names sound like they are missing vowels, but don't tell the locals that. They probably know their spellings.

All in all, Prague's a gorgoeus city - worth visiting and spending time in. I know I'm going there a second time!

The world according to Shahid Afridi

2011-04-04T18:19:00.000+05:30

Original heart pic courtesy: www.fallingpixel.com

Cricket Cup World Cup Cricket Cup World Cup

2011-04-03T02:14:00.000+05:30

It's an honour to watch this man lead our team with such dignity and poise.

It's been a joy to watch this man bat and conduct himself the way he has for the past 21 years. I don't know if I will be able to watch cricket when he bows out.

It's historic to have witnessed this. I can die happy now.

What a World Cup it's been - India were favourites going into it and came out on top. I'd never have guessed that we could withstand so much pressure, but an Indian fan is never pessimistic (or even realistic) about these things. Thank you Indian cricket team for all the memories.

For those of you saying this isn't a 'World Cup', 17.5% of the world's population parties tonight (Credit: Friend on Facebook). If that isn't a World Cup, I don't know what is.

PS: If you don't know what the subject of this blog post is all about, you missed the song of the cup.

Correlation between Facebook status crypticness and attention starvation

2011-01-29T16:14:00.000+05:30

A farewell rhyme for 2010

2010-12-31T21:01:00.000+05:30

Scams of epic proportions in India,
Silence and then much noise on matters Radia.
Apple ne humko iPad diya.
And that Kalmadi fellow, he made lakhs ya.

Arundathi put the sexy into secede,
We saw Ayodhya play it safe and proceed,
Then Obama graced us with his presence,
As Nithyananda seduced people with incense
And the Pope fought issues with nonsense.

We were left wondering,
As we confused causation with correlation,
Do we call the rich man 'king'?
Or is the richest man called Raja, by conflation.
Oh yeah, and we also had serious inflation.

Somehow we still completed the CWG,
And before that, the DLF IPL 3.
But in neither case was the follow-up very good,
Suresh and Shashi were not sufficiently screwed.
Manmohan Singh just nodded his head and stood.

Sachin's run machine was at its strongest ever,
And the world came down with World Cup fever,
There once was a dog called Spot,
And just for fixing it, poor Pakistan were caught.
Again Manmohan did nought.

The Indian blogosphere scales new heights,
As rameshsrivats puns and krishashok writes.
(Heck, the latter even has soundbytes.)
We can now make any topic trend,
And even break media silence in the end.

Assange's leaks made headlines everywhere,
For top secret documents and then for a condom tear.
If you're leaking, you might as well leak some runs,
And give Sachin half a ton of tons.

And so 2010 is done.
If only 2011 is half as much fun.
Because anyway in 2012, we're all done.
Happy MMXI everyone.

A personal appeal from Jimmy Wales

2010-12-04T19:18:00.000+05:30

An extremely personal, Wikipedia-style appeal from Jimmy Wales.

But seriously though, give to Wikipedia. It's probably the best sort of charity you can do. You use it like it's free, don't you?

Radia silence

2010-12-03T05:13:00.000+05:30

You will notice that there was considerable silence about the Barkha Dutt - Radia tapes controversy on this blog. That's because there's been a general silence on this blog.

That notwithstanding, Barkha Dutt made a big mistake she can't deny - she lied (either on the tapes or in her apology). So of course, it comes across that she was ready to mediate between the Congress and the DMK. And what is the best way to counter any kind of recorded evidence but to say, "I lied"?

At the same time, it does come across from NDTV's coverage (or the part that was in the debate anyway)that she was actually using the information to report news. So my take is that she, in all likelihood, WAS lying to Niira of many circles. (Radia, circles... - clever, huh?)

So now after Barkha's admission and general evidence that her role in cabinet selection was non-existent, the best Manu Joseph can come up with is, 'You didn't publish a story' and the eloquent, 'You're not answering the question!'

That is why children are told: "Don't tell lies." It generally creates all kinds of messes.

PS: Vir bad-teeth Sanghvi, on the other hand, should rename Counterpoint to Copy-Paste.

A place in my head

2010-11-20T21:14:00.000+05:30

While it's true that work has taken over my life completely, it's also true that the part of my brain that is used to blog is currently occupied by guitar playing. And while first love has been dormant for many years, it's been revived by some recent playing with a choir here in the Netherlands.

Apart from that, it is currently being fuelled by a new purchase - the solid body, spruce top Tanglewood TW1000CE.

It is one of the top ironies of my life that when I can actually afford to buy the guitars I want, I don't have enough time to play them.

Meanwhile, feel free to subject your eardrums to the result of Saturday morning idleness.

While the wife cooks