I need to say it before its too late..

I always postponed it, reasoning that there was time.. "No sense in upsetting the apple cart right now, people wont be able to understand my feelings."

However, the events that have unfolded in the last few days have forced my hand.

I love Rakhi Sawant.

Yes, you read it right.

I love Rakhi Sawant.

I thought that she was destined to be another failed starlet. Soon she was would be another face in the crowd I would swoop down.

Then came along the swayamvar. A coupla dozen losers have been given a chance at laying their hands on something I have been coveting since Ehsaas: A Feeling was released.

Mika(poor misunderstood Mika) called last night. We have been best friends since 3rd grade. He was inconsolable.

"Aye bhai, tune pappi kyun lene di?"

No one man can have Rakhi. Her beauty along with the uber-sexy accent (Ainjoy, Phun) would drive him crazy. That is why we had an agreement to share her.

Now some dumbass from Rishikesh might get to keep the greatest prize since Mae West.

The only good thing this show has done is prove conclusively that she is truly the archetypal "Bharatiya Naari"(Roll over and die Savita bhabhi fans).


My only hope is that this message reaches Rakhi and the producers offer me a wild card entry into the show... or atleast a "Best of Rakhi" DVD.



D

Chi loved himself... infact Id daresay he loved himself more than anyone else.

Chi lived in an apartment in Bandra, alone. He never married, never dated, and actively eschewed any contact with the outside world over and above that was absolutely necessary. Not eccentric, he just couldnt bear the thought of sharing himself with anyone else.

Although most would actively refute this, Chi made an excellent companion for himself. He would spend many an hour admiring himself in the mirror, whispering sweet nothings into his own ear, even sending the occassional sms to his own number.

Things went along smoothly for the first 40 years of Chi's life. On the eve of his birthday, a fever descended upon him. He recovered in a couple of days but this left a gnawing worry in his mind.

Life was ephemeral.. try as he might, he knew he wouldnt be there for himself forever. Sooner or later, he would be left all alone.

The mere thought of life without himself was unbearable for Chi...

On the morning of Feb 21st, Chi kissed himself one last time. Then he jumped.

He died holding the hand of the person he loved. Not a bad way to go..


D

"Life is bitter, so is chocolate"

One of the best forwards I have come across in a long long time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little rabbit happily running through the forest stumbles upon a giraffe

rolling a marijuana cigarette. The rabbit looks at her and says, "Giraffe

my friend, why do you do this? Think about your health. Come with me

running through the forest, you'll see, you'll feel so much better!" The

giraffe looks at him, looks at the joint, tosses it and goes off running

with the rabbit.

Then they come across an elephant doing opium, so the rabbit again says,

"Elephant my friend, why do you do this? Think about your health. Come

running with us through the pretty forest, you'll see, you'll feel so

good!" The elephant looks at them, looks at his razor, mirror and all, and

then tosses them and starts running with the rabbit and giraffe.

The three animals then come across a lion about to take a heroin shot...

The rabbit says "Lion my friend, why do you do this? Think about your

health! Come running with us through the sunny forest, you will feel so

good!" The lion looks at him, puts down his needle, and starts to beat the

hell out of the little rabbit.

As the giraffe and elephant watch in horror, they look at him and ask,

"Lion, why did you do this? He was merely trying to help us all!"

The lion answers..... .....

That little devil makes me run around the forest like an idiot for hours

every time he's high on cocaine!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:)

D

A story inspired by "You know who".

Chi was a bug. On the morning of July 3, he woke up as a human.

Like the millions of bugs around him, he lived a rather bugging life. His ancestral home, a hole under a tree in America housed Chi, Frieda(His wife) and their four thousand kids.

Everything seemed.... different.

"What have you done to yourself? What will become of us now that you have become a disgusting human." cried Frieda.

The elders, a group of 268 bugs summoned Chi to their castle in a bid to resolve the matter. "Are you Chi?" they asked. Chi answered, " Cant you see, has this metamorphosis blinded you to what lies beneath? I have worked with you all, lived with you all!".

Elders - "You are obviously an impostor. Chi was a bug, he is a bug, will always be a bug. You are a human who is trying to take his place. We bugs might be small but we are not stupid. Tell us who you work for and why are you trying to take Chi's place".

Try as he might, the elders refused to believe him. The trial was suspended and he was cast out of the gathering. He trudged back home to a morose Frieda.

"This is all your fault... You never thought about us once before turning into a human"

In anger he looked up to the heavens and cried out, " Why me god? Why play this joke on an insignificant bug?"

A booming voice replied, " Dunno.. I was kinda drunk last night"

D

Success!!

We finally got down to completing what we started, a quest to create flavoured cancer-sticks.
After our rather disastrous attempts to flavour tobacco(refer to previous post), we decided to adopt a different paradigm. Rather than flavour tobacco, we got hold of flavoured rolling paper!

A pouch of Golden Virginia stuffed into Jamacian Rum flavoured paper... smelt luverly when unburnt. At times like this I wish that ciggarettes didnt:

• Cause Cancer
• Leave you smelly
• Give you such a fleeting rush

- Till such things happen I shall remain a non-smoker(Also, wannabe teetotaller).

On a different note, my school friends were back in Delhi for a brief chutti (Yay!). Met up at Cocoa, a place at Shitty Wok. Ok place, but the waiters khao more bhaav than a hot chick at an engineering college. Decided to stick to my resolution of no hard drinks, so ordered wine.. well.. who ever got wiped out by wine, right?

A coupla bottles later (Courtesy, well paid corporate honchos/best buddies) we were well on our way to La-La land...

New resolution: Only ice tea.

D

P.S. Off to Mcleod next week! :)

Its been a rough couple on months, been working night and day to:

1. Help collect money to marry my six sisters in pomp and grandeur.
2. Save the local orphanage from the evil builder mafia.
3. Convince the ameer baap of the akeli beti that main uski aukaad ka hun.
4. Coach the local woman's volley ball team.. World Cup jo aa raha hai.

Chi has gone for a looooooooooooong vacation, the dude deserved it. However, my blog has been languishing without him so thought id try give it a fillip.


Last weekend was spent pursuing a noble cause... An attempt to add favour to cigarettes.

Well, it came to our notice that none of us had come across chocolate flavoured cigarettes in our 24 odd years of existence. The logical extension of that thread of thought led to an hairbrained attempt to create our own.

The next thing I know, we were on our way to Khari Baoli, the largest wholesale bazaar in Delhi. (FYI: Tis a part of Delhi-6).

Now that we were there, we began our search for flavoured tobacco. Three hours and lots of food later(Courtesy a short detour to Jama Masjid), we gave up. Fatboy was tired, C-dot was hungry and it occurred to us that the benefits were limited as most of us(me included) dont smoke.

• The Hippie suggested we change tack, look for flavours that could be added to normal tobacco
• C-dot came up with more lame jokes
• Fatboy was tired and wanted to sleep, naturellement.

Plan B: Add food essence to the cigarettes (Senile R Us).

Experiment 1: Fatboy being designated as our official test pilot (Scape goat) was given a cigarette which smelt like an orange bar... the result was a coughing fit.

Experiment 2: We tried adding it to the filter instead, our reasoning being that it wouldnt burn and there would still be an some flavour... the result was a gagging sound and some epithets being hurtled at our family members.

Experiment 3: Spilling some essence in Hippie's car to make it smell like Peppermint.

20:00 Hours, IST: You could smell us a mile away, a eclectic combination of Orange, Peppermint, Clove and Sandalwood.


We will probably give it another try next week...


D

Thought for the day-: "Never slap a man who chews tobacco." - Williard Scott

Chi found a pouch of Golden Virginia and a roll of Rizla in the dressing drawer...

The paper felt smooth, reassuring.
This was madness.. a pernicious decision adding to his already precarious position.
More importantly.. he hadnt rolled in a decade!

He didnt do it for the money. It was the adrenalin rush that drew him to it. To take what wasnt his, it made him feel... alive...

Rolling cigarettes is an art. The trick is to line it on the crease of a paper and then drop it straight on to the roll. That ensures that it isint top heavy or packed too tightly.

He emptied out the cupboard, Although the house was an ode to the rodomontade not much was there.. the owner must be an investment banker.

Chi took his time. Pulling too hard would cause it to burn unevenly.

He tiptoed across the hall. The loud snores emanating from the bedroom drowned out everything else.

The nicotine rush was already kicking in.

He used the stub to start the fire. Not one member of the family survived...

Chi was getting back at the world, one at a time.


D

" Life was good..
But it just got too... boring"

If you were to kill yourself at this very moment, what would be ure suicide note like?

D


P.S. I do not condone suicides. Just the rambling of an idle mind.

I fought the war she fought the beast,
The blood tasted bitter-sweet,
The prize was mine, all mine, all mine,
What greater horror can man define...


D

Twas a fairytale marriage... till about three weeks ago.

It was a mistake... a stupid mistake. A drink too many coupled with the bittersweet realization of turning 40 was a lethal combination. He seemed like a nice guy and a little harmless flirtation never hurt anybody.. She had woken up with a bad headache and the "nice guy" at her side.

It had been three weeks since. Her conscience couldnt handle it anymore.

She turned to Chi... her husband, her friend, her soulmate.
The secret was let out.

Silence ensued.


Chi got out of bed and walked to the balcony in a daze. She followed.

The picturesque morning, juxtaposed against the storm brought forth in her marital life was too much for her to bear.
She shut her eyes and prayed.

After what seemed like eternity a reassuring hand came to rest upon her shoulder.

She had been forgiven.

That was the last thought that passed through her head before she hit the pavement


D

A million fought,
Two survived,
Then they sparred,
One died,
Left alone,
He committed suicide..

D

Twas a moonless night.... the rain too was relentless...

Chi hadnt passed any other car for over an hour.

She swam into view... a mosaic of green and red.

A woman covered in blood lay on the road. Her shawl , green when she bought it had been ripped to shreds. The car, an ancient 800 screeched to a stop, a haunting melody of Morrison emanating out of the radio adding to the melancholy.

One look at the travelbag lying beside her told Chi a lot, Classic Vuitton... she had come from money, the fact that it was still there meant that this was an accident.

Her car, what remained of it confirmed his conjecture. A spanking new Mercedes with its front end plowed into an old oak.

She had lost a lot of blood, immediate medical help was needed.

The lady as if on cue opened her eyes and mouthed a silent plea for help... seemed like the lord had heard her prayer.. an angel had arrived.

Chi bent beside her and helped her sit up. He unstrapped her pendant, pulled off her bracelet, grabbed the travel bag and jogged back to his car.

There she lay, all alone.. the silence broken only by the sob of a dying woman and the pitter patter of rain..


D

35 years had passed...
No one knew him.
No one cared.

With 6 billion sapiens scurrying about, the precious gift called life had become commonplace
He never chose to be born, he was pushed into it.

Chi walked back to the little alcove he called home. He ekked out an existence, trying to feed his wife and children, rarely succeeding.
The grand machinations of Beelzebub or god seemed to have no role for him to play.

Twas Christmas eve, the church looked beautiful...the daily toil left him with little to celebrate.
His family was waiting, today was salary day. A full stomach was guaranteed.
He entered nevertheless.
The dreary aura around him melted away. The choir was in full swing. He sensed joy all around.

Curiously enough, a sense of hope and belonging pervaded his soul. Life wasnt comfortable but it wasnt unjust either. Maybe there was a higher power looking out for them. Things would eventually turn for the better.

Renewed with a sense of purpose and belief he started back home.

Another 20 years passed....
Nothing changed.

Existence without essence.


D

First and foremost, I need someone to help explain the term 'analytics' to countless aunties and uncles!



Chi knew he was a marked man.
No one swindled Mr. Black... that was the first rule of this business.
Being 22 does funny things to you, an aura of omnipotence seems to pervade the very core of your being. Its only when you reach 30 do you realise the enormity of this dillusion.

Chi walked in, the usual swagger in place. Three pegs of grey goose and he couldnt remember his address. Two pegs later he couldnt remember his name.

Two men dressed in black suits were watching all this from the counter. The unusual protrusion around their shoulders confirmed their antecedents... Black's men.

Chi was all but dead and he didnt even know it.

This is probaby a good time for an intervention aka Deus Ex Machina... Never happened though..


They walked up to Chi, put two bullets through his chest.. compliments of Mr. Black.


D

He called her a billion times.
She never picked up.

He wrote her a million letters.
She burnt them all.

He sent her a thousand bouquets.
They withered away unnoticed.

He sang a hundred songs.. all with her in mind.
She bought earplugs.

He proposed a dozen times.
She set the dogs on him.

He smiled at another girl... just once
She brought hell on Earth..


Makes you wonder.


D

Chi was an honest cop.. the last of his kind.
Probably stemmed from his beliefs in heaven, and that god would do no wrong to those who had done no wrong.

He joined the force when he was 22, a young lad with strong ideals. However, his acute lack of people skills left him with little chance of climbing the ladder. Twenty years had passed and he was still a patrolman handing out speeding tickets.

One stormy October night roundabout 11pm, a couple of minutes before his shift ended a car sped past him with its headlights out. The speed gun display read 80 km/hr. Probably another bunch of dumb kids...

Chi started up his car, switched on the siren and sped after them. He caught up with the vehicle, a 1990 Civic a couple of miles down the road. He was wrong about the occupants, turned out to be an old lady and her poodle.
The canine, the last vestiges of life ebbing from him seemed to have suffered a paralysis attack. The woman, desperately trying to save the life of her last friend in the living world had set out to find a vetenarian in her almost defunct automobile.

Although rules stipulated so, Chi didnt have the heart to impound the vehicle. The old lady seemed inconsolable and denying her one last chance to save her dog would be cruel. He let her go after she promised to have the lights fixed after the dog had been attended to. He even gave her the number of his neighbour, a skilled vetenarian as his place was nearby.

At the end of another long shift Chi parked the patrolcar at headquaters and started back for home. The jarring ring of his cell phone cut through the silence around him. Twas his wife... sobbing. Their 14 year old daughter had been run over while crossing the road.. she never saw the speeding Civic with the broken headlights..

D

The ripper had struck again.
The newest victim was a five year old diabetic girl. A Blood stained blazer along with her ID card were found in the service lane behind the school. The toll had reached twenty.

The bodies of the victims were never found... the cops were clueless and the city was a state of panic.

Ria lived with her mother in an apartment on the 4th storey of Sunset Heights. Her father, a successful stockbroker had abandoned them when she was 18 never to be seen again. Rumour has it that he fled to South Africa fearing a possible indictment under the Harshad Mehta scam. However, he left his bank accounts and property untouched. Enough for a comfortable life in the material sense.

The grandfather clock in the living room struck 8. Time for dinner. Being a school teacher instilled within Ria a strong sense of discipline with regards to time. Never the one to arrive late.

The aroma was luverly. Twas biryani. In the eyes of Ria her mother, a sweet gentle soul touching 60 was probably the greatest cook in the world.

The sybarite within her took over and she attacked the food with glee. Halfway through her meal she bit into something mettallic. It was a dogtag with the words 'Tamanna, Type I diabetic' neatly printed upon it....

" Maa, you havent cleaned up the body properly! I told you, always take any ornaments off before you put it out to cook. "



D

She had been running... running for 35 years now.
Not from life, not from lies, not from lestat but from love.

The little grasshopper was tired.

The pinnacle of physics had been achieved, her academic orbit was at its apogee. Life was good.

The little coffee house across the road beckoned, a place where she had first met "him".
Twas chance, they were forced to share a table for the want of space. It felt right... he felt right... two hours passed by in a blink of an eye. He gave her his number, she promised shed call. That was 10 years ago. She was too scared and the scrap was soon lost to the ravages of time.

She entered letting the inviting aroma of arabica guide her. As her eyes soon grew accustomed to the dimly lit room her gaze wandered. There he stood...

This story couldve had a happy ending, all she had to do was call out to him.

She couldnt, and he left soon after. The little grasshopper was all alone....


D

Life had been a bitch to him. But he had made it.

There stood Chi.

Born to the mistress of a small zamindar with big aspirations, Chi was abandoned at the age of two. The father in an effort to cover up his past indiscretions had Chi's mum extirpated and him packed off to the nearest orphanage. 15 years of abuse would have wiped out the bravest of souls... Chi survived.. Infact Id daresay he thrived... Twas the magic of hope...
Chi nursed the dream of a better place, parsecs away from the hell he was living in. He worked towards it. The day belonged to the owner of the tea stall, but the night was devoted to the pursuit of knowledge. He laboured day in and day out to ekk out a living and support his little endavour. He was 9 when an accident at the stall cost him his right hand... so he learnt how to write with his left.
15 years of hard work finally paid off. A sterling result in the field of academics got him a full scholarship with a prestigious university. The last day of his first life melted into the first day of his last.
He waited at the station. The train approached slowly, lade with the dreams and aspirations of a boy who never gave up. He rushed towards it, never noticing the vendor approaching from the other direction. The impact threw him off the platform onto the rails...
He died.

D

She knew she needed him.
It was the height of the 95 construction boom in Seattle. Mounds of glass and steel attempting to outdo the gods coming up all around.
The alarm went off at 7:30am. Time to go to work. She tiptoed across the faux wood floor and stood under the shower.. it felt like a thousand needles.. the cold water always reminded her of him.
Amy first laid eyes upon him at the newly constructed penthouse of a prodigous associate. A professional...
Subtlety is an art lost upon many. Amy, however, was a loyal patron. A couple of discrete inquiries was all it took to get his number. She knew what to do.
Like the time before this and the time before that, it took a single phonecall. He was hers. 8:30pm, her flat....

He arrived on time, a rare quality in this capricious world. No pleasantries were exchanged and he went straight to it... Amy smiled to herself.. the anticipation of what was to follow built up.. it had been a while..
He finally emerged from the bathroom.. " The heating duct has been fixed, you should get hot water from the shower now.."
Finally...

D