The Unwise prevails over the Wise

Being a Man

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 12:29:00 +0000

“Mard ko dard nahin hota!” Ever since Amitabh Bachchan beautifully said this dialogue in his movie “Mard”, the apparently mere metaphorical representation of the pain and agony that Amitabh was subjected to “in the scene” took a leap of stride. The dialogue which was once used to symbolize the maleness has lately been readily abused and is used against males themselves, of course by their most appropriate counterpart. Who else would envy the males?

I am here to describe how being a male is a relentless tougher job than being a female. There, I said it. Someone has to whirl the perils of being a male in the women bent society, I am here do so. I heard a lot about how difficult is to be a female; people read and appreciate the facts but never hurl, “How is it being a male?” Being a male is not only shoving the pay cheque in a poker match, attending all the super cars/bikes rally or googling the nearest strip club, no absolutely not m’am. Perhaps, some facts might clear the mist around us.

Emotionless –

From what I can understand, emotions are tender expressions inclined towards some people’s well being. We do not say it doesn’t means we are rock. Our tear glands are not big enough to shed buckets of tears and neither have we trained them to do so – Ekta Kapoor’s shows has never intrigued us.

Talk’s nonsense –

To manifest my point in this particular section I want you to stimulate a scene for me.

Working hard on every weekday in office, Friday night comes; friends come along, some chats, some catch up and a couple of drinks.

Now you see the nonsense part in Talk’s nonsense is not us, technically speaking. Alcohol sometimes makes us do what we have always afraid to do.

Uncivilized society –

I refuse to believe this allegation. We all live in a similar society as that of women but we choose to open ourselves to our alike. When I say open I don’t mean to start a strong viewpoint discussion on the quality of shawl Smithaji is wearing or the dubious shine in Mrs. Batra’s necklace; might be a fake. We discuss what is new in trend. Why Sheela is openly claiming her jawani? What Munni did that brought an embarrassment to her? Or why does Chikni Chameli always drinks the cheap unrefined alcohol, she can die?

Only Sports –

India is apparently a cricket inclined nation. We are so much bent towards this religiously worshiped game that we watch hockey only when India play’s Quarter Final, Semi Final or if India gets lucky, even final. Oh sorry, I got a bit carried away. Yes, we watch cricket because it gives us adrenal rush. Everyone needs something to notch his morale and what better than T20 cricket match?

Dirty Minds –

A random site surveyed India and posted the synopsis of their survey on their website. The survey was aimed to strengthen the voice of feminism. All men are pigs; the website articulated these words. I condemn this raised voice. We’re basically classified on what we think. I am 69% sure this is a cynicism. Women are good at blatant rants and baloney accusations. Sigh!

With everything sort it is an apparent conclusion that among the thick fog of prejudice, we, the men, continue to strive and thrive for our existence.

A Valentine's Day To Remember

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sat, 11 Feb 2012 06:08:00 +0000

Blogadda's Tangy Tuesday Pick

In this month of love I asked Red Handed to help me out with a post sprinkled with the splashes of love from her perspective. She said okay. I said good. She poured some neat ideas, I blend them with dirt. And before we could claim the superiority we co-authored a blog post. Tada!

Valentine’s Day is just a few days away and I am all excited about it. Perhaps, Valentine’s Day serves me much more than Diwali. We all know the fabricated custom of this day. Sending SMSes to only girls. Oozing your tender feelings for her; of course on SMS or sometimes on GTalk. Fixing a plan to meet for face-to-face confession with some chocolates and flowers. This is Valentine’s Day in Indian sphere unlike western. Things have gone social. Couples spamming your News Feed on Facebook, Timeline on Twitter, Scrapbook on Orkut and Nothing on LinkedIn with their heart melting I Love You Jaanu posts beautifully carved with and tones of emoticons “<3”; being prominent. If you do NOT use “<3” at the end of every wall post you write on your partner's wall on Facebook, you are not in love. Period. End of discussion. I personally relish such posts, much because I love to barge in with irksome comments and leave with a sense of doubt. The best thing about today's socially advanced custom you are considered a couple only when your Facebook status is updated from being single to in a relationship.

A lot of people talk about what to do after you are in a relationship but never cared to mull what preparations are prerequisite for it. How would you feel if the moment of desperation ends up blowing in your face? You propose her with some perfectly rehearsed lines; a convincing brief of your inclination for her and all you get at the end is a tossed heart straight into the dustbin which reads “use me”. This is a scenario of unprepared Ranjha. Heer would never suffer such loss of determination because she would never approach her wanted-to-be Ranjha; moral girl code strictly prohibits them for certain acts; Sistah Code (Sly copy of Bro Code).

Sometimes, reality bites

I don’t know what makes this day so special. If a boy proposes a girl he loves on Valentine’s Day, he has as much chances of getting his heart crushed and ass kicked as on any other day of the year. I believe that unless you are 100% sure that the chick you love is bound to say yes to you, do not propose her on Valentine’s day, for then you will remember the day as a day of perpetual heartbreaks. People see 14^th Feb as an epitome of victory of love over the world; a world which has an indefinite proportion of divorce rates over marriage rate. And somehow when I think of it this way, it makes me giggle. Stereotypes are born but there is no Russells Peters to crush them.

If I look at Valentine’s Day from a better human perspective, it is a day where virgin (let us just say, just.) committed guys can take yet another shot at trying to make their lover to do some hanky panky things. It is a day when girls get a bit more liberal about the whole concept of being touched and thus making them boys successful in achieving their prurient interest. The young India talent exactly knows what I am talking about. See. SEE. You are winking now. Their tender brain cells are already on a constructive work of forming a virtual scenario on how to pursue. Leaving the discussion behind, let us concentrate on much more delicate issue lying beside us untouched, no offence.

14^th Feb is a day when newspaper turns into India TV. The moment you open the newspaper, it is filled with love quotes and a whole page filled with messages from MAJNOOS to their respective LAILAAS and vice versa. It is a day when an elder brother cannot take his sister to the local park or the marine drive, in scare of the Bajrang Dal activists beating him down to pulp. A brother and a sister were beaten by party members of Bajrang Dal in Ujjain because apparently they were found the duo “together” when the brother was dropping her sister to her college and “somehow” the party members mistook them for a couple and themselves decided to “teach the couple a lesson”, of course by publically beating the boy and insulting the girl. Brother-sister of same age cannot coexist. Bajrang Dal does not approve such kind of family planning.

Read — Brother-sister chased by goons in Ujjain on V-Day.

To be blunt, intruding the personal lives is not what Indian cult taught us. Influence of west is undeniable but calling the essence of love against Indian culture is a fact that hard to chew, especially when Indian cultural devotees’ or Bajrang Dal-ites tender minds tend to forget the binding of the book "Kamasutra” was happened in Indian.

Resolution and All

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 09:39:00 +0000

It has been 10 days since the New Year has arrived. It is 2012 and like a regular activity everyone has started framing their own New Year resolutions to make their life better. When I say everyone, it includes actors, politicians and various other inhuman kinds (Yes, yes the KRK types). With Jingle Bells still stuck into my head I have formulated a resolution list occupation wise which has enough potential to rescue India and more importantly Mankind.

Actors

Abhishek Bachchan – He is an ~~impotent~~ important man with potential, only potential or is it just the last name notching un-requisite weigh to the first name. Judging by the year 2011 and those which went by like a yawn in context of his career/acting, Bachchan must seriously consider learning the art of choosing. Script that sucks cannot earn.

Aamir Khan – You just need Complan shake to increase your height and then you won’t have to swallow the imminent camouflaged joke by Shahrukh. I am your big fan, hoping someday someone will turn out to be your big cooler.

Shahrukh Khan – Juxtaposition, Aamir listed above is the reason. There are so many people who want to make their unanimous honest confession. I gave them this blog post as a medium to express their heartfelt thoughts. I cannot type whatever they said, since I am in a public domain but the people who witnessed the phenomenon of Rs 132 Crores which you named as Ra.One are feeling uneasy to let you go after being subjected to a 4^th dimensional mental asylum that you created. Filing a lawsuit was most appealing them as a perfect buster and then Don2 happened. New thoughts are in process, will update you.

You must take a resolution to make movies which is little above the line of nonsense. If people can appreciate Golmaal then they will definitely look forward to yours.

Kareena Kapoor – Even size “zero” didn’t help. If she were a blonde, she would have thought to go size “minus one”. Who am I to suggest but her most likely new year resolution should be to marry and get settled.

Preity Zinta – I caught you reader. Your expression says, “Oh! Dear lord. This name just ringed a bell in my head. Quick, let me google her.” But her resolution should be; resolute her personal life as Bollywood has long forgotten her as an actress.

Politics

This section can be done as a separate blog post or an essay but going by the trend I veraciously need to pick 6 champions and boil down their potential resolution.

Laloo Prasad Yadav – Without any doubt “King of Fodder” would have made to this list. And, he is here. Welcome him with cow or dung, whatever suits his image for you. His resolution can eat the entire post, that’s a flaw but I tried to cluster everything and form a best resolution. His resolution this year should be to deliver a grand lecture at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Boston on how technology didn’t help halting the train accidents during his period as the Railway Minister. It was just idea that did. He raised the bar for the people applying for the post of Train Driver in Indian Railways. He went to set up a minimum criterion for train drivers, a proper vision. That was how train accidents were reduced.

Manmohan Singh – He is a man of honour, ethics, culture and silence. I think I got a little distract from the point. His resolution this year should be; “ “. There you go. Short, simple and ecstatic.

Suresh Kalmadi – Everything was going great, until CBI started CWG investigation. Long essays have already been written; oozing feeling and sometimes ~~some~~ many bitter words (If you know what I mean). Acting like a sudden dementia ridden chap too didn’t tripped the luck in his favor; his this year resolution should be to focus on his acting skills and make a comeback later with Alzheimer in his sleeves.

Music Industry

Sonu Nigam – Long forgotten veteran singer whose last phenomenal work was the song Kal Ho Na Ho in the movie “Kal Ho Na Ho” that came in early 2000’s. He made a Pre 2012 Resolution; passed his legacy to his child. Nevaan Nigam sang his debut song Why this Kolaveri Di? Gleaming eyes of the father couldn’t hold back as the world Awed Kolaveri Di and Aww at the cutie.

Bappi Lahiri “The Da” – Get some songs and dig in gold. Sorry, but I find no change in his resolution; been same since the year 2000. More strive is needed to attain the goal, else nirvana.

Anu Malik – His search for Indian Idol made him popular after slyly copying musical notes from various genre and country artiste. What my not so astute mind cannot comprehend is; why was Anu Malik searching for India Idol when he is supposed to be the greatest Indian Idle? His potential New Year “Resolution” is “tangled” between originality and plagiarism. I am sure he has lifted his New Year Resolution from somewhere.

Lata Mangeshkarji – Dear reader don’t expect me to write any crypt rant on her, because there isn't any. She is respected by everyone.

Entertainment world

Rakhi Sawant – I can see a smiling face as you read the name. Rakhi is a perfect “skin-silicon” combination. Going by her Intelligence Quotient; she feels Silicon Valley is a place where she’s destined to live; of course after her breast implant. Sadly, she only believes in her “Jeezus” not on stupid resolutions.

Poonam Pandey or @ipoonampandey – As she started shedding her clothes her fanatics started “touching” the new highs (Hehe). 19 year old, internet’s most downloaded “model” of India need to first google the meaning of New Year Resolution to make one for her. Also, it’d interesting to see Poonam Pandey’s internet search history. Finding anything else in search history than “Hottest Bikini Pose” will come as a shock to me, I swear.

Sunny Leone – Hehe. *Runs*

End of the World

Immortality, I wish for

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 11:16:00 +0000

Where are we heading?

Sometimes days pass by until you realize they are passing. A thought clouds your mind with a temptation to explore the "what if's" and so your solitude is occupied. Days becomes night, evening and afternoon have no sign. Some of you think about getting into better college, some are occupied with better job salary while some are busy with what to download. Lately, I have been seized by a thought. Thought which might transcend the boundaries of fiction. Even though the idea can never happen but dabbling into the sea of possibilities, which indeed is perpetual, it is itself a meditation to me.

Thought, a human is ought to die as a part of an inevitable process; the thought itself brings a sense of sensation down the spine. Equilibrium has to be intact, after all that is how the universe works. Give and take away criterion is a fundamentally proven law of nature. Whenever something has to dealt with life and death, as a part of routine we always tend to drag medical science and its advancement into the field but never tried to go beyond death. Medical advancement cannot seize your youth forever. Life beyond death is my point of ponder here or Immortality, if I articulate the phrase.

Death gives us sleep, eternal youth, and immorality — Jean Paul

“How would it be if I were immortal? Rather filling only one generation I would have filled so many, if only I were immortal.” It is actually what has been keeping me up these days. Immortality is something which is always fantasized and wished by the mortals. Why we ache for such a bizarre fantasy? Perhaps, it is not the curiosity of watching the generations come and go by; somewhere down the line it is the fear to die, fear of not able to breathe again, feel the things again and departure from the loved ones. Plenty of people must had given a thought to not to die secretly in their solitude. Getting baffled by the enigma of life and death is rather very easy and intriguing also on the other hand very intimidating too. If you still haven’t given a thought, please do since I do not want to sound like a parallel universe’s weird specimen. Thought? Felt good; didn't you? Watching over your parents, children, grand children, great grandchildren and so on! Witnessing the growth; from mobile phones to holographic communication devices and eventually to the end of the world. Historic life. Wouldn’t it be, hmm?

Hindu mythology manifests the fetish for immortality. Protagonist, *of the time being* prays hard to impress his God and when succeeds; in exchange of his efforts, a blessing for immortality is being asked, often. Though, God replies with a straight no, no matter how rude may it sounds, but why? Perhaps, being immortal is not what it appears to be. Significance might to manifest itself but is encrypt somewhere in it. Mythological aspect of being immortal implies the sheer fact, that now the “mortal who has turned to immortal” shares a place amidst the various Gods. Either God is too choosey with his council members or there is no vacancy for other God job post. But nothing seems to convince me. Is then immortality a curse? I had stopped pondering upon this issue; hitherto, I was suggested to watch a series.

Recently, I had completed watching a 6 episode anime series, named Rin: Daughter of Mnemosyne which answered me the question for which I had been longing for. The story of two immortal girls; cannot be killed, and if they do get killed, they can regenerate. Excellent concept with sheer brilliant artwork (Of course artwort would be brilliant, it is an anime.) and short six episode story but with a perfectly profound moral, at least for me. With every passing episode the series taught me aspects of human life. The trading cost for being immortal is just too high. Stakes are off the charts, I’d say. The foundation policy of our entire living comes into act “if you want some, you have to give away some”. But what you have to give away in return of immortality? Seems peculiar trade, no? Given a chance to choose I would like to die instead of living for eternity. Why? Because the answer is simple, immortality is a curse. You have to pay for immortality for eternity. How would someone feel if he is made to eat his favorite food all day long? He will relish the feast for days, then after week he will get tired within a month or so, bored. Repeating the same activity for decades perhaps century will eventually lead to a life of boredom. This is the expense and peril.

Detachment is hard and dealing with the melancholy would be perpetual when you have to live on and on, seems a trivial trade to me; only if you are not a hollow emotionless lump of flesh in a human form. Peril comes with everything but the intensity differs with every circumstance, this is extreme. Living has to be kept a secret affair; questions would rise if told to everyone. Human are always curious to explore new sides of life, making your immortal life just a piece of experiments and data collection source would be a heavenly blessing for them. Changing places and identities, so much for living is not the kind of life I would ever want. Yet, there will be people who will opt to live and face the consequences. Words will fail to persuade them but their opinions will remain unshakable. Of course everything is fictitious but seems real to me, I think I am immortal………

We Can Leak

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 09:03:00 +0000

This is a guest post is written by Aashish Aryan who is a well acknowledged writer at News That Matters Not. He blogs here.

And this time around we decided to give some competition to that white guy (do we sound racists?) with a knack for disturbing world leaders… Julian Assange. Wait, we are not going to open another website or go to the jail or encounter a rape case either. We did our own share of leaking things and chanced upon a little bit of a “private” conversation between Harvinder Singh and his victim Sharad Pawar. Hacking into the MTNL’s telephone cable is not a big deal of efforts. This little conversation happened when Shard was at some cricket stadium and his arch-nemesis Harvinder Singh in the jail. Since MTNL’s line had a heavy disturbance hence entire conversation couldn’t be recorded. Excerpt from the conversation is as under.

Harvinder: Hello Saar. So, how are you doing now? (imagining Pawar’s left cheek). I heard some fan also went down quite close to you.

Pawar: Don’t you frickin'; dare to talk to me. Who asked you to slap me so hard? Ouch! It still hurts. Ouch! And then that brandishing knife and all. You think it was fun, huh?

Harvinder (chuckles): I wanted it to look as real as possible, man! This is what the script demanded. Moreover, people living a virtual life can be cynics. I had to do it. Also, as the treaty goes you have not even got me Sunny, you promised me! It has been days singe the hand-on-cheek incident. (Well do we need to explain it, Which Sunny?)

Pawar: Cool it bro, she is not even outta that god damned house of retards as of yet! She will come (pervert, this is how you spell coming) as promised. She will. I’ve already booked her on makemyshow(dot)com. I hope hawaldaar is taking a good care of you there?

Harvinder: Yeah man, these guys are cool. They abduct the nearby village chicks and well…you know home made food and stuff.

Pawar: Ah! I see. This is why the local M.P was hurling abuses on me for not sharing the fun. These idiots will get me sacked from the party someday, yaar.

Harvinder: Chal chor…hun ek gal dass. Jeh Income Tex wale no tanne kyu nahi pakda be? Saale mote. (Well, this translates to -> "Tell me something fatty, why did the guys from income tax never catch u?)

Pawar: (chuckles) Contacts man, contacts.

Harvinder: Hmm…so what else. How’s life? I heard you had some fan falling around you.

Pawar: Yaar, this insurance guys called up last week. They are threatening me, accusing me of planning it all. How do I make them understand only the slap thing was planned, not this one. Sometimes I get envy of you and your conviction in act. It is quite a girly talent you have there.

Harvinder: Confess it dude. I am better actor than Uday Chopra, Dino Morea and Kristen Stewart. I’d have blown away the theater if I were Bella Swan. And as far you are concern, you are in a win-win situation anyway. And yeah, send me some good whiskey and all. I am tired already of this shit. Better get it imported from Punjab, the Videshi stuff.

Pawar: - Haun! You want me or my men to get slapped all over again? They don’t know the truth. Matter of fact my closest too don’t know that the act was fabricated. You will ruin this. It is the most important phase after the act; the sympathy period. Everyone in my circle is sending wishes to me and obligatory remarks to you.

Harvinder: - Ok ok Chill bhai, I am feeling sleepy and you have bored me enough already. Imma gonna get the heck outta here. Enough of your rant, raves and narcissism.

Pawar: - Whoa!! Cool down man! I am going. I am going. I have low balance. Need to keep some at least for some miss calls.

Harvinder: - Huh! As if.

Why Always Bat?

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 06:42:00 +0000

This post had been sitting with puppy eyes in my drafts for a month now and while I pen, this post stands out of regular. This is an outrageous post. Okay, I exaggerated a little. Lately I have been thinking to actually ponder upon something sensitive. Actually not that sensitive, okay-okay-ish sensitive types.

It is okay to love something, but what if “love” exceeds the boundaries of okay? Nothing can be done; we have to live with it. Maruti television commercial says, “India, a country obsessed with mileage” but clearly they are wrong by miles. India has a bigger obsession, mileages doesn’t even make up to the “Top 10 Obsessions of India”. Cricket is the list topping obsession of India. For some, this obsession has crossed all the bars and boundaries (Not Chandni Bar, okay?); doesn’t matter if India is not playing, humein toh match he dekhna hai bas.

So, how does this works? And exactly why does this works? I am no cricket enthusiast. This statement would have banish me from my own country if the country was run by goofy cricket lovers. In other words, this is the first time I am glad that Manmohanji is our Prime Minister. Indian cricket enthusiast have variety of things which makes them the *real* entusuast. Not knowing how to play and ready to throw their expert opinions.
"A statistical analysis of each player. 5 pros and more than 5 cons on batting position. How is the pitch? Will it rain? Not much crowd to see Sachin’s 100^th 100. The moment *they* sight a cricket match, they turn into, let’s say, to a Mathematician cribber who reports weather on local news channel; adopting a standard procedure of nitpicking after every stroke by an Indian batsman."

Hockey, bring the national sport and people giving a damn about it; so India, no? India pray cricket beyond the boundaries (Hehe, no puns). Colouring their faces with tricolour is somewhat, normal in a cricket stadium but we don’t see people with such high enthusiasm on Independence Day. Carving India’s map on head but no such art is displayed on Republic day. Cricket unifies the nation but, so does Diwali; then why is cricket riding such high. Is it Marijuana? Surely not! You only get to see final Football World Cup match in a public gathering place just because world is watching it, else a cricket match. Forget about Basketball or any other outdoor sport with ball.

So, why does every second child wants to grow up and become like Sachin Tendulkar? Why not Michael Jordan, Michael Schumacher or ~~Vinod Kambli~~ err… I meant Tiger Woods; okay leave the example part. I think I have successfully dug my point here. We don’t see much of the sports in India because India does not give them enough opportunity or the matter of fact, funds. A friend of mine shared a picture on a social networking site (Duh! We all know what site), Indian Women Kabaddi team members were waiting for an auto on road with World Cup in hands. We don’t see Mahendra Singh Dhoni accompanied by Virat Kohli and Ravindra Jadeja with a World Cup in one hand asking auto driver, “Bhaiyya New Delhi Railway Station chalna hai? Meter kay hisaab se chalna. Ok!” Why? Because their sport is raised by the richest board in the world Board of Cricket Control in India or as we all say BCCI.

If, only opportunity were a little high India wouldn't been a Sport Backward country, minus cricket.

.....Yours Truly

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 06:51:00 +0000

“This letter is strictly written to address the general public. Also it gives me; Digvijay Singh, an immense pleasure to announce that “The Unwise Prevails over the Wise” has completed its year long journey in Blogosphere and on such an occasion what is better than to publish my letter to Indian youth?”

I have been wondering for years to write such a letter and unravel what Digvijay actually is. And today, here I am collecting my anecdotes and aligning them in this letter as we speak. I was born in the year 1947 and the truth of Indian independence lies within me. I was declared as the destined child by Panditji from Shiv Mandir near my Mausiji’s house; that would bring an ode of emancipation with him for his motherland. That very year India tasted its long awaited freedom; my virtue has never been credited since then. History also testifies; life of a hero has always been synonym to miseries and darkness; mine was no different. I was sent to an engineering college……eyes of sympathy still haunt me. I was always looked down upon by the people for years probably because I was Sheldon Cooper of my era. I must bring up some of my handy work I did in my early days. When I was 7, my neighbor aunt caught me stalking her daughter; when I was 10, a bunch of lad pondered me because I refuse to give them the money I lost in a bet; at the age of 15, I was on the pinnacle of my puberty and my parents caught me ………….*Fap Fap Fap*; at the age of 20, teacher caught me with chits while writing exam. I grew up without a Play Stations or iPhone or watching Harry Potter Series or riding Pulsar; enough to give you a rough sketch of my demean childhood. Every piece of my miseries fell into the right void as predicted by Daruwalaji, precisely this is the reason why lately I like being called as Diggy; name change policy, you see!

I was sad, low and heading without the compass of life. I remember the verses I quoted during this phase—

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness

That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves

Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

You’re playing small

Does not serve the world.

There's nothing enlightened about shrinking

So that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,

As children do.

We were born to make manifest

The glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us;

It's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,

We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we're liberated from our own fear,

Our presence automatically liberates others.

— ~~Marianne Williamson~~ Digvijay Singh

My vision provoked the poet out of me and under no consciousness I wrote such a masterpiece. Vision was equipped to change my life forever; it was the day when I joined the most elite politico group of India; Congress. I had to accomplish something for myself. Bas ek aag thi jo tan badan main failti chali gayi. I was young, naive and my youth kept pushing me to strive for success. But now I am focus and motor mouth service man with a will to put India on world map, in a slightly different manner, unlike F1 racing or A Raja. Politics is a game of dirt; I was accused of being corrupt, endlessly and invariably. I am the chosen one and I can never have words such a corrupt in my career file; it has always been and will always be a conspiracy by Anti-Digvijay group, Hindu groups, BJP or RSS. The possibility of involvement of Extra Terrestrials cannot be ruled out as well.

Baseless charges on me: Ridiculously ridicule accusations

Now when the congress is strong enough, capable to single handedly trend anything on twitter; it is not unnatural that Anti-Congress (Team Anna) will not take birth. It’s a balance without which universe will shred into pieces. Over the time they nourished and tried to shake the concrete of ruling party. After me they proceeded as their play was laid; Manmohanji, Soniaji and Rahulji by Kajrawaala err… I mean Kejriwal. I respect Annaji “only” from the bottom of my heart. I hold no personal grudge against him but I sincerely believe if he wants to bring “A Good Government” into power, instead of his chaotic campaign he should fight an election without the invisible support of RSS or ET’s.

So, in my final words I would like to wish you all a very happy life ahead. My you always hoot and vote for Congress. Jai Hind!

Dhanyawaad

— Digvijay Singh

Post was also published at thewittyshit(dot)com and can be read here.

An Ideal Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 12:36:00 +0000

Here

Boys prejudice, a lot. Their habit to exaggerate and overrate ant size matter agitates me enough to nitpick on them. For century feminism had been seen low, male driven society is the trend. How come? Can male reproduce? NO. Then how come they rate their maleness above the femaleness? I have been advised by the blog owner to be gentle but parallel runs the veracious me. How can I be gentle when I am living in a state called Delhi, where a damsel is a frail imbecile who is been taught all the aspects of life and later burdened with tones of restrictions?

Now when I think about it, I have learned to live with it. I cannot vent my perpetual crotchety on anyone, solitude was only non-grey option available. Then I asked my friend, “Can I rant on your blog?” With an intriguing eye and not-so-usual face he answered, “Are you nuts? That’s my ranting place.” With a little threatening and boom-puff he frenetically agreed and this was how I got this space; PoV – Musings of an anonymous girl. Account of my musings would be in scarce but every time it will bring a new fervor to me. I hope you relish this feast (Metaphorically said).

Though my first post was scheduled to be a melodrama types, sprinkled with emotions and pain of life but this dude asked me halt my tsunami of thoughts till the next time and attempt something out of the box. So I decided to drag the boys in it. Do not draw an image of a girl who ~~unlike~~ dislike boys, I too like them *Giggles* but sometimes some gets into my nerves, crawl through my arteries and blast my head off. Therefore lately I have been categorizing them under various labels. If you are a boy, you might find it offensive to bear and some might see their reflection in it; if you anyhow flunk to notice yourself in any of the under cited genre then holla, you are an ideal boy.

Let us begin —

You are a teaser: These are the boy who teases, at least that is what they think. I had once encountered such a lad while returning from my college. With an uncontrollable habit of I must impress her he nitpicking his fellow mates.

Rule: What you see in movie is not always correct. A girl would rather like to run away than to jump into your arm.

You try to strike: This is a class of boys who try to strike a casual conversation for a casual sex with a casual girl at a casual place in a casual pose. When they fail to light up the casualness, they become persistent; ending up perturbing the girl or a harsh beating by the fellow passengers’. There are some benefits which comes handy if you are a girl.

You are so you: Sometimes you will stumble upon some boys who preen loudly, perhaps who are a fashion disaster. Bell bottom yellow pants—rest is quite imaginable. Isn’t it? They even use some strictly feminine cosmetic products. Thank god Shahrukh Khan brought men’s product in market. Else you can find Fiama Di Wills and L’Oreal products in their tightly packed wardrobe.

You are an O: These people should be forbidden. They excessively use emoticons. Call friendship as fraaandship. Sometimes they brag their knowledge about English—the funny language by replacing the similar or almost similar sounding worlds. Imagine a lad standing next to you on a bus stop and the sentence spilled out of his mouth is – I have absorbed her. Now you know what I meant? Observe => Absorb. Sounds so sucker no?

You are such a dash: These are the rulers; ultimate boys. Peek-a-boo is their activity even listed in Facebook info column. They are fearless and concentrated. But the best feature they are embarked with is – rolling eyes. We call them Perverts, if you know what I meant.

You are ~~faulty~~ flaunt'y: When we say Public Display of Affection, it is not always necessary to be “that kind” of affection. Intently staring at the fancy gadget in hand, pretending to make a call even if balance is nil, and invariably trying to bring fake Ed Hardy logo into the line of sight. These are some of the symptoms which I have noticed. Please make a note of it.

You think beyond: More than IIPM, they bring the justice to their slogan. These boys are amusing. Cannot talk to her, so what? I can do “anything” in my solitude. Wait, until I slip into it and then we will……be friends.

The more I ransack my chronicles, the more flusters it become. There will be a time when all “we” could do is…..oh damn I am ending this post here. *Curtains down*

Neighbor Stands Tall

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 06:06:00 +0000

Don't worry, we are here.

So you think world is weird place and cannot get weirder? Is that so? Hah! You are absolutely, wrong. See the world with an angle that is not defined on a protractor and you’ll see China (Sarcasm exclusive). World’s most populated country but not densely populated; China is like Rakhi Sawant. Whenever China feels it’ is out of news, it manages to give the world something intriguing to ponder upon. China reminds me of the time when the concept of dating was not appreciated. Someone who was found practicing blatant dating game had to face the furor. For weeks, the agitated mother watches her daughter with narrow eyes; no-no even narrower than their actual gifted narrowness (See the picture above | No racism intended.).

From early 2000, China is invariably famous for its Made in China tags carved beautifully at the bottom or back of any product but now things have changed. With a GDP of 9.5% now China has also gained much of reorganization. New trades have shown up, new job opportunities are waiting for young Chinese to grasp upon. Boyfriends and girlfriend’s seasonal trade is the latest trend in China these days. They just have to pay a small amount to change their relationship status on Facebook from being Single to In a Relationship, and of course to make their parents happy. Pay more get more real relation, that’s the deal.

“Nothing can sustain in this universe without equilibrium” – China knew it, and soon acted upon it. Can’t say it’s over? Let us help you” The isolated internet sphere of China is nowadays seizing with the ads and agents who prejudice themselves as The Breakup Expert. Killing the love has always been the cruelest act. No one wants to be in the middle of river of tears flowing through the mountains of guilt. Now when I see it, agents appear to me as noble ~~soles~~ souls; born to emancipate. Carrying their karma to find a place in heaven and who knows they might get rewarded with 72 virgins just like Osama-bin-Laden. With a price of 400 Yuan for an hour to break the bitter news these agents are hit these days. Had this idea been boon in India, a chain of people would have registered themselves as the agents and more rapidly institutes like FIITJEE would be offering a 2 week condense course in this field with a fee of ` 20,000 per week. Fee would include—tuition fee, book fee and examination fee. If FIITJEE is doing it then how can Brilliant, Narayana and Pie leave themselves behind?

Screw the Skills

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Fri, 26 Aug 2011 14:41:00 +0000

For years we have witnessed many milk additives. Bournvita, Complaint, Milo, Maltova, Horlicks, blah, blah and blah. We know, they make kids Taller, Stronger, Sharper and all the possible “er”. Along with great taste does such milk additives also stimulates the grasping power of brain, as promised? No, they don’t. I have tasted all and Maltova was the best though my mother asked me to settle for Bournvita.

I asked myself a question – Does my class topper use such a supplement to hold his position in class? Perhaps yes. That is the reason why I started having it. Expectations always hurt – I learned it the hard way. Even after Bournvita I didn’t top. This was preposterous. I condemned the apparent result. Then I tried Horlicks. It should have worked according to the ad. The “sharper” thingy wasn’t true. They exaggerate the sharpness by various degrees. I don’t see how it can calibrates one’s mental capabilities when now I mull on it. That is when I learned some facts— I still forget where my cap is after wearing it. I still search for my specs even when I’m wearing them. Perhaps, I should file a legal complaint against additive makers and drag them to the Consumer Welfare court, no? Also I have nothing much interesting to do these days.

| Additive fact – Rooh Afza in icy milk tastes far much better than the others. Period.

Not only in milk; ads trend to set themselves as a perfect deceptive tool. A baby cries even after wearing Huggies. Where is the promise? Got leaked!?! Agreed they come in pants type easy to adjust around the baby but the babies still cry when they pee in it. Should the visibly contemptuous mother; vague about when Chunnu is going to fall asleep ask for her money back?

| Baby fact – They are cute but beware, you don't know who is Stewie Griffin and Shin Chan Nohara

Livon is also known for its deceptive tactics. I sticky eww’able semi-fluid runs down from the Whiskey shaped bottle. It promises to give a silky smooth straight hair, what about those who are born with curly hairs and cannot do anything for it?

5 Star with it’s over hyped ad robbed me several times.

| Short story – The day I saw this ad I immediately went to get some of them for myself. I ate two and a half chocolate and still was able to recall everything; I was nauseating soon. Again I got something to file a legal case upon which caused me maal haani.

Fair and Lovely and its likes are few out of many freaking racist around. If anyone can, then please explain me the logic behind the mechanism involved in making skin tone farer within 7 days? The only methodologies I can strike for making skin farer is—paint your face with desired colour or rub it hard against the road. Caution – If you’re thinking of overly applying colour White, then for your information it’s hard to tan it later.

Kellogg’s Special K – Please excuse me, by any change any of you are subjecting yourself to this program in which you just have to eat 2 bowls, 2 times a day, for 2 week? This question is NOT sexist. Come one, don’t be shy. It’s perfectly okay if the lady draped in red saare had wooed you. It happens. Sympathies.

Tele Shopping ads; are you expecting a self explanatory explanation to it? Blame Slim Sauna Belt.

| Excerpt from a SMS which I had been receiving on daily basis –From 1800-987-6784*Slim Sauna Belt* Loose 10 KG in 7 days. Buy Slim Sauna Belt at a special price of ` 2200 only. Hurry offer limited for a special period.

Either the marketing agency has built a Time Travelling Machine in which they saw I’m going to become a big belly or they are trying to be a purveyor of blatancy.

No matter how much one tries be will always flunk to explain the difference between a Deodorant and a Vest & Brief ad. Instead of viewers, it aroused government. Now *that* type of ads are banned.

And finally Airtel; which recently launched a customer luring ad, Har k friend zaruri hota hai, needs to know, zarurat kay time par network bhi zaruri hota hai.

Fading Festive

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 02:06:00 +0000

Google Images

It was the eve of Independence Day; 15^th August. World was a beholder when world’s largest democracy cherished its 64^th year of emancipation. I was trying to rate my patriotism. Has it increased by few folds or has it decreased by few notches. I don’t fly kites anyone, has the patriotism inside me died? I don’t wear Khādī has the patriotism dried?

While rating I realized; why only Independence Day, has my interest dipped for every festival or occasion celebrated in the society? I grazed for a while and realized—it is not only me. I don’t see sky full of kites anymore. I don’t see enthusiasm in 15^th day of August anymore. Does my enthusiasm lies only in a single day of a year? Doesn’t my actions rather than flaunt works for the benefit of my nation?

|Does patriotism only means “that”? Can’t patriotism be not downgrading own country?

My teacher accused me of being driven by the western cult. The one who’s trying to get himself to a Canadian university as a professor warned me for not wearing Capri. Where is the love for India, I bet it is in Canada, no? So how am I supposed to make myself patriotic? Any idea? I can paint my face with tricolour and run around the streets, I can loudly sing Vande Mataram to show my patriotism is above all. Won’t my subtle actions help in progress my nation?

I do not stalk any tourist neither I ask them for their names out of blues. Doesn’t this makes my nation a little above than it actually was for tourists from abroad? I do not spit out venom, unnecessarily. Last time I travelled in DTC I heard intellectuals’ above 50’s overly ranting the nation. A little contribution can help but who cares? Rants are much easily availing medium.

| What I believe is – not making it worse is a part of not degrading.

I do not write on ancient monuments “♥ I love you Shreya ♥”. Monuments are tourist venue and give a great deal of moolah in Indian economy. I don’t write on them hence I do not degrade them. Doesn’t this indirectly say I’m helping my country? Perhaps, I am not economically strengthen enough to contribute in country; oh come on, I’m still a student. I see no reason to crib excessively about the ill-condition of country. Did country asked you to rape it? Excessive crime rate. Did country made you bankrupt? Betting on India-England match did. Did country made it the way it is now? Earlier it was centre of excellent monumental display and now it is all tobacco and pisses marks and smell too. Stop raving when you cannot. (FYI: Yes, this paragraph was meant to hurt.)

A Desktop Affair

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 14:35:00 +0000

In the human life of 60 years, well almost, there comes a time when he has to believe what he sees. Perhaps, what he is seeing is too enigmatic to apprehend but he cannot complain; life has to throw lemons at him according to the rules and going by the SMS he has to ask for Vodka. It is a metaphor by the way but can’t help if you have already started drooling. What if he flunk to firmly grasp the opportunity? His chance to win free Vodka will be spilled on the floor. He will see someone else relishing it—the exotic mocktail now. He gets irked more because GoI had hiked the price of all alcoholic beverages by 15-20%. This is life, sedate but full of camouflage dwelled marvelously with euphemism. It is trivial to resist the impetus; it just burns him from inside.

Life taught me a new lesson. Methodology adopted was next to bizarre. Life dwells in every single thing, literally. I was about to type down my views on the current Indian scenario on my MS Word when it refused to accept the word Suresh Kalmadi, vague of the cause I tried to write it down again but a warning message in display frown me. Any further attempt will lead to corruption in Windows. I rubbed my eyes until I was sure what I am reading is what I am really reading or what I am reading is not what I am really reading but really is. So, MS Word is Kalmadi repellent now, more like Mortein. I expected life to throw something tangy to me. *Sigh* Thinking of the dementia eased my head. Perhaps, Word is afraid of dementia. It can be communicable sometimes, no? I left the word Kalmadi and began with a new post, afresh, with a sole purpose to mock A. Raja and wow his astutely earned few lakh crores. Another warning flashed breaking me into sweat. Word refused to take A. Raja as a word too. What the hell is wrong with MS Word? Reinstalling MS Word too didn’t helped. My desktop has been infected by them and their likes.

Connecting to internet and reading the HT and ToI columns was paying now, anyhow. It was not just MS Word, the bloody desktop was seized under their zeros. I was still oblivious of such macabre behavior displayed by my Desktop. Scams were bothering it? Then I thought to do a report writing for my college on Metallurgy. Still it discarded every word. B.S Yeddyurappa’s little mine maneuver was making my reports delay. It had to be submitted and this time I sincerely wanted to do a report on my own. But, alas! This time too I have to run a Ctrl-A + Ctrl-C + Ctrl-V mechanism in a row. Out of sheer irritation I planned to do a fake news on 2018 Commonwealth Games. "How Kalmadi looted another country’s on the name of "Common Wealth". But I think desktop didn’t appreciate the idea much. Result: Warning to send report to Microsoft. The copy of Windows you are using is fake types. Advanced version of Lokpal bill; Pokepal too didn’t sound phunny to my desktop. I was doomed now. How will I serve my fetish to laugh on some significant people? Desktop’s astuteness was much beyond what I had ever imagined. It even knew about the famous appetizer by Lalu Prasad Yadav [Chaara Ghotala].

When this insignificant electronically driven gadget was playing tantrum-tantrum with me, I never realized it was the life, endeavoring to teach me a lesson Life dwells in every single thing. I was too flustered with the virtue that desktop recently developed and desktop was relishing my contemptuous solitude, scourging me with impetuous, deliberately.

| Read more here: Scheming Crafty Aggressive Malicious

Now out of blues if you wonder how did I manage to type and post this, the wrath of the desktop was too strong. Well, I borrowed a laptop. Luckily, all of them are not infected.

Crazy about a Man-mohan. Are we?

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 05:40:00 +0000

This is a guest post and is written by the one who has invariably amazed me by the way she writes and the grip she holds. Her sharp opinions dwell in her opinionated mind; crisp and perfectly chiseled. I wish I could ridicule like her, but alas! The writer at Freebird, Alka Gurha.

That sex-glamour combo is an effective tool for advertising is known. How then can the political realm remain untouched by it?
In several countries charismatic candidates, mostly male have created followers who display love and adulation for the candidate. Amber Ettinger’s ‘Obama girl’ campaign in 2008 elections was a perfect example. Amber an American actress rose to fame when she acted in a video, ‘I got a crush on Obama’ in which she professed her admiration for the then US Senator, now President.

Visibly, Putin is happy; very happy I say.

On similar lines young women declaring their love for Putin are forming a cult in Russia. Recently, Putin launched his forth-coming Presidential campaign with a video contest where young smart and beautiful girls were asked to tear something off for Putin. So what did young and beautiful girls rip off? Clothes of course! All for their leader, Vladimir Putin. “I am just crazy about a man who changed our country,” said one pretty girl.
Adulation is a natural outcome of decisive, charismatic leadership. And decisive leadership comes from decisive actions. A friend posed a legitimate question, “Will beautiful girls shed clothes for Indian politicians?”

Contest is open for all. Rip in your entries today. Hurry!

In India, time is not right for politicians to market their cause via the sex-glamour route. It has nothing to do with us being a conservative nation and Indian values and blah-blah and boo-boo. For starters, charisma and a certain dose of machismo are entirely missing from our politicians. When Obama or Putin display their toned physiques, tabloids go berserk. Physical fitness is an alien subject in Indian polity. Even the thought of our leaders going topless can make one squirm. Mulayam topless…eeeks! Go ahead and imagine others at your own risk. Given the resentment against the political establishment, forget girls, men and women might rip off politicians’ clothes rather than their own.

Also, for girls to shed clothes one has to arouse passions. Dirty minds, I am talking about nationalistic passions here. Just the way Dhoni and his men did on the eve of the World cup. The patriotism reached such a crescendo that a certain model was ready to bare all for the World Cup winners. Of course, it’s debatable whether the proposed act of generosity was for self promotion or passions; patriotic or otherwise.
Coming back to Putin, his campaign took off with a bang. Young pretty women made a lingerie calendar with personal messages for their beloved Putin and sang songs, “I want a man like Putin”. It is tough to imagine Indian girls doing that for Manmohan or Advani?

| Read more: Campaign to support Vladimir Putin has women ripping off their clothes

Twenty years ago on July 24, 1991 Manmohan Singh presented his first budget and India began its long march to prosperity. His speech that day went down in the annals of history as one that changed India. He presented finances of a country that was almost bankrupt. Since 1991 the nations GDP quadrupled and we were poised to take on the world. Notwithstanding the debate that the historical budget was not Dr Singh’s idea but he was simply lucky enough to present it and carve a niche for himself as a modernizer. Carve a niche he did.

Even though Dr Singh was bereft of any machismo, possibly women would have ripped clothes for him and his bold policies in early 2000. After all, he was the ~~Womanizer~~ Modernizer.

But look where we are now? Stuck deep in the quagmire of corruption courtesy same Dr Singh’s inactions and the granite detachment of his political boss Sonia Gandhi.

The Modernizer and the Madonna duo have caused crores worth of loss to the exchequer. Together they are possibly heading the most corrupt government since independence. Who will shed clothes for them?

Tears maybe!

The 6 PM Slot

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 05:29:00 +0000

About the Author—

Author of Indian origin, Naomi Datta daydreams about the perfect bollywood Rom-Com that she will make one day, plays badminton, and updates her facebook status on the hour. That’s when she’s gainfully occupied. She is otherwise a television producer, presenter and film writer. She counts Times Now, CNBC TV 18 and MTV among her employers in a decade long television carrier. She currently freelances and believes she is the best boss she had ever had. Naomi is based in Mumbai and this is her debut novel.

Review—

The 6 PM Slot by Naomi Datta

Welcome to the world of television, where nothing is ever what it appears.

It is refreshing read with a peculiar plot; back office. YTV—Youth TV, as the name suggests a youth channel is dipping with its TRP among the audience. Book opens with a boss wants to see the numbers and graphs on PPT and that too soon. Tanya is the central character; protagonist of the story.

Rahul, plans to defy the laws of show time and decides to launch a love talk show in the 6 PM Slot. His deputy, a swine man Harish questions his idea but then readily agrees. Tanya who was struggling with her carrier at YTV and was responsible for the show on celebrities pet (apparently obsessed) was given this new project of her life time.

Channel ropes Vrushali, a sexy lady who has to host the love show called Dayson X30 Love Calls—Are you hot enough? for their new 6 PM Slot. Indian men wants to see a sexy girl draped in skimpy outfit and talking next to dirty, it’s pretty much close to what Harish wants in 6 PM Slot by Vrushali but his idea was given a lead down by Tanya and presented to Rahul minus the lewdness Harish sprayed. Yes, Harish is one desperado of its own kind. Than begins the ordeal; Vrushali catches Chicken Pox. Everything starts tangling itself before it could even get started.

Aditya is another chap who sits 2 cabins away from Tanya and is there to light her mood. Playful jokes and discussion of strategy to lighten the burden from Tanya’s shoulder gives a hint what Aditya feels in a subtle manner, something similar goes for Rahul.

Language used is simple. Beware of swear words in native language. Book is filled with both subtle and surprising humour. But the book loses its grip while approaching to the middle section but quickly regains it with much more pace than it did in the beginning.

To conclude 6 PM Slot is a corporate read. Giving an idea on how the office works and how they have to strive to complete their target. It proves to be a good read with all the ingredients that a reader looks for, not the Harish's type.

|This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Metro-ian Dissection

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 12:55:00 +0000

Have you heard about Metro, Delhi Metro? Metro is one such project that brought grandeur to the name “Delhi Metro Rail Corporation”. Now when it’s a huge success unlike Ready, it brought people closer than they actually are. Now I can land anywhere uninvited, thanks to Metro. Ease had to be compromise; enough facility doesn't sound India, right? A short run is tolerable and can be easily disremembered. Unfortunately I always get rope in an alone voyage which starts giving me melancholics’ soon as I realize the above stated fact.

Are you in this picture? Yes. Congrats, you're famous now.

Invariably irking announcement on metro stations takes my toes off the ground (Even higher than Red Bulls). The blatant announcement turns into a melodious silence when loud speakers goes malfunction. Stentorian musical tones from headphones—some highly intellectual beings have successfully de-bunked new alternatives to make their co-passengers listen Sheela Ki Jawani. Blaring isn't from no-guarantee Chinese cell phone’s extra large speaker, this time it is, maximum volume flaring out from their 3.5mm jack earphones. Suave office goers are the most admired among all. They are calm and fully humanized with a sense of idiosyncrasy. Imbeciles—naam he kaafi hai. Talkative aunties are often discovered amidst congregation of too much talkative aunties. They spare their husband and whirl someone else’s pati parameshwar. Even their Facebook profile lists it as an interest and hobby. Ranting, raving a man without his attention is not an act of bravery, but they are talkative aunties after all, aren’t they?

Dudes with uncanny hairdo can be often seen. I won’t gossip about their peculiar hair dressing sense as I myself practice this weird art of visual betrayal. No comments. Girls in uncommon clad—to me, it has started appearing that they dress in uncommon apparel; because of the growing competition between the fairer sex. Who looks better? Who will be out-standing? Winner will be rewarded with ogle, lots and lots of ogle. Boys in loose jeans or diabolic apparel-maker's scientifically termed it as low waist jeans. Everyone is okay with the chosen ~~self destruction~~ fashion but somehow a jolt makes it uncomfortable to bear the line below the waistline. Both the hands busy with holding pants close above to a-base line.

Low waist Jeans "Scientific Term" with song volume little above maximum.

GoPAiH—Group of people always in hurry. They spread their arm and stretch it to reach the gate. They reach to the gate and stand tall facing it like their business partner. *Metro has just left the station.* Their destination station is yet 4 stations away. I believe what they conceive is; their destination station might somehow acquire the power to cut through space-time boundaries and will teleport right adjacent to them. (Just a thought, not really). There are people who stand/sit up close to their neighboring passenger. I don't wish to discuss their strategic approach here, it's apparent. There is always someone with Odour Ordeal. The one who…..let us say, the one who stink like no-one else does. What exasperates me to the very extent are the spitting marks on the signboard Please Do Not Spit in Train and Station Premises – these people are archery experts and every station is their playground. They also possess the ability of not being caught. Then there are frenetic—they are busy with strolling around the coaches and act like getting intensely intricate in the beauty of Delhi’s traffic. Those who lie are widely distributed among the above discussed various categories. Lying can be done by anyone; claiming to have reached the destination station when metro still has to cover the ground of 4-5 stations before theirs. They secretly wish if metro could just increase its speed by a little 100 m/s. Some discuss on phone so loud that all coaches can hear, “maal factory main rakhwa diyo aur paise chandu se le liyo.”

A factory owner

Let me also introduce you to those who do nothing, nothing at all. Now how will I disassociate them? They’re tough. Aaagrrh!! Leave them. Those who sit on the floor—now when males are prohibited to enter ladies compartment, in any case; people who are down and dying with such a fatigue that fray their deep posterior muscles so much that every passing station makes their legs frail, the eventual result would be—sitting down on the floor. Simple na? Those who यौन err... I mean "yawn". They make me gloomy, matter of fact, everyone. You are ought to feel lethargic in their aura which gives sleepless dreams. And after gulping some such toxic observations one thing which agitates the most is—still one station has left to be covered.

Gender Blender

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 09:40:00 +0000

Ghulam Nabi Azad. What a gutsy man, no? After Supreme Court rendered its final judgment Ghulam Nabi Azad became sentimental. Damning the Act 377 aside he delivered his own dyslectic point. Ghulam Nabi Azad; I know most of you might have not ever heard his name before this. No, no nothing to be ashamed of, it is natural not to remember any cabinet minister except quite a few.

Something which happens often is called a miracle and Ghulam Nabi sahab made it happen. His comment on homosexuality created an echoing unanimous opinion. India got united, once again after Baba Ramdev, miracle.

Image Courtney- Satish Acharya

We definitely cannot blame Nabi sahab for calling homosexuality a disease. Why? Silly; it is because every human cannot comprehend everything, easily. Instead of blatantly ranting our honorable health minister, people should have deciphered “other” vague possibilities hyperlink to his statement. After brilliantly linking MSM (Man having sex with man) to HIV/AIDS awareness a plethora of profuse outrage of opinions on social networking soon after the comment was seen. Considering Nabi sahab’s opinion on homosexuality as an unnatural disease I am freighted the most. Another statement from health minister issuing the symptoms of homosexuality is my concern. Is it communicable viral disease which spreads by touching like most of the people think like AIDS spreads?

Medical fact—a disease never shows up immediately. It follows symptoms.

I believe Ghulam sahab is busy in creating symptoms.

Baba Ramdev with his unparallel experience also called it a yoga curable disease.

I always wonder; do they deliberately make such a statement? Ask me, I’ll say yes. Humans are always credited as attention seekers and as far my knowledge goes “they” are humans. This is the best phase to yell out such opinionated statements since their pinning voice won’t be heard in future. No it’s not apocalypse but the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows – Part 2 and Twilight – Breaking Dawn are set to make cover page headlines for months.

They cannot enroll for Roadies and Splitsvilla, not because their morale doesn’t allow but the show requirement is beyond their reach. Hence idea dropped. Their vast knowledge is incomparable hence they cannot even take part in any quiz contest. Their modesty holds them back from displaying their sheer knowledge. Their plan to appear on television and motivate people to adopt straightness in life will come to a halt if hence being someone who could efficiently on camera is the reason what they are today to spread their message to the world of tomorrow.

Now tell me, is such an outrage justified? SMS your opinions with "Yes", "Of course" or "Hell yes" to India TV

Open Letter to a Teacher

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 12:23:00 +0000

Disclaimer: Dear reader, if "somehow" you turn out to be my teacher then by no means this letter is written by me. I copied it from the link stated in the end.

Dear Teacher,

How have you been? I hope everything is good. Although nothing is at my end, majorly because of the project on Robotics that has to be submitted to you by this week. It is giving me sleepless nights. In case you still have not guessed, I am a second year student in your institute. I have somehow gathered some courage to write this letter to you with an anonymous name so that you cannot deduct 5 marks from my internals, again. Although I would have loved to write with my name but I cannot risk losing anymore marks.

I want to divert your assiduity on what actually pupil think. However, before that I would like to tell you that the whole college knows about your affair with Mr. Sharma, our Physics lab assistant. I hereby request you to stop hiding it, and oh BTW you both are so perfect for each other, both with pessimistic thoughts towards your own "humble" students.

Coming back to the topic, this is what I want you to know:

There are two types of teacher in this world.

1. The good ones

2. The mean ones

Nevertheless, you fall in the rarest category the cruelly mean ones. Curious, which ones are these? Ah! Rarest.

Well, we the students have zero affinity towards the methodology of your teaching and always curse the way they check the papers. You brutally deduct marks and nothing ...NOTHING not even our tears move you. We believe that you allot marks based on the class performance, which is wrong. You gave me five marks out of 30 due to low attendance, ignoring the fact that despite your brutal checking I managed to pass, somehow.

You are bias to the ones who “serve” you to those who choose to ignore your tea demand in between the lecture. You sound so blatant during the lectures that we prefer listening to Metallica, even they sound much more pleasant than you. Engineering is not a child’s play and we are not even a prodigy hence good internal marks are prerequisite to clear the external examination. "You treat us like congressional representatives even though we strictly oppose them" (It is a metaphor in case you misunderstood me).

No course of action is been taken on our letters directing administration toward the kind of behaviour shown by you. Either letters were scarce or a electronics teacher is not available anywhere. Due to this, we have to relinquished writing letters and have to come up with something against your crotchety (euphemism). Preens by you are on crescendo and frankly, we are not mature enough to comprehend boasting you flaunt. It is a delight to you but turmoil for us.

How to improve –

Yeah right, I will give you suggestions and I hope you do pay some heed to them. There are a variety of measures, which can be taken by you to halt the fear.

#1. Understanding your students, as humans and as frustrated engineering students

#2. The policy of “giving” – obviously marks.

#3. No commotion if one suffers from low attendance.

#4. Not being a sexist.

#5. Not calling parents and complaining them.

Hence, I request you to, please mull over the unanimous class voice. I hope you will change and adapt some human friendly methods while teaching. Until then we will continue bunking your lectures or listening to Metallica in your classes

Thank you.

Yours sincerely

Anonymous

(No Offence, no, seriously)

| This post was first written for The EP!C Magazine — "Ensemble of Plainly Idiosyncratic Citizens" Magazine. Original piece can be read here.

Face—Two Face

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 10:08:00 +0000

P.S This chat is not in association with Coca Cola, Pepsi, Huggies Diaper, Vicco Turmeric Cream and not even with MDH Masala.

Lately I have been wondering what I shall write as a blog post and then a fantastic idea struck into my mind. Why should I write a post alone? Interview is the most glorious way to ease the burden. However, I will have to credit the interviewee, hence I asked a "very good friend" of mine to pop up on my blog (like an ad) for an unofficial chit chat.

So Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the author of a "widely read blog" (That is what she told me) Aura of Sleepless Dreams; Samadrita.

Since Samadrita is so much happy and honoured to be here so let us just skip the sissy formal talks if it is okay with her.

Samadrita - Sure, but how much will you pay me for this post? Oh sorry we'll talk about this later via mail.

Prateek – Samadrita, it is a Bengali name but what I want to know is, the meaning behind it.

Samadrita- Samadrita comes from the word “Samadar” and refers to a female who is loved and

respected by all. XD Don’t I live upto my name? :P

Prateek - Oh yes you do. Who knows it better than me. Eh!

Prateek – You have been blogging since 2008. Whoa! How did you stumble upon the thought to blog?

Samadrita - It wasn’t a conscious decision to get into regular blogging. I just remember reading about a shocking newspaper report on the murder of a 10 year-old for an i-pod and felt the need to share my views somewhere. Before this I had read about how blogging had become a hip new trend for netizens and hence decided to get a blog myself. A platform where I could write and let myself be heard.

Prateek – Okay! Your blog name is quite eccentric in its own and so is the description. It gives a feeling of insomnia; though the content you pour is opposite. I want an explanation.

Samadrita - Honestly, the name of the blog was suggested by a very close friend of mine, Atindriyo. He has a poetic streak in him and came up with the name based on my nocturnal tendencies. I stay up late either reading or watching stuff or pursuing any of my hobbies. Never go to sleep right away. I liked the name instantly because it exuded such a surreal charm.

Prateek – Blogs you love stalk, of course else than mine.

Samadrita - Purba di’s A-musing, Giribala’s The Grist Mill, The Great Jhunjhunwala’s Secret Journal, Nethra’s Otiose Opinions, greatbong.net, Pritish Nandy’s blogs in TOI ...ah too many names to mention.

Prateek – You are an avid reader, what else Sammy likes.

Samadrita - Sammy likes irritating you. :P I like music. Sing once in a while myself. I like gathering knowledge on anything and everything. Have a special interest in Japan and the Japanese language. And only recently I’ve gotten interested in South Korea. Current affairs, news items, politics hold a special place in my heart too.

Prateek - Irritating feeling is mutual. We indeed have so much in common.

Prateek – Though it is impossible but if given a chance, where would you like to pay a visit – Moon or Venus?

Samadrita - Moon. I’m not too knowledgeable about the atmosphere prevailing in Venus. Moon seems closer to the earth having a safer environment. So moon, from a practical point of view. :P

Prateek – Here is a rapid fire round—

Shahrukh Khan or Uday Chopra
None? Okay SRK if I really need to choose.
Delhi or Banglore
Bangalore
Himesh Reshammiya or “New” Sonu Nigam
Geez can't I have an option I can actually choose? New Sonu Nigam. Eh!
Japanese Drama or Korean Drama or Indian Drama
Korean Dramas
Karan Johar's Movies or Ram Gopal Verma's Movies
Okay this is a tough one I hate both of 'em but Karan Johar
Punjab Kesari or India TV
Seriously speaking I dunno about either. Never watched India tv for more than 2 mins.
Taylor Swift or Demi Lovato
Taylor Swift. Her music is good....no honestly!
Touch or QWERTY
Qwerty
Hill Station or Beach
Hill Station
Anime or Cartoon
Anime
Shaktimaan or Gangadhar
Shaktiman
Ravinder Jadeja or Ajit Aggarkar
Err pass? Ajit Agarkar
Love Songs or Peppy Songs
Love Songs. Taylor Swift tch-tch.
Blackberry or Blueberry
Blueberry
Blackberry or Nokia
Nokia

Prateek – Does any of your relative reads your blog? What are their opinions?

Samadrita - Only mom does. She offers me criticism mostly about where I could’ve written better or more eloquently.

Prateek - Lucky you. My mom only likes to see me with my course books. Envy you.

Prateek – What would be your reaction if one day you wake up and find yourself turned into a man?

Samadrita - I’ll be devoutly thankful for then I wouldn't have to spend my entire life with another man. :P on second thoughts, I love being a woman and would never even consider being born as a man in any of my next lives.

Prateek – You must have felt awesome when I asked you for an interview like chat.

Samadrita - Oh I totally did. I am honoured to be interviewed by a normal blogger for once. Last I was interviewed, the interviewer turned out to be a fake blogging platform, headed by a sworn plagiarist. This is way way way better than that. :P

Prateek - At least your interview was published. My interview was lost and was never seen. :|

Prateek – Your tip to those who are often called Orkutiyas?

Samadrita - Dudes, you need to devise a more sophisticated way of hitting on babes in the virtual world. The Orkutiya way is turning obsolete and too obvious.

Prateek - Am I irritating you?

Samadrita - No not at all if it is a competition. I never lose.

Prateek – Since we can do this forever and ever let us seal this chat with a last question. Please tell everyone about me. Yes, you can use boastful words for me I won't mind.

Samadrita - Well to me, you’re a darling and an awesome blogger friend. And the friendship that I share with you was never made on the basis of exchanging blog comments. It just developed on its own pace and that is the real reason that I’m so happy to be doing this interview with you instead of just anyone else. And as far as your blog is concerned, I follow it because of the content. Your sense of humor will take you places, I guarantee it.
Prateek - Aww! How cute but still I get to irritate you!

Thank you Sammy you can sleep now. I will bother you next time for a new post.

From The Diary of a Bullied Husband

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 02:22:00 +0000

17^th June

Dear diary,

Today I am celebrating 2 years of my marital status. For days, I have been conglomerating my thoughts in you. Most of them being rants and ordeals, but from tomorrow everything will change; I will rebuke, and will fly out of her dark and snobbish aura, which had been excruciating me and even my solace for years. Therefore, I will jot a synopsis of my journey from where it all started for the very last time. I am thankful to you for being a mute spectator and listening to me as a friend with a deep sympathy.

Anecdote

I was an astute man before I got married, I lost all my sharpness; rusted and ditched, “queen of astuteness” bestowed over me. I remember she asked me, “Can you cook?” in our first meeting, what I never knew was; my answer will be taken too literally.

Deceptive

It was a fugitive delight when I got married. Did you notice the word “fugitive?” Soon we moved into our new home that I bought. In addition, that was the time when se unearthed her real self. She was not a zombie but something much more horrific than a zombie is—a sweet talker, aka manipulator (Said in a slow trembling tone) *Heavy Sigh*.

Cliché

Making me clean the untidy dishes after working for nine straight hours is the most generous act according to her morals. She soon demanded to relinquish my control on the capital expenditure, a full share in my salary. I thought it was a good thing but sending me office with just Rs 200 as a pocket money; what in the world does that means?

I am always treated like I am a Congressmen even though I cast my vote on the name of Behen Mayawati.

Emancipation Seized

Soon she learned how to drive my car; I was force to commute via cycle to my office. She uses car for her own purpose now—parlours visit, stalking Sheila’s (Resident in the adjacent block) place, discovering new malls with 40-60% off hoarding, spa, bakery, etc.

Last Ditch of Effort

Infidelity, rather a failed infidelity was the outcome of her such impulsive acts on me. My beloved Sheila dropped me after knowing “I” am a husband to Mohini. Even Kanta bai refused me. Moreover, when I thought things could not go worse from this, God took it as a challenge. Sheila and Kanta bai told Mohini how desperately I urged them (a typical women trait). Now along with dishes I had to clean the floor with ~~Hussain~~ Harpic.

Antipathy

Life was throwing tantrums at me. I could not even start an affair with my secretary knowing what happened with me last time. With Rs 200 in pocket and a packed Tiffin box what could I had accomplish? I tried to explain my critical living to my mom but could not; a guilt of getting “oppress” by own wife takes over me every time. The more I try to endure, the more diabolic she becomes. It was not much time ago when I planned to revive and polish my intellectuality. Using sharpness against sharpness seemed to be the only ticket out of here.

Cagey

With all the planned captive skills in my sleeves, I will attack her tomorrow and shall let you know how I prevailed. Till then—good night.

Rohan.....

18^th June

Dear diary,

I am seeking for a lawyer. Mohini, physically assaulted me last night and is planning to sue me. All my plans went in vain. Please pray for me...........

Rohan.....

Retro-Day in the Life of Engineer Prateek

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 06:41:00 +0000

| This guest post is written by Anita Menon who blogs at Slice of My Life. A heartfelt thank to her for such an "amazing" post.

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction with resemblance to only one living person who is none other than Mr. Prateek Bagri. He invited me to do a guest post for his blog and wanted it to be funny/interesting. This is what I have got! I have used some twitter-related parlance such as tweets and mentions.

Guest Post- Retro-Day in the Life of Engineer Prateek

It was a typical summer day at the “Some Institute of Engineering and Technology” but the campus was exceptionally silent. The leaves rustled across the dust beaten cemented compound of the institute. The heat seemed to sizzle the institute's building and the peon checked his watch again. There was still an hour to go before he could ring the bell and announce the end of the examination. Through one of the windows, he noticed a student glance into his classmate’s answer sheet. He shook his head in repugnance. He had seen this year after year, the faces changed but the habits remained unchanged. Suddenly he heard shuffling of feet on the corridor and turned to look. He didn't expect any student to come out of the examination hall so early. He recognized the familiar face immediately. Thats the Bagri boy!!

Prateek looked from his cell phone and found the peon staring at him. He just shrugged and started to climbed down the institute’s steps with his eyes still glued to his Sony Ericsson W705. He chuckled to himself while he scrolled down his twitter timeline. People can be unbelievably hilarious, he thought to himself. He tweeted,”Exam over. What a relief!" A second later, ' Ping', he looked to check and found a mention

'How did you do your exam?' tweeted @dazzler

"It was okay. What’s important is it's over!" Prateek tweeted back.

"I think you tw'ted in the middle of your exam. How did you do that? You lot don't take your exams seriously do you?" chided @dazzler

Prateek was taken aback by that comment but paused for a bit before replying " You lot were so concerned about your exams to the point of pure boredom. Yes, you must have been a boring lot!"

Prateek knew that @dazzler had a degree in "Mechanical engineering," completed in 2oo2, which was light years ago, in his opinion. He felt, she did not have a single funny bone in her body. He kind of pitied the time that she would have gone to study at her engineering college. He was absolutely sure; she would have no idea about having a good time.

"Ping' he scrolled to see another mention from @dazzler ' Oh you think I had a boring time at college, only studying. You are so wrong. I had a fabulous time"

"Yeah Yeah, I am sure *chuckles to himself*" he wrote back.

"I wish that you could go back in my time, to see how amazing going to college was at time. Not crowded by cell phones, twitter!!" @dazzler answered

"What no cell phone? I feel sorry for you!" he answered genuinely.

"I feel sad, you would never know a life uninundated with social media clutter and technology" replied @dazzler and closed the conversation.

Prateek boarded the 5:30 p m Metro and reached his home in half an hour. He decided to watch some anime that he had downloaded the other night, when he should have actually spent that time studying. He lay down on his bed with his laptop on his stomach and started watching. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Next morning he woke up he had the shock on his life. He found himself in a large classroom with wooden benches and he had been sleeping on one. His body pained at different places and his head throbbed. Where was he? This place didn't look like his classroom or any classroom at this insti. Something was so wrong. The blackboard in front of him was the old fashioned blackboard which had to be written upon with a chalk. His institute had the white marker board. This was all so wrong!!

His first impression was he had been kidnapped while sleeping and brought over to this strange place by this Kidnappers. If that was the case, where were the kidnappers? He was almost about to dial 100 on his cell phone which still in his pocket, when he heard a loud animated voices coming from outside of the class. Within seconds, he found a large group of boys and girls filing into the classroom with books and pens in their hands. They were all talking amongst themselves and took no notice of Prateek at the back of the classroom. Then one of them turned and looked around to spot Prateek and exclaimed, " Look guys, we have a junior in our class trying to attend a seniors' lecture!" All the students turned their attention towards Prateek and he felt color rise to this cheeks. He quickly bent his head down and started to walk out of the class. On his way out, he noticed that students were actually WRITING in their note books! At their institute they used the laptop to capture any notes and the prof anyways gave them the printed copy of his notes.

Outside, he wandered the massive corridor still trying to figure out what had happened. He found himself suddenly swarmed from all sides with students, hundreds on them. They all looked funny. None of the guys had their hair done in spikes or even gelled. The girls looks funny in high waist jeans and no make up at all. The girls in his college would rather die than show their face without make up and they all wore low waist jeans.

"Psst, aren't you coming to class?" he heard a voice and turned around. He saw himself face a chubby girl who wore pigtails. He found himself almost bursting with peals of laughter but he controlled himself. Who in the right mind would make pigtails and come to college?? But she looked innocent and he gathered that she had mistaken him to be a first year student. Just for fun he decided to follow her. Meanwhile he checked his cell phone reception and got nothing. He noticed nobody had a cellphone in their hand or for that matter a laptop. ‘How did they get on with their day, without these basics?’, he wondered aloud.

He followed the girl to the class and sat down next to her. He soon realized that boys sat separately from the girls. He immediately got up and occupied a seat at the end of the class all by himself. The professor came in and started his monologue and in between he found students making paper rockets, a guy sketching a caricature of the professor and passing it around the class. The girl whom he had followed at the beginning of the class was flying one of the paper rockets and Prateek found himself laughing. The professor had no clue about what was going on. Since the attendance was already done, he found that pig tailed girl slowly sneaking out of the class and running away. Many students followed her suit and he felt like doing the same. All the while the professor had his back turned toward the blackboard. He caught up with the girl and smilingly exclaimed ," Hey, you have some guts!! I have never done this stuff before” She simply shrugged and noticed his cell phone. She demanded to see it and ooh - aahed over it! He asked her if she was on twitter or facebook but drew a blank from her. She took him to college canteen where a huge band of boys and girls were chatting vociferously. Everybody was deeply engaged in conversation, jesting and there was an air of general camaraderie. He joined them and effortlessly blended in. They were discussing movies and one movie in particular , " Kaho na pyaar hai". It was then that he realized that he had journeyed back to a retro era and it was the year 2000!!!!

He felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He looked around him and realized he did not fit yet he was actually having a good time. When was the last time, he would had looked up from his cell phone while talking to his friend. For the record his friends never looked up from their BB too!! Life was refreshingly different and it came as a surprise that the absence of a virtual life made it all the more fun. He snapped out from his thought when he was nudged by the pig tailed girl wanting to share her snack with him. He smiled and took a bite from the sandwich though as a principle he never ate at his college canteen as his immune system wasn't the best. But once he knew that he would be alright.

Time passed and one by one everybody started to leave for home. The girl in the pigtails whose name he hadn't asked all this time, came over to him and said her good byes. Suddenly on an instinct he asked her, “Can I have your email id?"

“Why do you need my email id? I hardly ever check my email. Do you know the prices at the internet cafe? Its 40 Rs per hour!!" she responded.

"On second thoughts, here, you can have it." she said with a smile and scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it over to him.

Prateek glanced at the paper and was stunned at what he read. He felt the space closing in on him and the girl in the pig tails fading in the background. He found himself back in his room with the laptop on his tummy from last evening. He got up, put the laptop away and realized he had a scrap of paper in his hand. He smiled when he re-read the scrap again.

The writing on the piece of paper had dazzler(at)hotmail(dot)com scribbled on it.

Bollywood Ishtyle

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sun, 29 May 2011 16:49:00 +0000

After living in a country which has strived for almost two decades for something "cool", I have realized the true imitation potential of its citizens. Some choose to go public and some practice covertly. It isn’t easy to implant hypothetical genes of your favorite chocolaty actor or curvy actress inside your chromosomes. It requires a lot of practice, dedication and hard work but after you have successfully copied and created an identical ABC actor or a clone within yourself, now comes the time to flaunt your blatant act publicly. (But if implantation jeopardizes the end results can hang you between bizarre and WTF is this? I'm not accusing Rohit Bal in any case here.) Assuming that majority have successfully completed the positioning of "alien" genes into their cells, it is now time for spectators to witness this turmoil (the exact word, though less brutal). The copycats always prejudice their AoI (Act of Imitation) as an unmatched manoeuvre, this momentarily happiness and modesty doesn't allow the "normal's" to break the jinx.

I never knew Chopra Uncle; my neighbor, was such an obsessive imitator of "Vijay Deenanath Chauhan." He would always croon his Father, Mother and Village name and his exact “age.” Apparently his DOB is his Facebook login password. I once saw him in a chat with Shobha aunty; Durgesh uncle's wife. But that is an off topic discussion. Chopra uncle has successfully managed to turn his family to a new and most widely practiced religion in India; bollywood. His wife had lately emerged as a strong Madhuri Dixit worshiper. She always seems to crave for a perfect day and every year selects holi to be the D-day for display of her AoI. Chopra aunty is found draped in a green Saree. When the maximum crowd is ogling her she start dancing on “Hum pe ye kisne hara rang dala.” Saree in his daughter’s wardrobe dictionary is an obsolete. According to her virtues; "draping self in a saree is so-not-like-Katrina" (Said in a fake UK accent).

Patel uncle’s family minus his wife is yet another case smitten by Bollywood-o-philia. He chooses to go dramatic to notch superlative degree of suspense. Uttering with a pause after a prolong silence is his way to tribute bollywood. Though Patel aunty is always seen unhappy with his this sweet gesture but can’t help; a man is a man. His son idolizes Ranbir Kapoor. He even got a Docomo connection after watching Ranbir’s hilarious comic stand up.

Proposing a girl with an elegant touch of Shahrukh Khan's open arm pose; just to reduce the nodes of denial down to minimum is done by abundant of bolly-aspiring aspirant. Proposal becomes interesting if the girl herself turns out to be an aspirant. Quickly understanding the stammering; Ru..Ru..Ru..Ruchi, girl makes her move. A soft denial with the fragrance of Amisha Patel (Amisha Patel is Ashit Patel's sister. And Ashmit Patel was related to Riya Sen. Riya Sen is......err you might have figured the odd face out); boy’s compelling words anagram to Hrithik's and finally girl’s yes like Manissha Lamba's "no".

Surprisingly Chander Uncle’s son isn’t trying to reproduce Abhishek Bachchan or am unable to decipher his out-of-the-box behavior, eh! Being Mallika Sherawat isn’t an easy task too hence no one is up for it. It requires astuteness and different/unique handkerchief apparels in wardrobe. No one is that rich.

Sunny Deol’s mass appeal to his imitators is so adhesive that they ended up installed a hand pump in their veranda. Imitator everyday with a ray of hope and sheer blessings from Dharmendra's 8X10 picture hanging above the study table gives a try to rip it out; failure has never been his reason to be afraid (spirit of a champion). Bobby’s fan keep himself away from everything; he is always seen preoccupied, adoring Bobby’s last "single" hit movie, Soldier; hence he choose to rest like always for eternity.

The subject of contend has now drifted to Nana Patekar. Why no boy or girl or even et cetera wants to adapt him? Is his dialogue taken too literally by the citizens? I can understand Nirupa Roy but Nana isn’t dada yet (yes Dada is a pun here.).

Height of Devotion—

We visit PVR's, Fun Cinema's, Big Cinema's (Big Cinema is the name of the theater, not to be mistaken for big-cinema) to catch latest flicks by ~~Ram Gopal Verma~~ Mahesh Bhatt and often Karan Johar. To cut ourselves from the materialistic world of goners and dabble into the unrealistic (much more unrealistic in Karan Johar movie) world but have deplorably flunked to realize the devotion and religiousness hidden behind the force which polarized our body and attracted us to the theater...........This is power concealed within the India's religion – Bollywood.

Interview: Osama Unplugged

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Tue, 17 May 2011 03:50:00 +0000

Image courtesy- The Times of India

With the assassination of world’s #1 most wanted terrorist, Osama Bin Laden; America is living in peace. Whining and winning go hand in hand, (let us say “Clinton—Bush” – “Obama.”) The only place which went with an atmosphere of non-celebration was journalist’s headquarters’ building. With a “dream” of interviewing Osama once in life died with Osama for them. They were left so much dishearten that channels had almost started showing the actual news. Then came a "boy" out of nowhere who posted Osama's interview on his blog; unreal, right!?!

He was sitting by the clouds when a care taker called Osama to attend a call from Earth for a special interview. ~~Obama~~ Osama went flabbergasted. Not expecting a fame call can make you go dumb, so got Osama. “Who are you? Human or Jihadi”, asked Osama. “Sir, I am a blogger who wants to interview you and make some money out of it” was his lame reply.

—Ah! I know this term. This blogging came into existence after 4 years of my epic 9/11. So, you write because you have nothing else better to do; right?

–No-no sir, you are getting this absolutely wrong. I blog because I love to do it, it has turned my interest unlike yours.

—Oh! So you know my interests? How sweet. But boy I must tell you out of every single interest making bombs especially human bombs is my favorite. Apart from this I love to travel and so far I find only “Abbottabad” the loveliest of them all, followed by New York and London. I feel like Abbottabad is my second home, also safest with military guarding 24x7.

–Sir, you are right. Perhaps media was wrong. You really are interesting a ~~person~~ soul. But please pardon me if I may sound indecent or too up close and personal.

—You are just a kid. Why would I “bombard” you? I merely run out of temper, ask my wife(s).

–Yes, she is a "noble soul"; husband-oriented wife, I would say.

—I thought you were here for an interview?

–Oh yes! Let us begin. Sir, are you satisfied with what you have accomplished in life?

—Personally yes, I had 5 wife’s and 19-20 children. But there were certainly so many missions in my “Western Digital 1 terabyte hard disk” (now under the possession of USA) whom were to be accomplished but on the sad note I couldn't achieve my goal, sorry Abba (teary eyes). I had a dream rather call it a vision to unite the world for good; ~~forcing~~ turning everyone’s perception and religion to “jihad.” This isn’t an easy task.

–Yes sir but don’t you think it is unfair to brainwash people by luring them with 72 virgins? I am apocryphal on this claim.

—I was too much sure that I’d finally get what I deserve but fuck my mentor who gave me this bait. This is a pure lie. There is nothing like this here. I am searching for that “son-of-two-man” who deliberately pushed me here.

–Sir, you must keep it cool. I can understand how you feeling after the wrong info are provided to you. But I must thank God that he saved you from getting a MTNL connection. It’s a pain in “….”! I mean “head”. Let’s just skip and slip to our next section; your childhood. How was it? Please enlighten us, I am pretty sure how have never aspired to be a “jihadi” at first place.

—Oh childhood, those blissful days; black and white movies followed by Amitabh, Vinod Khanna, Rishi Kapoor’s movies, non-handy bomb technology, ill-equipped arms, no Facebook – Twitter, thank God “No Orkut” and no Mayawati. At that time we were on our own. Life was hard but not so fast, I had real contacts with my friends. Ah! Sorry, I break down when it comes to childhood. You are very right blogger; I never wanted to end up as a “jihadi”. I had always dreamed to be a “Nuclear Engineer from IIT-Delhi.”

–Whoa! You must have been a hardcore nerd?

—Yes, you can say this blogger but next time try to be polite.

–I think I must say a goodbye to you now. I don’t have enough balance, call rates here are quite expensive.

—Okay blogger but do tell every reporter to come on skype from next time.

–Sure Osama sir. Thank you for your precious time. Hope you have a great time and wonderful afterlife ahead.
Osama again occupies his regular seat adjacent to the boiler and slips into his solitude.
"

|This interview was first published on News That Matters Not

Open Letter to a Classmate

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sun, 08 May 2011 13:37:00 +0000

Dear classmate,

How are you? I hope you are “doing” fine. I am writing this letter to convey my sincere regards to you. I find these days of summers as the most promising time to pen my mind down to you perhaps because it will satisfy my itch to thank you for everything. It gives me immense pleasure to write to you. Please bear with me.

You can make me go to sleep, anytime!

It has been a long time, precisely few months less in a couple of year that I’m watching your face everyday just for the sake of attendance. It wasn’t long that you suddenly drift away from me and started your own “Anti-Me Campaign”; it was really heartening to see how hard you tried to expand your “jihadi” group which started from two and ended up with only one; you.

I want to clear my doubts with you in this post. I like the way you every time try to flaunt how cool you are against me. It makes me believe that “I’m also cool”. Blasting a bomb in college campus is not a heroic act rather I call it "kiddish." I had stopped doing this since I was in 8th standard, now it is boring. You call yourself a “beer frenetic” but you always avoid visiting a bar, even the one with the cheapest rates. You promised to throw a big lavish birthday party for your “friends” but were absent for straight 7 days from the date of your birthday (excluding Sunday). On the 8th day you gave your birthday treat as a “free” Corneto to everyone, of course except me.

You were mad at me for months after this peppy conversation—

You – My Dad will buy a big car which cannot be reverse on the road after he retires. His pension will be huge.
Your Friend – Oh my god! Really!
Me – पापा को बोलियों ट्रेन ले लें | वो ही reverse नहीं हो सकती बस | [English Translation – Ask your Dad to get a train. It is the only thing which cannot be reverse on road]

It has been a year yet I cherish this out of the blues answer.

Your attire and how peculiarly you get them on your body is one of the many things I adore about you. T-shirt tucked into you formal pant with hawai chappal in feets. I must say I cannot win against you when it comes to fashion. I am pretty sure you will look sexy in T-shirt + Bow + Lower too.

Your group discussion on topics like this [Link] has always made you a centre of attraction. Girls may not tell you but they are planning to complaint the college administration for such ~~indecent~~ cute discussions. You call yourself a great motorcyclist but I can see dozen of dents on your "Rajdoot." This isn’t fair “classmate”. Yesterday I by mistake stumble upon a text which you sent to our common friend—“it wS relli kEwL [Human Translation — It was really cool].” No-no I wasn't prying into his inbox; his cell phone unfortunately happened to be with me when you text'ed him.

You go by bus and I prefer metro yet you claim to see me sitting on a stop alone with face like yours (Indecent types). I think I am always in your mind because of some “personal” reasons. Please don’t get me wrong I am not putting any allegation on you for being a “gay.” Why would I comment on your “unknown” orientation?

I've also heard that with a fake account you send requests to "Hawt" Delhi University girls. You are so lucky that you got a way to vent out your desperation. But my soul doesn't allow me to do such a thing, people consider doing this as an "Orkut Stuff."

Lately I’ve been receiving number of hate Emails and private messages on facebook which includes various and vibrant abuses despising my writing. The style of indecent slang is exactly like yours; I mean who else writes like a “drunk-sick vegetable vendor?” I want to let you know, I love your despise.

Your indirect rants in public are something I have been ignoring from the very beginning. You might find me low on intelligence that I am unable to decipher you but trust me every time the class laugh all together, I make you the subject of their half an hour happiness. You must understand Delhi is also a Murder Capital along with Rape (All hail our Sheila Dikshit)

Please align yourself as a human; my sincere request.

Regards –

| P.S No human, animal, et cetera was hurt while writing this post.

The Great Comedy in Indian Shows

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 15:56:00 +0000

India television has been marked with eras. People go along the flow, entertainment is the basic entity. It doesn’t matter what kind of entertaining is being piled. Since I am a child of 90’s, the decade where India finally met and wed the globalization. A decade when Chetan Bhaghat was just an engineering aspirant, a decade which was marked with the release of the movie Border, a decade in which neither Uday Chopra nor Abhishek Bachchan thought to debut as a newcomer. As the time progressed TV shows categorized themselves—

Era of एकता में अनेकता

Ever since I gained my cautious for the television, one, and the only name making headlines was Ekta Kapoor. Her reel dramas soon turned into real dramas. Time was not far when Indian husbands got severely retarded with the buckets sitting along the sofas to catch their wife’s precious tears. Mihir made a benchmark and Tulsi was making a perfect brain wash. Wives calling husband as “Mihir” created a perfect name jeopardy. “Suspecting husband” aka The Fa Deodrant effect also made its place in the household works. Along with it brought handful amount of daily soaps which constraint housewives from cleaning entire house to only sofa and television set.

She (एकता कपूर, Sister/of तुषार कपूर, Daughter/of जितेंदर) ruled the world of drama for a long reign and finally her episodes started dying and eventually died (Law of Nature – Something which is born is ought to die). Women showed their great dismal, husbands now were getting breakfast and dinner on time, sons and daughter’s school visits were no longer procrastinated. Everything came back to normal (Women shares a different perspective).

Era of The Talent Hunt – प्रतिभा की ख़ोज

♫ Oonchi hai building; lift teri band hai ♫ Kaise mein aaun; dil rajamand hai!?!

There was a time when finding talent had become a way to earn bread for Anu Malik and his counterparts. Consecutive seasons of Indian Idol and SaReGaMa were ruling the channels at the same time. “If Sony is making a talent show to raise its TRP then how can we be behind? Lets launch a reality show”, said TV Channels. Thus, the era begins.

Laughter show on Star One which won million of hearts but soon contestants grew up and became big time pervert. Putting double meaning in to jokes and then calling it a family show was the “height of heinousness”. Archna Puran Singh’s hysterical laughs on the joke which goes “below the belt and ends up on the ground” makes me remind of a quote “log paiso k liye kya kya karte hain”

Then came the booty shaking competitions; dance reality show. Search for the talent; all around the country. Talent made me remind of India’s Got Talent- Khoj where people from around the town came and display their act of absurdity.

I am not sure where to place Bigg Boss. What the house inmates do was no less than a talent. Each endowed with the most stupendous trait of all. India’s #1 claimed youth channel—MTV in every few month’s launches a new remake of old shows. MTV Roadies and Splitsville. Auditions wrapped with abuses, no not the choti choti gaaliyan; moti moti gaaliyan gets in handy and lately are also going trendy. Can I call it a talent show?

Something similar with another low picture quality channel—UTV Bindass. They also claim themselves to be the India’s #1 youth channel and confuse me like hell. Their shows like Dadagiri, Emotional Attyachaar, Date Trap makes me puke and the host makes my puking a constant process. I could hardly recognize I am watching a TV show not an online dating website or browsing through Orkut.

Era of खबर हर कीमत पर —

Lately news channels while ransacking have found new ways to entertain people at हर कीमत पर. From night news on DD National, to aaj tak, to Zee News, to आँखों देखी, to CNN, to CBN, to Star News, to NDTV, to “India TV”. Wait, did I mention India TV? India TV marked its beginning with a dude whose mother named him Rajat and his father gave him the name Sharma, Rajat Sharma. The soul on whose shoulders India is running. His news provokes the people. He ensures a news dent in viewers mind. Whether it is a dhongi baba or Shahid-Priyanka’s love affair or it is Rakhi Sawant’s re-breast silicon surgery or Ashmit Patel and Veena Malik’s cozy footage. They never let any opportunity to go waste. They blow trumpet as hard as they could (until their lungs gets worn out). Defaming is their synonym. They make Indian Cricket Captain M.S.Dhoni a warrior after he wins a match and sit on his chest with a sword to murder him after he loses.

Talking about entertainment on news channel Star News (आपको रखे हर दम आगे) makes me realize that they are way ahead. Saas Bahu aur Sazish, a half an hour ~~entertainment~~ trauma which brings the synopsis of basically एकता आंटी’s left soaps which does not forms any lather now.

Monotonous का एरा - (still running thankfully)—

Since Word Cup fever and IPL are making people bankrupt. People are no more glued to Star or Sony. They are now exposed to the world of cricket; which is something different and cheerleaders; who are something different. Everything goes hand in hand now which I think is better than addictive but look at the brighter side- now you are no longer a part of The Great Comedy in Indian Show.

| This post was first published here for News That Matters Not – India's leading Satire Humour Website and has been selected as a Spicy Saturday Pick by Blogadda .

Mom in Friends List. Eh!

noreply@blogger.com (Prateek Bagri) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 07:34:00 +0000

Is that a Boy with her?

Why shouldn't you be friend with your parents on Social Networking? —

I take a great honor to write this post for the sake of “us” (I wrote us in “ ” because it somehow correlates “us”). This isn't a stereotype. Making parents friends on Social Network (not the film silly) is something which majority of teens (and some above the teens) do not prefer. After all you would not like your profile to be a subject of daily prying by your parents. They will everyday go by your profile to figure out the changed behavior of their darlings. Perhaps social network (let’s call it”Facebook”) empowers the parents to deeply examine “what’s on their mind?” (here their = Son's/Daughter's) This may sound strange but a “Status Update” is enough to turn their suspect into a firm belief.

Parents are always curious to know the insight of their modern 21st century child; perhaps that is why they ask "us" to open up in front of them; but who know “our open up may shut them down”. A finite distance is something which is ought to be maintained.

On what basis am I shouting? —

Last night mother read your wall post and very next day when you wake up your she scolds you, “you will not go anywhere except college, got it?” Darn, since mom is in the friend list; she can read my wall posts.

According to a clinical psychiatrist- it is observed that children with a communication gap or who speaks less are more prone of being pried than those who are regularly in touch with their parents. The fast pace life builds a gap which gives birth of suspicions. Wow! At least I’m safe. Parents to cope with their modern child's new parameter are trying to notch the set parameter too. A working woman (name censored) from Delhi was learning how to access internet since her child found a new dimension far beyond her reach of prying. The frustration came when she couldn't enter his son’s locked Facebook account; she hired a tutor to teach her hacking. Something similar goes with the boy whose parents were in his friend list and keeps on interrogating their son’s “it is complicated” relationship status. Apart from this cyber networking world there are plenty (call it variety) of parents who are keeping a close watch on their ward's activities. Installing spying software’s in ward’s PC, keeping a close tab on him and his friend’s activities, using gadgets to locate him/her are a part of stalking (sorry, couldn’t think of anything else)

Hypothesis—

| If your parents are on your list; do not panic, just use facebook wall settings.