An actual exchange on a social networking site

"World of Idiots": i haven't scrapped you in a while... it's only because orkut is a cumstain on the proverbial pants of humanity and needs to be wiped out before we're all wearing google t-shirts and swearing allegiance to the oogle. remember back in the old days when monkeys wore trousers and the giant pig-demons only demanded sacrifices once every six weeks. Sigh... i miss those days when you and i would gear up in our thongs and mud wrestle for the ultimate control of the universe. I also miss the mighty buffalo as they scampered across the plains leaving steaming rivers of cowpies in their wake. I remember when i ran into you in zurich as you were trying to subtly remove all traces of that transvestite's spittle from your zipper and then we teamed up to battle Archduke Ludvig Von SimonNGarfunkel the Vth before he used his ray of meat to turn the entire world's beer into that juice sausages are preserved in. Good times.... sniff... good times... give me a call. I need to meet with you in Singapore.

Me: I know it's been a while, but let me assure you that I am not avoiding your twin-orbs because of the fact that my underpants were found in your girlfriend's bedroom. Until the DNA tests are declared, everything is purely circumstantial. So, I shall most definitely rendezvous with you in Singapore. As per my contacts the chip we implanted in you using that anal probe shows your location as 1.20.54 N / 103.40.54 E in Singapore. That is where I shall meet you. As I type this I am on the Gulfstream G550 of the Dutchess of Stone Temple. The Pilots inform me that ETA at the above co-ordinates is 33.11" minutes. By the way, she says Hi!! She is reminiscing about that time when she and her cronies caught you paying for that sex change operation in the Bahamas using the Indian government bonds. I feel terrible, you had to become the pin-cushion for her mindless droves until you finally escaped. Too bad that limp never left you. Aah… Good times, good times. So what might be on the agenda in Singapore, old friend?

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"World of Idiots": A few months ago I received a communique from our mutual friend Sir Winston Huntingtoncarmichaeljerkoffonavich. It seems Sir Winston has run into a spot of trouble in Singapore regarding an old acquaintance of yours. That's right! I refer to none other than the crown prince of buggery : Felix Bastardton "Fatality" Jackson. It seems Felix is upto his old ways yet again. The last word I received from Sir Winston said he was pursuing his investigations regarding Felix in the number of bars in Singapore that cater to the um.. male persuasion specifically. It seems Felix Bastardton "Fatality" Jackson is attempting to round up an army of dainty men. Who knows what kind of terror he may unleash upon the world with such a force of fearsome, ferociously feminine fairies! It is up to you and me my old friend to stop him and rescue Sir Winston from Felix's deadly powers of tube suction. What say you? Can you tear yourself away from your busy schedule of skullbuggery and bestial fornication? I eagerly await your reply.

Me: If Sir Winston is in a spot of bother then the only honourable thing for us to do is for us to save the man. After all the pig's heart that beats within you was transplanted by none other than Sir Winston himself; when you got a heart attack thanks to that particularly ferocius squirrel you were trying to poke. I never saw a critter bite like that, and haven't to this day. Now regarding our crises at hand: I propose the following plan. Across the road from the mansion we set up an a chaste looking boutique which only sells baby pink shirts and g-strings & a has a beauty parlour. For this we should enlist the services of your old friend Archduke Humphry Buggery and his pet iguana. This should distract Felix's army of man fairy's for a significant enough time. Then you make your move. You shall simply walk inside waving an industrial strength tube of KY Jelly (it is the equavalent of a white flag on Felix's mansion.) Now, when I hear the sound of incessant pounding coming from the main chambers, I shall use the jetpack given to us by the Gorgamoks of Delta V and rescue Sir Winston. Your signal to get out is when we shut down the boutique on the opposing road - Listen closely for a loud, collective "Awww" from the man fairy's The real problems will begin once we have to leave Singapore - Felix has contacts in the government. Any ideas?

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"World of Idiots": It looks like we wont need to go to Singapore after all! I tracked Felx Bastardton "Fatality" Jackson to a remote island in the Carribean using the magical powers of google earth. I fear his going there leaves me only 1 conclusion. He's attempting to team up with your ex-fiancee Col. Horatio Dunderbangley Galaxyingots Jones, Mrs. I don't know what he wants with the Col. but it can't be good. I can understand your trepidation in dealing with the Col. after all he still has the ring you gave him. But I think the fate of the World should be given more importance than your illicit sexual escapades in Zanzibar. Once you arrive in the Caribbean I will give you further instructions that will tell you where to place the Ferret powered Rocket Launcher and we'll have to coordinate when to fire the Custard Cannon. I've been given special access to the inventory of my ex the fabulous supermodel Miss Penelope Sexyngton and she's let me have her remote controlled thong bomb which you will need to wear. See you there!

Me: We have a problem. My sources in the Interpol tell me that the thong bomb which is being sent to you by Miss Penelope , is in fact a highly fatal letter bomb. It seems Miss Penelope is still irate at you, because on when you swung around to kiss her on your first date, your man breast whipped around and lodged itself in her eye. She is now the proud owner of a Louie Vitton glass eye. But we still must save the world from Bastardson and his evil schemes to make everyone Fat, with his Collagen Cannon. To this effect I have called in a favour from the Chinese. The Premier, Hu Jin Tao is still pleased with your Courtesy Suck services rendered in the dense bushes behind their Parliament. We blast off from Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center in the Gansu Province and rendezvous with the Chinese death ray satellite in orbit currently 0 degrees over Lake Tangianika. We then incinerate Felix's compound of doom. Of course, Mr. Jin Tao expects a full week of your services. Remember to brush your teeth Agent.

ALL you need to know about the CAT exam

I recently had the pleasure of preparing for the CAT (Common Aptitude Test) exam, conducted by the IIM's. A few random observations, if you'll allow me.

You can tell a CAT aspirant out of any lineup. Their eyes are wider, pupils dialated and a with hint of madness which screams, "Look I know I'm going sanile - but bugger off!!". It like being high on dope, without all the trouble of scoring. Thats right - be forwarned. Your friends are going to become monsters.

If your friend calls you for a walk and mutters under his breath, "ok.. ok.. 2 m/s and 2m/s .. ok .. ok.. relative speed = 4, ok.. ok.. 100 m / 4 = 25sec" & exclaims... "Ya dude, if we continue to walk at this speed, then we should pass the pretty girl in exactly 25 seconds", THEN, that is your cue to RUN... Because your friend is infected with the CAT virus.

Thats right, ordinary people suddenly start to talk funny. (Something like Shoaib Akhtar, who sounds like a unholy cross between Tony Greig and Kumble.) They say annoying stuff like,

"Dude, voh kya keh rahi thi - full on esoteric laga. Voh
toh Raj ke taraf Partisan hai, and
Bhai, main to ek Egalitarian ladka
hun. Sabko equal chance. Pakka CAT ke tareh."

And then there is the other class. The backward classes of CAT (no, not the lucky ones). We are the ones who observe the commotion from a distance. The fly on the wall. The invigilator in the CAT exam hall. The sitter in between 5 IIT level questions on Logs.

I'm one of them. These days everyone has been asking me, "Dude, how is CAT prep going". I turn around and say, "Man, it feels like I'm on the wrong end of a Sine curve." That pretty much sums up my CAT saga. It's like seeing art-house French movie... without the subtitles.

But seriously, what do you expect unless you were born with a little extra lumps of brain. Do NOT dismiss it as impossible. Doesn't Hrithik Roshan have an extra thumb?? Scientists do not want to prove it, because then the secret of their success (and single status) would be out.

For example: Have you SEEN the data interpratation sets in this years AIMCAT series. (slow death, i call them).

"Irfan is an allrounder in cricket and is good at all three aspects
of the game. batting bowling and fielding. He has a weekly training schedule,
such that all three aspects as practiced for exactly 3 sessions, in the period
of seven days. Gap b/w any two consecutive sessions of any of the 3 aspects must not be more than 5 days. He rests on 1 day of the week, only on wednesday he practices all three aspects. During a period of 6 consecutive days he practiced feilding on first day, bowling on second day , bowling on third day, feilding on fourth day, bowling on the fifth day and may have died by the sixth day. the above is only a partial list of of some of the days during which he could have practiced multiple aspects on the same day."

Question: On what day did he rest?????

NO WONDER HE IS NOT IN THE TEAM!!!

Anyway, here is my theory on how AIMCATS get there crazy DI questions.

• They have captured and chained a mad russion scientist called Igor Ivanov who produces DI caselets like the above one. He gets his kicks. Its like sex for him.
• A bunch of reformed axe-murderers who used to be mathematicians in their hayday produce these by the dozen.
• There is the One, (like in the Matrix), who was hired by these guys. He can be identified by the Dr. Phd. MPhil. MCom. CA. CISA. FPM next to his name. He wears white shirts and red chequered ones, when he's feeling particularly adventerous. Also, he has an autographed copy of Newton's Principa Mathematica.

Why would anyone subject themselves to this? and yet, 2,50,000 people... !

What NOT to do while watching ' The Lord of the Rings'

It's important for you, the reader, to precisely understand what is the motivation for a post like this.

All around I see pretentious assholes who think that their parents doing the humpity-hump behind the Columbus ride in Appu Ghar was the best thing to happen since the Big Fuckin' Bang.

You know these guys... They have a new hairstyle every month, they wear t-shirts with slogans like "Via-Agra : Man's Greatest erection for a Woman" and the only thing they ever read is the "Whats Hot & Whats Not" section in stupid fashion magazines.

So this is the 1st in my series of Top-10's so that this particular lower race of homo sapeins with the IQ of a newly born frog; may look, well, just a wee bit brighter.

What NOT to do while in the theatre when watching "The Lord of the Rings"

1. Stand up halfway through the movie and yell loudly, "Wait...where the hell is Harry Potter?"
2. Block the entrance to the theater while screaming, "YOU.....SHALL NOT..... PASS!" - After the movie, say "Lucas could have done it better."
3. Point and laugh whenever someone dies.
4. Ask everyone around you if they think Gandalf went to Hogwarts.
5. Finish off every one of Elrond's lines with "Mis..ter Anderson."
6. When Aragorn is crowned king, stand up and at the top of your lungs sing, "And I did it.... MY way...!"
7. Talk like Gollum all through the movie. At the end, bite off someone's finger and fall down the stairs.
8. In TTT when the Ents decide to march to war, stand up and shout, "RUN FOREST, RUN!"
9. Every time someone kills an Orc, yell: "That's what I'm Tolkien about!"
10. When they go in the paths of the dead, wait for a tense moment and shout, "I see dead people!"

Another Top 10 next week... More of people you love to hate !

...of Supermarket Temples, Levitating saadhus and Blatant Disregard for Construction and Land Use Norms

The Akshardham temple : Either you are one of those who has seen it, or you are one of those who missed out - For it is a spectacle like none other.

or as I like to call it, "The Disneyland of Hinduism"


A quick primer on the temple.... Location: Nodia Mor, East Delhi.
- It is positively huge. The parking lot is probably as big as some of the islands in Indonesia.
- It bright, and always lit up, just like your friendly neighbourhood drug addict.

Yes, the Akshardham is unique. In fact, a bit too unique. Perhaps the levitating saadhus hadn't envisioned a few alternative uses for the temple, but here are a few to help them out. Jai Ho

1. The Lights.
When an kid sitting in Jaipur goes, "The temple is blinding my eyes", you know there are far too many lights.
I'm thinking maybe, we could use the place as Delhi's next international airport... Hey, its already got the lights and the parking space... All we need now are duty free booze shops and Nigerian drug peddlers.

2. The Water.
When your high school geography teacher takes you on a class trip to the Akshardham temple to show you, streams, creeks, brooks, rindles, rivulets, tides, torrents and fucking river deltas - then trust me, there is far TOO MUCH WATER, smack in the middle of a dry riverbed.

Maybe if the DJB (Delhi Jal Board) tapped this water, Delhi would finally get those alcohol distilleries its been hankering for all this time.....

3. Multiple square miles of parking.
Miles and miles of Parking? In Delhi? Are you sure? ... What are all those surrounding lights for? That's right, its a Cricket stadium.
(and God is right next door... the Indian team can't possibly lose again).... Can it ?

Can you add to the list? ... Comment.

--

Refrences:

• "Killing Delhi's lifeline", An article on encroachment on the Yamuna bed [link] [alternate]
• "The monstrous Akshardham temple, aggressively encroaches on public space by flouting all rules" [Hindu, Nov, 2003]
• "It is worth mentioning that the Master Plan has been violated far more systematically and ruthlessly by the rich and the powerful and the government itself than by anybody else. The entire Asiad 82 infrastructure, including stadia, hotels, flyovers etc. were built in violation of the Master Plan. Thousands of farmhouses encircling Delhi are again violations of the Plan. From Akshardham temple to the Metro Rail Depot to even the Secretariat of the Delhi Government- all these are violations" [link]
• And this rant would be incomplete without one by Carlin. "No God, transcript" [link]

and Whats the point again, of evicting traders, when even the Delhi Secretariat is a flaming example of illegal construction.

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Politics of the Terrace

Prima facie a terrace is just some, of the very few uninhabited square feet of a building.
It is also where cats take dead pigeons to eat, and hobo's frequently make their home for a couple of weeks before being discovered and discarded.

But, in a housing society a terrace is precious - Strange, considering the animal kingdom is at its wildest there.

Recently I found that the lock I had secured the terrace was broken, and a new one was put in its place. On further investigation I found that 2 ex-lawyers (at ages way beyond the scope of Viagra), had put their lock on it.

Lawyers !! Damnit !!
They just have to meddle with any status-quo they come across.

(one lawyer to the other)
L1: Hey.. Look, in the park, they look so happy. I dont think we'll get any business out of them.
L2: True, lets file a PIL for the closure of the premises, slap them with a quo warrano and go cetris paribus on their ass.

Similarly,
L1: Look, all the youngsters in the society are so happy. They go to the terrace - drink, smoke, and get women
L2: Women... whats that?
L1: You fool, lets put a stop to this.

The question is where do we go?
It's not fair. Everyone should have access to public places where they can drink, smoke and pass out.
(Fundamental Right: Part3, Article 19 : Freedom to assemble peacefully and without arms)
THATS RIGHT ..!! No one said anything about vodka.

It must be made clear that the terrace is a forum for free exchange of thougts and ideas.
Kid 1: Dude, I think the hot chicks, curtains are open.
Kid 2: Dude, Its a man and you are drunk.

Its also the place where many of us grow up.
Me: So you wouln't mind if I kis...
Her: (((SLAP))) !@#!#^!#

The point is that the terrace is a very important place for many of us. Its where I've gotten to know my best friends, and where the secrets of the universe have been unraveled.
It is where you can enjoy a binge, and also where you can say your goodbyes to a friend (going to America.. where else), over some Cointreau.

It is magical, and has an uncanny ability to make two people connect.

It should not be locked. There is no point, no gain, and no evidence in the last 10 years to show that it may be used for suicide.
(the last one was 11 years back)

An Ode to the Terrace: ..As easy as 1. 2. and 3.

So we got a hammer and smashed the fucking lock.

Uncle Chips Sells Out !

Uncle Chips Sells Out : Lays chips, has bought out Uncle Chips.
It is indeed a sad day for us all.

---

…That's one small step for PepsiCo and one big-ass retrograde step for Uncle Chips.

1:

I can imagine how the events must have played out.
Some Yankee sitting in PepsiCo's offices in Atlanta must have picked up the phone and said, "ssup homie dogg, gemme the number of Mr. Uncle. I just found out that my wife is blowing the neighbour and my therapist says I should let out mah feelin's by takin' over another dude's company".

2:
But where does that leave Us? Don't our sentiments matter?

Pamela Anderson couldn't see her feet for different reasons. But here, in India, for us, it was Uncle Chips. I take one look at my huge tummy and get this warm fuzzy feeling, knowing fully well that Uncle Chips is responsible for each for those 52423668557 Billion molecules of saturated fat. That's right !! An Indian chip.

Where is the Hindu right-wing when you need them the most?
Where are all the Indian products?
I mean what's next in line?

Today:
Doodh si safedi,
Nirma se aaye
Sabki pasand Nirmaaaaa…
Washing Powder Nirma .. Nirma !!!

Tomorrow, we got Britney Spears endorsing Nirma in push up's:
Romp in the hay – all night – all nii-iight
Nirma is Just plain Right !! – plain rii-ight
Cos there ain't nothin' better…
PPS. Join our war on terror

3:
Wherever I look now-a-days:Tide, Surf, Pepsodent, Harpic, Lux, Bata, Timex– All foreign brands.(though I don't feel bad about using Harpic – comes in handy cleaning shitpots).

But then, this is globalization. Unsuspecting foreigners trying to get their cable TV to work dial a local number and get connected, to an Indian sitting in Pune, halfway across the world.
And, and unsuspecting housewife buying the new Tide detergent, only to send a part of the profits halfway around the world.

Peace.

To Chandigarh & beyond.....

Chandigarh, 1:32 AM:
Question: How do you know when you’ve worked too much?
Answer: Remember that noise which used to come between programs during the Doordarshan days - With the static screen and lots of bright trippy colours… Remember now? … Well that ALL you hear.

So its 1 AM and you are walking back from the cab to whatever, hole in the wall, place the client has hooked you up - you acknowledge the guy at the reception and even make acquaintance with his pet rat. Collecting your keys, you walk to your room. It's finally time to sleep.

Zzzz...

Chandigarh, 1:37 AM, and now the kicker:
Some Punjabi munda is singing ‘woh lamhe’ in the lane outside.
I don’t know what the guy was thinking – but he sure as hell woke me up.
Maybe he has steamy dreams of Abhijeet Sawant and Indian Idol,
Or maybe it has something to do with liqueur vends being open till late in the night (aah…sweet bliss),

But either way something had to be done. So I grabbed a left over chicken leg from last night’s dinner and made my way to the window, determined to end the agony before he hits the chorus.

Now, regarding the chicken, it is important to realize that, in Punjab, a well made chicken tandoori is more common than a PCO.

But back to the agony. I was almost ready to launch the national symbol of Punjab (the chicken of course) at the offender when without warning the chorus arrived…. woh barsaate, woh bheegi bheegi raate, and at least 5 more incoherent voices joint in the Mongolian cluster fuck.

I sat down exasperated, cursing my luck, when it hit me. The Punjabi’s as a race are a fun loving group. They are equally at home dancing in a field of bright yellow sunflower, as they are eating chicken in a truck, while transporting sugarcane from Karnal to Bhatinda.











My point is that, instead of chucking chicken, I should embrace the culture and what the hell… maybe sing a few lines myself.
That, and there was not enough chicken to throw at all of them.

The Next Day:
Fresh from my revelation of last night I decided to take in more of the experience that was Chandigarh and the wonderful people who were our hosts. Standing in front of the spotless glass door I adjusted my tie, took a deep breath and walked in.

As part of my resolve to be less antisocial and more inquiring about everyone here, I ask the receptionist her name. Harpreet she replied.
Much later on, the office boy decided to grace us with his presence, and some tea and biscuits. I was still in a social mood, and asked him his name. Harpreet he replied.

Wonderful I thought to myself… obviously they haven’t put much thought into naming their offspring.

All the better for me – remembering names isn’t going to be an issue anymore. I mean where else can you yell ‘Happy’ in a canteen and half the people there respond with a haanji.

I can picture it now:
This year’s Bestseller – ‘Names for your Punjabi Baby’.

An 80 page book with all they information you need...
Page 1 has the suggestions: Harpreet, Manpreet, Aparpreet, Gurpreet, Navjot and Happy.



Page 2 to 69 is for more important things like Chicken recipes.
And, Page 70 is an impassioned plea to join the movement for the separate state of Khalistan…

And finally:
Yup, complex creatures they may be, but fantastic hosts they are. This was the first audit where we had a ford Icon at our disposal, and the manager of the Supply Chain group, was as much a Process head on weekdays, as he was a travel agent on weekends as he planned out stuff for us to do.

Now, if only I could remember his name… was it Harpreet… or Manpreet.
Eh what the hell… or as the Punjabi’s would say, “Koi Gal Nahin”.

Fwd: Fwd: Por Favor, This is not a forward

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If this is corporate life, then i want out !

Either that, or my own personal secretary, dressed in Red, with fishnet stockings, with a whiff of Elizabeth Arden of course, and direct credit of my tax free salary to my Swiss back account. But since that's not happening.....

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Ok. I'm in Hyderabad now.
The flight was interesting. First time I've been in an ATR.
An ATR is a brand of aircraft made thru a French-Italian combine. It's supposed to safe and everything.... but... it's got propellers!!

Now in this age of Airbus's A370'sand 340s, flying in a aircraft with propellers gives you the jimmy's. Especially when you fly through clouds. It's a bit like that ride in Appu Ghar, which no one ever dared to go on.
Though, it must be mentioned that the Air Deccan air hostess was ... pretty !! (surprise surprise) Weatherwise, not a very nice change from Bangalore. It's a good 5 degree Celsius higher !!!

But, the place where I'm staying has a lot of greenery. It's Chandrababu Naidu's dream, vision, and baby. Affectionately called: Hi Tech City (some imagination huh !!)

I realize that, while you can build buildings called cyber towers, cyber gateway & cyber center (nope... AP'ites dont have much imagination), all encompassed in glass - You cannot stop people from taking their pets out for a walk on the road, Or from taking a piss at the side of the road or simply having a bath at the end of a long day.... also at the side of the road. It's simple not done.














And of course, when I say pets I mean Cattle.
It all adds up to the wonderful experience, that is Andhra Pradesh - All we need now, to complete the picture, are a few gun wielding Naxals.

This place has a lot of techies from all parts of India. And as you must be knowing, where you find techies, you will find an over abundance of 2 things -
1) Check Shirts
2) Men's Hostels.

Some of the more scary names I've seen today are:
1) Balaji Working Mens Hostel (ok... i have a problem with the phrase 'working mens')
2) Passion Men's Hostel (perhaps it was meant to be Mens Passion Hostel... either way, Stay AWAY)
3) Ricky's Rooms ( w t f ?? )














Thankfully, I'm staying in a company guesthouse.
Since I arrived in Hyderabad today, I have a lot of free time. You must have realised that I don’t have much to do today :-) Tomorrow is when I have to start slogging again.

I'm seriously overworked. (but it's been fun) & Where is the National human rights commission when you need them...

Thankfully Hyderabad in only 15 days. I can’t wait to get back to home.
Cheers
-CC