Monday, January 2, 2012
Monday, July 5, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
The Hijaab
Hey, sweetheart?
Yes, bolo-ji
What do you wear under the hijaab?
My usual dress, but why do you ask?
Just wondered what would happen, if you invited Victoria to the party and didn't wear anything, under the hijaab?
Nothing would happen!
How so?
The hijaab overs all, but nice idea, huh! By the way are you satan's agent here on earth?
Thought you babes were, bebo!
And how?
Your grandma, ate the damn apple isnt it?
Dont you like the apple, sweetheart?
Steve Jobs does, not me, honey.
HaHa and you are a 2-thumbed creature who boasts about the qwerty feature...
what's your take on the ipad?
You men and your toys and your jargon, ha
meaning?
we need iPad to tell us if the 8" heels are ok on us..ok?
anything else?
lots more, but isnt he gay?
gay?who?
him, the agent of the apple, is he whom me is talking about, duhling..
why the sarcasm?
coz thee are stupid!
Like Steve?
Yep!
Why pray so?
Dint I tell you
You did, but opinion more later on?
Aw, shucks forget it!
why?
coz, me forgot, hehe
remember my name?
Yes, I have put a hijaab on it..
The hijaab?
Yep
why so?
coz thee are precious, is why.
Down, doggie!
Gee!
⎝⏠⏝⏠⎠
Yes, bolo-ji
What do you wear under the hijaab?
My usual dress, but why do you ask?
Just wondered what would happen, if you invited Victoria to the party and didn't wear anything, under the hijaab?
Nothing would happen!
How so?
The hijaab overs all, but nice idea, huh! By the way are you satan's agent here on earth?
Thought you babes were, bebo!
And how?
Your grandma, ate the damn apple isnt it?
Dont you like the apple, sweetheart?
Steve Jobs does, not me, honey.
HaHa and you are a 2-thumbed creature who boasts about the qwerty feature...
what's your take on the ipad?
You men and your toys and your jargon, ha
meaning?
we need iPad to tell us if the 8" heels are ok on us..ok?
anything else?
lots more, but isnt he gay?
gay?who?
him, the agent of the apple, is he whom me is talking about, duhling..
why the sarcasm?
coz thee are stupid!
Like Steve?
Yep!
Why pray so?
Dint I tell you
You did, but opinion more later on?
Aw, shucks forget it!
why?
coz, me forgot, hehe
remember my name?
Yes, I have put a hijaab on it..
The hijaab?
Yep
why so?
coz thee are precious, is why.
Down, doggie!
Gee!
⎝⏠⏝⏠⎠
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Miyan AliBhai
It was nothing new to Miyaan Ali Bhai. This habit of coming back to the Qwerty, his familiar haunt, whenever he was excited be it be out of the sheer exuberance of feeling wanted or be it be when it was out of sheer despair. This was the habit that he always wore, comfortable as a maulvi's kurta, when he was excited. The Qwerty always welcomed him back with the same equanimity that it greeted any of the myriad bone-tired fingers that came to it for sanctuary. He was neither happy nor sad, both emotions that others have an abundance of and he, an alien to them.
He often watched them enter and exit others' lives like a yoyo gone berserk, leaving elate-puzzled faces in their wake and side-stepped them when they made their wayward way over to where they thought he was, only to leave disheartened at their unfilled quest. It was not that he did not know what they were, rather he had gotten drunk on them, quite often and was the worse because of that drunk. He did not want to that intoxication again because in the slow dance of the duo-headed spiral it was always the pain that was last to leave that taste which lingered long after he had mandatory-brushed his teeth twice and rinsed thrice; with the third rinse a slow swirl to reach into every nook and crevice of his paan-stained teeth.
And now, from some unknown grave in some unknown graveyard where he had buried these two, they had crawled back up to torture him once again, if he let them. He could hear them coming in gleeful sobs and he shuddered inwardly and shrunk into himself, steeling himself as if he would be caught in the maelstrom from which he thought he had forever escaped, he prayed for deliverance. And it did come. Just as he thought that he would hurt himself again, he pulled back from the edge of the precipice and watched as they went hurtling into the abyss, a little above his hunched shoulders and wrinkled brow fraught with the same puzzlement that people said he was born with but unclear to him as to that the puzzle was which others solved with a snap of their left thumb and forefinger.
He snapped out of his reverie to the chirp of his new mobile trying to spit out a text message and simultaneously the desperate urge of someone wanting to hear his hoarse voice. The voice made some noises about a lunch shared with someone else and a promise to stay in touch, forever through the mobile phone.
He placed the mobile on the ground. And ground it gently to silence.
He often watched them enter and exit others' lives like a yoyo gone berserk, leaving elate-puzzled faces in their wake and side-stepped them when they made their wayward way over to where they thought he was, only to leave disheartened at their unfilled quest. It was not that he did not know what they were, rather he had gotten drunk on them, quite often and was the worse because of that drunk. He did not want to that intoxication again because in the slow dance of the duo-headed spiral it was always the pain that was last to leave that taste which lingered long after he had mandatory-brushed his teeth twice and rinsed thrice; with the third rinse a slow swirl to reach into every nook and crevice of his paan-stained teeth.
And now, from some unknown grave in some unknown graveyard where he had buried these two, they had crawled back up to torture him once again, if he let them. He could hear them coming in gleeful sobs and he shuddered inwardly and shrunk into himself, steeling himself as if he would be caught in the maelstrom from which he thought he had forever escaped, he prayed for deliverance. And it did come. Just as he thought that he would hurt himself again, he pulled back from the edge of the precipice and watched as they went hurtling into the abyss, a little above his hunched shoulders and wrinkled brow fraught with the same puzzlement that people said he was born with but unclear to him as to that the puzzle was which others solved with a snap of their left thumb and forefinger.
He snapped out of his reverie to the chirp of his new mobile trying to spit out a text message and simultaneously the desperate urge of someone wanting to hear his hoarse voice. The voice made some noises about a lunch shared with someone else and a promise to stay in touch, forever through the mobile phone.
He placed the mobile on the ground. And ground it gently to silence.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Girl Arrives, Muse Disappears
Our editorial team is made up of diverse people sitting in various locations and connected through the umbilical of the Web. Most of us have different times as dictated bu our respective muses. We miss out on a lot of good stories and by the time we come up with an analysis, the story becomes cold. We have amongst our midst a prolific writer, who appeared to have had the pulse of the sorry junta who click on to our site in order to cheat on their boss of his slave-time, on their gf/bf to get away for a few by pretending to be in a meeting etc etc. But this veteran of our team shall remain anonymous because I do not want to rub salt ( iodised and non-iodised ) into his wounds. I sent the flight tickets and invited him over to Colaba and we spent the whole of Sunday and yesterday chatting about his apparent dry phase. I plied him with Single Malts and other potions that Getafix of the Asterix fame sent me from across the universe. Excerpts from our heart-to-heart blabberings:
Hey! Welcome to Colaba. Had a good flight?
Yeah,had a good fight.
Fight? With who?
My girl!
But you had sworn off girls, booze and cigarettes. You called them the vices who sucked away the vital juices. Who is this one, now?
This one is different, Maverick!
Huh? In what way? She is a woman, right? Got any thing extra?
She is sweet alright but she has put me in the dog-house right now ( Moan )
Dog-house? But why?
Her conditions are too many for me to handle. How can any one love somebody and is not allowed to show it? ( Trace of his famed anger which is but a pale shadow, now )
There are no conditions in love, dude!
Yeah! Me knows that, but how do I explain it to her? She doesnt want me to....Argh! Forget it! How's your love-life coming along?
Will tell you in a moment..tell me about these conditions of your girl. Its amazing that someone actually said yes, knowing you. HeHe
Well, I am allowed to call only once a day. No mushy-wushy SMSs'. And can visit her office once a month. No lunch dates but.
OMG! But you are known for your stupid SMSs' all over the world. In fact the previous one left you because your drool short-circuited her mobile!
There's more. ( Sniff )
More?
Yeah, more. I forgot to send her a pack of More, her favourite brand of ciggis. And now she has banned me from visiting her at home!! ( Wails )
And that one call per day, no?
Yeah, what about it?
That call is to be made only n the night when she is at her maike. And after 2 minutes, she says her people are around and let's talk tomorrow! Ha!
She is taming you, Neo. HeHeHe
In fact me is thinking of petitioning the Civil Supplies Department.
But what have they got to do with this?
They can increase the free quota of Love!
Dude, you are desperate, now! Just Chill. These are all the usual wiles to put you under her thumb. That's all.
Tell me something, Maverickji. How long did you stay in the dog-house?
Let me let you in on a secret, you poor soul!
What secret, Maverickji?
There are no exits from the dog-house. Once, you are in, you are in for life. Unless of-course you want to break free and hang from the tree and look at other kennels, enviously, for the rest of your sorry life! So, I am sending you back with fresh batteries and brand new laptop-bone. Start writing again, you dawg!
You know what she told me in Tamil?
Oh! She is from Tamilnadu, uh?
Yep and she told me not to wag my tail too much, else she will change the relationship status on Facebook.
These threats dont work with you isnt, it, Neo?
Not this time, Maverickji. Me is running scared. If I miss this one, its back to the real dog-house for me for good. OMG, you are recording all this?
Yes, this is for our Tuesday Interview with Love-Sick Puppies.
You are a bad one, Maverickji. What if she reads this?
You will get an extra bone for lunch, Neo, like us all! Welcome to the club.
| Genesis - That's All .mp3 | ||
 | ||
 | Found at bee mp3 search engine |  |
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Remembering Gandhi
Does his soul really rest in Peace? What have we done and what are we doing in his name are divergent things? Its a crying shame that we utter peace and mean piece. For this man who wanted to be celibate and woke up at 67 with something horrifying to him but gratifying to any other man of his age, were he to be born today, he would ask, if he had the right, not to be born, again.We have to look at ourselves not for what we are, but what we are evolving into.We are evolving into a people where brother falls upon brother, rapes his sister and throws his parents out. We are evolving into a people where the I is supreme and flaunt our acquisitions with a in-your-face attitude that stupefies the world. We are evolving into a people of having not double but multiple standards, holding the world to ransom with our maa-ki becoming monkey riding on the back of the very money that the world is pouring and polluting us with. We are evolving into a people that pride ourselves of the friezes of Khajuraho and yet **** and *** has to be written as phuck and cex. We are evolving into a people that Baapu once wanted out and have forgotten what we really were. We have forgotten what Namaste means.We have forgotten what Vannakkam means. We have forgotten what As Salaam Aleikum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh means. We have forgotten what Sat Sri Akaal means.We have forgotten our selves.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
