Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Designing a new look for my blogs

Well, since I'm free like hell, I thought might as well give both the blogs a makeover of sorts. Hope you ppl like it.


People help me help me please. You see i suck at "advertising" my blog. So here i am a naive blogger, who seeks the ultimo formula for advertising his blog so other my suffer as well (yes, I'm playing the part of a sadist here). But seriously i want people to at least see my blog and am lost as how to spread my blog viewership. C-riously; and, yes, i just wrote seriously as C-riously.

Friday, July 17, 2009

I started another blog

People before i forget i do hope you'll visit my other blog at "".
Its not the same man who is posting this blog, i.e. its a different part of me. So i honestly hope that you do give dekho to it.

Maya memsaheb, for you, not with love...

Well i should be forgiven, forgiven, forgiven; for having wasted a good deal of a half year before updating my blog. See i am very pitiful asking forgiveness. (#Sigh#)

Now here i am hoping you have forgiven me. So i may start my bigoted views, which are as much bigoted as the Chinese aggressions on its inhabitant minorities; but not as crude. Although this post is not going to be on the Chinese. Anyways, this time i thought maybe I'll try Maya memsahib as a challenge.

Mayawati , the ultimate beti of UP, a challenge for a slapstick sarcast (there is no such word as sarcast but i created it) like me you ask? Well, well, i shall answer why.

It is not that everyday a young, well not young, middle aged, lawyer cum social worker becomes a power figure of a state.

I use 'power figure' because she has become that; she has 'power'. No not physical strength or fitness, by the way is it me or does she seem to keep on piling the kilos after every successful rally (i guess that she must get a lot of 'mithai ke dibbe' both above and below the table). You can't have super strength in pure physical terms but you may be able to lift someone up, here i speak metaphorically tongue- in cheek. You can lift some one up permanently and make him go invisible forever, especially when he starts to question your strength. And she does it without moving a muscle, just by twitching her mouth to utter a few words. Now that's power.

And now coming to the 'figure' aspect(err...not her figure, she ain't no model dodo!!). Well she seems to have been able to create an aura of holy-unholy, light-dark, mumbo-jumbo about her which seems to shield her from her own shortcomings which if the people saw would surely make her run for her kilos. OK, yes you won a big constituency (read the whole of UP) just by playing the sympathy card, "for you, with you always" slogan (wait; isn't that the Delhi police catch line?)
and you are idealized by pseudo-zealots within your community; and you further get to celebrate your "growing up and old days" (read birth days) by cutting a cake that costs as much as the cost of all the meals of a day for a poor dalit family (whom you sympathize with, totlay). This was discounting the lavish "pandals" and garlands your underlings sent you along with their mithai ke dibbe courtesy some relative of theirs who requires a party ticket or a job.

But what is an ideal without idols. Shakespeare didn't write this line. It is your "love to hate" sarcast who has written these. So she is an ideal, now to cement this state of power, what do we do? We make literally an idol out of her. Rather huge, humongous monstrosities of statues of her. What exquisite detail, look it's the same handbag she carries everywhere, that the sculpture has sculpted with perfection.

Ah, yes madam, you in your salwar, and you get to be the power figure, and order people around like your the man. But mademoiselle you forget that "with great power comes great responsibility" (long live Stan Lee) and you shun the later while hoping to grope for the former. "And we all fall down".

PS : I hope you do pray for Maya memsahib's health, imagine how the amount of sugar in her blood stream must sky rocket because of all the mithais. No wonder that her bp shoots up so quickly.

Also i would like to hear your views...rather read cause this is a blog and all, you know;
i would like to hear your views on whether Mayawati is a narcissist ass or is she just plain old pompous or has she some hidden "queer" tendencies about herself.

Saturday, November 15, 2008


If you ever had the misfortune of traveling in a blue line in Delhi, India, then I sympathize with you fully. Yes, I do.

No, not because each day you get up, get ready to go to your office, school or wherever, (what do I care); hoping that the bus will come early so that you can start on with your sacrilegious monotony of a journey. Then you find out that the bus will never be on time till a whole crowd’s gathered about you, each of whom will be a shark to board bus before you. Then when it comes, it’s already quite stuffed, denying you the luxury of sitting on the nice window seat from where you lecherously look down at passing (wo)men.

Coming back to the ‘sharks’, you would have been better off listening to your PT instructor at school and shed your kilos, cause man, you cant squeeze in through the gathering at the entrance. And when you do you may just find yourself dangling from the foothold outside the bus, clutching on for dear life; while smog blows through your hair. Remember ‘Blowing in the wind’ by Dylan.

Neither would I ever envy you if you happen to get inside the bus.

Because now you would have to jostle into the deep, to find a safe spot where you will be saved from the tidal rush of more people clambering in. But wait!! You forgot to buy the ticket, and the conductor is stationed way behind. While you are contemplating whether to buy the ticket or not, your moral conscience which was asleep all this while (even when you saw your neighbour pass unwanted advances to your society sweeper’s young daughter); is suddenly awakened and you decide to buy the ticket and help the country’s economy. George Bush Jr. would be so proud. So now you traverse the whole length back, stomping on others’ foot or brushing ‘accidentally’ against (wo)men, finally reaching him. If the conductor happens to be a hotshot stud, then its always young girls first; and if he’s aged in years it’s always auntyjis first. The body may grow old, but the heart is still young.

Now that you have your ticket its back to your safe spot. You have a protective hand over your wallet. It contains your money, but importantly your wife’s picture; even more importantly “Suzzie-call me at xxx”s number. And now forward march to your spot. The people lift their arms in salute to you at 45 degrees, a perfect Nazi salute. YOU actually enjoy it, till you realize they are holding the overhead bars and that you will have to pass under their raised armpits. But you have no choice. As you hustle through the sea of stinking humanity, you notice that a few (wo)men have armpit hair. You notice this because they wear cut sleeves. Disgusted you want to puke but there isn’t any space. So you hold it in your throat till you get down.

I further will not sympathize with even when you see your destination nearing and you are trying to get down. Office will start in 15 minutes, you’ll reach your stop in 5, but to wade to the exit would take you 5, while the journey from your stop to your workplace (which is nothing more than a 4x4 cubicle in a concrete building if you are in the private sector; or it will be a seat in the tea stall if you are a government servant), will take another 5 minutes. So you hurry and push forward. Push hard, push hard!!

But you aren’t the only one. Others are also pushing you. Einstein said every action has an equal and opposite reaction. You understand the principle now, forty years after you flunked your physics papers. So it’s become a ‘I push you, you push me, we all get down’ game. And again there is a brushing of bodies, only this time some man does it, rubbing his fat buttocks against you.

Thus now that you have got down you may take the liberty of crying ‘hallelujah’; and suddenly your mundane existential sorry excuse of a life seems worth living, dying for.
Cheers. Life could not be worse, could it

Yes it could!! What if you had to puke, shit and pee on the bus and you couldn’t control yourself. Worse if you were the only who could control it, but not the rest of your comrades on the bus. Think about it.

Now I must declare here that I sympathize with you only because I can. That is, I have the freedom to; our constitution grants us that freedom. So STOP fucking up our great democracy, all you crazed people.

The end…

P.S. I didn’t include the people with seats on the buses because they are rarely seen ever again. And those who have lived to tell the tale, well lets just say thwy were not the same.

Saturday, November 1, 2008


It feels weird to have finally begun my own blog. Especially cause i was really excited about this whole 'project' of mine. Weirder still cause i really don't have anything to write about in my very first blog post. What a bummer.

So here i am trying to figure out what to say to you all.
You know what, I'll defer writing on any topic for the time to come. But I'll leave you with a pic i stumbled upon the net. Please give it a thought, will you.

Give the pic a thought before the presidential voting starts in the USA.