Sibal Trouble

Now, listen here punk.. Shit just got real.

What’s wrong with you, Mr. Sibal? Here I was, enjoying my indifference to all the social and political issues that should have evoked a sense of duty to voice my opinion through this blog, and you come along and ruin it all. More than a year long hiatus between anything that tickled my ‘righteous’ bone. Mind you Sibal, this has been a rather eventful year, what with the CWG fiasco, myriad of scams (Feel free to take your pick..how about the one equivalent to the GDP of the Philippines..Not to your fancy? Oh well, there’s lots more to pick from), Arab Renaissance and, Anna’s reincarnation as the new Gandhi. Well, a more colourful version of Gandhi, if you ask me. Ideals like publicly flogging alcoholics just gives him an extra edge over the Mahatma, no? However, all it took was your imbecility to force me to take the trouble of offering my views. I could easily have spent this time browsing internet ‘meme’ websites with funny pictures of cats in costumes, and Chuck Norris facts, auto correct mistakes and badly drawn sexist comic strips in which women get sandwiches.

Cats in costumes, mother fu**er...that’s what I gave up for this..So, listen real good..

The problem, as I see it, Sibal, is your complete and utter ignorance of how the Internet works, and more importantly, what it stands for. The Internet isn’t a form of social media in the same way like TV or newspaper. It’s a platform, a gathering place for the common man and, anyone with a computer is invited. Unlike those two media, everyone’s opinion is welcome. You see, as much as you would like to deny it, we DO have opinions (and unlike our PM, we don’t have some ‘Madam’ telling us what they are). Lots, in fact. Moreover, the way your government is running things, in all honesty, you wouldn’t like most of them. See, our problem is that we grew up in the Internet age. Growing up, we were shameless enough to think that we had the right express our opinions. You can imagine our amazement when we found that this right was drafted into this thing everyone calls the ‘Constitution’. Now, we had the power to transmit our views to sympathetic ears (eyes, if you want to be a stickler for accurate analogies) over the Internet. All around the world, blogs and social networking sites allowed people with like-minded beliefs to exchange their ideas. The people got a Voice. Dissent, like misery, loves company and Internet helped seek it out. It gave the people a sense of power. You would think that in a democratic country the ballot would bestow such a power.

Sibu, dissent cannot always be in a form that nurses your ego and takes care of your sensibilities. Sometimes it involves poorly photoshopped pictures of the Prime Minister and Manmohan Singh (See what I did here..). Harvinder Singh taught us a completely novel mode of expressing dissent. Would you rather have us do that? You are under the fallacy that politiocos are above ridicule. You must understand that they are the only people worth ridiculing. It’s not our fault that an annoying less-than-honourable Italian-Indian woman, and her servile comrade are easy targets?

Stop acting like an obese teenage girl who is being bullied online and get a sense of fu**ing humour.

Firstly, stop patronizing us internet users. We know what is out there. The Internet has it’s own set of laws and law- enforcers. Objectionable content is often removed once enough users have rated it to be so, on many social networking sites (just like a democracy, see Sibu?). Authenticity of content has to be verified on websites like Wikipedia. Secondly, stop trying to add a religious angle to the whole issue. That’s not what this is about, so stop pretending like it is. Is it mere coincidence that you want to screen content from social networking sites, when such sites fueled the Lokpal uprising? Thirdly, Sibu, there’s a 100 million Internet users in India. These aren’t the kind of numbers you want to piss off.

So, Sibu, find something else worthwhile to do. I would imagine the Lokpal Bill drafting (or lack of it thereof) would take up enough of your time.

P.S. - I added the photo in the start just to piss you off, Sibu!

The White LIAR.

I suppose it took a over-hyped book to get me all riled up,and shook me outta the self-imposed hibernation.A year later,I begin with a new tirade.A 'Hate Post' would be a good way to liven things up!Besides,nothing gets more publicity than a good ol' fashioned ranting.Good to be back....

During a trip to the library,a book with glossy white cover,and comical font on the face proclaiming "The White Tiger,Aravind Adiga".Aaahhhh,the book that won the Booker Prize.It must definitely be a good read.....sadly it wasn't.Far from it.Page after page it just got a little bit worse.The consistency in its decline as a book is the only commendable aspect.And I am being polite here.

I feel I am one of the lucky ones who picked this up at a library.It pains me that it won a prize.As for the price,Rs.395 is totally unjustified.Pick up this book at a roadside,only if you are cataloguing different ways of losing precious time you cannot get back.

Now,readers,you all know I am open minded person and I enjoy a good roast.I'm not too sensitive about opinions on India,especially when presented in a humorous way.But A.Adiga just can't get it right.

He sets out,i believe,to write a satirical expose of the Indian Culture.Instead the result is a banal and overly cliched view of the Indian way.The end result is a book whose insight into what it means to be a Indian is as authentic as Pamela Anderson's endowments...nice to look at,but obviously fake.Journalist Andrew Holgate says "......not a swiff of saffron or swish of saree anywhere".I say "Those are the only two cliches he has missed!!"(I chose to exclude the profanities,as this blog caters to children too,u dumba**{except for that one} ).

I wonder how the book won the Man Booker prize,especially since his predecessors include Salman Rushdie,Arundhati Roy,Kiran Desai,V.S Naipaul.Did you use the oh-so-Indian virtue of bribing some official in the deciding committee??..

I did some extensive research(read wikipedia,Ok so not a very extensive..).He lived in Madras till he was 16 yrs old.Moved to Australia due to his father's posting there.My theory is the children there must have made fun of him,probably mocked his accent.And poor lil Adiga blamed India,and chose to distance himself from all that is Indian.He had to fit in,but with his colour it would have been a little hard.So,he sets off to write about India,from what is,obviously, a foreigner's point of view.At the same time trying(but failing) not to offend the Indian audience(probably because he knew Indian demographic shows the population laps up Indian/Indian origin authors and thus more $$$ for him)

Mr.Adiga,you say the writings of authors like Dickens,helped England and France become better societies.Ummm are you really comparing your attempt with Dickens??

"At a time when India is going through great changes and, with China, is likely to inherit the world from the West, it is important that writers like me try to highlight the brutal injustices of society (Indian). That's what I'm trying to do -- it is not an attack on the country, it's about the greater process of self-examination."Adiga says.

I doubt this process of self-examination you talk about is acheived through exaggerating all the perceptions the foreigners have of India and presenting them to that audience.

Mr. Adiga, I know you topped your SSLC examination.You also have a degree from Columbia State University.Now,I admit i am a layman,when compared to you.I cannot compete with your vocabulary,and most of my writings are salvaged by the ever faithful(sometimes infuriating) SPELLCHECK.But,Mr. Adiga,I love reading.I love how my mind gets amazed when something new is revealed to it.As a Indian,I know you couldn't paint a completely rosy picture of India.I know the picture would be incomplete without a mention of the corruption and the pollution.And i know sarcasm would be a great way to package your opinion.But your take on this doesn't come off as self deprecating but rather a snobbish overview of the country.Layman I may be,but it is US laymen that are buying your books, from the roadside seller or the library.We may not be discussing your book at book clubs or over a bottle of wine...but we ARE reading it.Not just because your book won some prize,but because we are proud when a Indian gets international acclaim.And we hoped that you had written a honest rendition of what it means to be Indian.Instead you succeed in taking a dig at India,writing a novel which can only appeal to foreigners,whose knowledge of India consists of spices,elephants and the Indian Rope trick performing sadhus.

When The Archer Fired From His Quiver...

On May 20th,puffy eyed and with a not so discreet scratch of my bum i picked up the newspaper.Hunching over the loo i started reading the dailies with a mild interest (the rest of the world doesn't quite command my attention these days...Amazing how self obsessed you become when left to your own devices).Racing through the pages ,catching headlines mostly I enlightened myself .Accident at..., ....murdered brutally,Scientists prove that... ,IPL's Latest... ,.Feeling better of having renewed my connection with the world?! and having lost it with yesterday's Vegetable Shaslik sizzler i set about completing the ritual.That's when a small Ad on the last page proclaimed Deutsche Bank(just as achingly hard to spell as it is to pronounce) was organizing a Jefferey Archer Book Signing Tour,his first stop being Mumbai .So i set off to a bookstore in Andheri,well in advance.I reached at 6,being told he was to come at 7.Now readers, this to me is equivalent to the euphoria that would accompany a rock fan to a Iron Maiden concert(which i did not make it to... ).At the venue(Infinity Mall) i was greeted with the sight of a bunch of impassive window shoppers and some seriously unimaginative couples( A mall..?!).It seemed the Iron Maiden analogy ended there.
In the bookstore however,the earlier sight not withstanding , there was a cozy arrangement of chairs,and a dimunitive stage.For some reason Deutsche(bloody @$%%) Bank had chosen to underplay the whole event.I bought a copy of " Prisoner of Birth"..his latest creation.The store had a policy stating only the books bought at the venue will be signed.At 7,sharp he arrived in the store,looking dapper in a striped shirt and trousers.He took to the stage immediately,and vowed that he would not leave until everyone's book was signed.Needless to say the the people on the floor were ..umm...floored.The following are excerpts from his conversation,my views on them(if any).
He divided his time to talk to writing in general,his most recent book and questions.I am assuming only well read and informed reader frequent my blog(if any..coz i sure ain't!!), must have read the interview in the paper.I will try to cover what the press missed,or anything I found interesting.

"Most people in in an audience like this would like to be a writer"....When a few members of zealous audience raised their hands he added "And i didn't even ask!"

To people that thought writing was a easy job,he revealed his 10hr each day writing schedule.Also adding that after 50 days of following this strenuous schedule he is done with only the 1st draft.Considering that 'Prisoner of Birth took 17 drafts,I should be looking for alternative careers.
(Genetic Engineering..cross,Writing...double cross...Take over world with a army of zombies...To do )
During the speech,he was disturbed by he music playing in the store(that slow lulling flute music that accompanies you in the elevators...)Twice his plea went unheard to which he joked"I dunno why it isn't taken care off,they have only a thousand people to help them ! "
He admitted he wasn't a writer but a story teller(a quite good one at that),and that the joy he received on walking into a room filled with people who love your work,made him resolute that he will write till he died.
He talked of a rather interesting interlude with a journalist who was trying to extract some pearls of wisdom to aid his own literary pursuit,when Archer got wind of his intentions he confronted him sayin"Man I see what you are trying to do,..Do you really believe you can write stories like me and sell 135 million copies worldwide??" To which he flatly replied "Hell no,...I am going to write a Nobel prize winning book which damned well lot easier!!"
There were some interesting questions.Most of them were silly,making him repeat himself.Some replies i write below
1)When asked if he experiences the same intensity when he reads his own books he said he didn't generally read his own books,but after 25yrs he was tempted to read "Kane and Abel" to see what all fuss was about he added.
2)Do you write to get your book made into a movie?? "Clearly not,I have written 14 books and not one of them has been made into a movie even though all of them are stories."
3)Honesty in writing(favorite part for me)
"Write what you like to write.Jane Austen wrote five of the greatest novels ever,the first one was about a mother trying to get rid of three daughter,the second about a mother trying to get rid of three daughters ,third was about a mother trying to get rid of two daughters and the fourth of a daughter trying to find a husband.Yet she made you turn the page on each one."
4)Publishers
"I got rejected by 17 publishers,before the 18th published 'Not a penny more, Not a penny less'.That is where i beat J.K Rowling who got published by the 16th publisher."
5)Indian Writers
"This country has 5 or 6 of the greatest writers.My favorite writer is Vikram Seth,i loved the Suitable Boy.That man can write as well as tell a story.In Britain we call a person like him a 'damn annoyable chap'.He can write poetry,paint,play the violin...I am amazed he doesn't open the batting for India!"
There was also a foolish lady who thought she could discuss the plot in he company of people who hadn't read the book.AND was haughty about it when boo-ed by the audience!

6)Traffic
He wasn't the charming bloke all throughout the night.He like most foreigners had lots to say about the traffic,having taken 2 hours to go 15 kms.
7)Cricket
He also made clear he detested the 20-20 format of the game.According to him a real match was between India and England at Lord's with India 23/7...(booing in good humour begins)..Dravid..naught.... Tendulkar....naught(good humour dissipates..).

And finally he ended,saying that of all the countries,he hasn't yet experienced such warmth,and friendship for a author.India,with its masses of story tellers believed that authors were on a higher pedestal than film stars.

I AM LEGENDarily bored...The story of a boy stranded....in his own house..

Before I get started,I just want to get something out of the way,...'Home Alone was too obvious a title'.
As you must be suspecting,I am now in charge of the household.Me mum and Grandma have taken a well deserved sabbatical from their full time jobs here in India.Taking care of me isn't a easy task really,lets just say you can call me a 20 year old infant,except for the fact that I can wipe my own behind.So there they went, catching the earliest flight out of Mumbai ,leaving behind lil ol' me to fend for myself.
It didn't take long for me realize that my dreams of converting my crib into PaRTy CentRaL and a Lounge Pad were not going to manifest into reality.That was when the bell rang at 6 in the morning,...Milk,then again at 7 30....Newspaper.....,9...Dhobi....,10...The Guy Who Washes My Car(to ask for the key).....10 30,The Guy Who Washes My Car(to dutifully return the key).This is after i have slept at 4.After which I wait for the Garbage Man to show up.Doesn't.Its like they conspired against me....
I knew sleep was out of the question at this point,so with blood-shot eyes and murder on my mind I proceeded to making tea.The challenges had only begun...God Damned Tea Bags!!!!Tea flavoured water...umm my favourite.Not to be outdone,I set out to refresh myself with a bath.Cool running water,caressing,cleansing my skin.'Hey maybe this day won't turn out so bad' I say while the loofah de-toxed my armpits....BRRRRNNNGGGGG 'GODDAMN IT!!'.Garbage Man decides to show.Half naked and dripping wet i give him him the goods.I can almost see the smirk that was to form on his after the door would shut.Aromatic foam still oozing out of my armpits on the floor,tracing a path from the bathroom to the door.Great,jusssstt great.
11:45 am Tiffin delivered.Screw breakfast, I'll just move to lunch,I say, my incorrigible laziness after 20 yrs still seems to amaze me.Who needs flippin dishes,I'll eat right out the box.Notice how my vocabulary changed after my mum left.Anyway it turns out i needed flippin dishes otherwise flippin ants find themselves in flippin soft areas of my anatomy.Some things in life you just learn the hard way,or with resulting inflammation...Lets just leave it at that.
The night posed challenges of its own.Now,I am as brave as they come,but its a big house and its OK be a little paranoid(not scared...PARANOID).Besides, I never really got over the trauma after watching "Paapi Gudiya".A crazed doll with a thirst for blood...that is just wrong,...wrong i tell you...!!! I also keep a knife set beside my bed.Somehow in all the nightly robber encounters I come to expect,the robbers are always Ninjas,and I always oust them with my superior Kung-Fu skills...(I did Taekwando till the..ummmmm white belt,but i learned a lot!!).
Anyways I am pleased to tell you that i have been slugging it out for 14 days now,and i have survived without too much deterioration of my mental health(Lets just say there is more than ONE voice in my head to cope with the loneliness).So,goodbye from me and all of us....till the next post.....

Waever happened to AQUA?? Not that i listened to them..

Back in the 'good ol' 90's there was revolutionary Bubblegum Pop band,whose music was almost as gay as Elton John in a pink tutu.But back then were kids,homosexuality was not clearly defined,and I recall that many my peers (obviously not me...)had bought cassettes(remember those??)..and found it satisfying belting out ' Barbie girl' in public.I remember chuckling in the back of the class after being told that it had lyrics like 'You can undress me anywhere...".Now their songs like 'Happy boys and Happy Girls' have a whole new meaning.Then suddenly as they appeared,they were gone.And so was their popularity.Rumors, accounting for their disappearance spread.Versions that i heard,
1)Lead vocalist shot herself
2)Lead vocalist O.D ed on drugs
3)Lead vocalist O.D ed and then shot herself...
4)Lead vocalist was a lesbian(most recent,does not explain why the band would break up though..)

As titillating as these theories sound,they are false.Aqua reunited in 2007,and are currently recording their 3rd album(Thank you wikipedia....)So all you fans(all 3 of you), get ready Aqua is going to splash on the music scene soon(Geddit...aqua....water...splash...o neva mind)

Truman inspires...

My life is a TV show...and you are watching it right NOW....

I lay sprawled on the bed,the camera pans in to my puffy face,the creases of the pillow cover etched into my face.A yawn,a stretch,a discreet scratch at the crotch...'They'll probably edit that out later' I tell myself.Zoom Out.Change of scene.I am in my shorts,brushing wearily,I bend over the basin to spit...'This is not a very good TV show,I'd probably be spitting blood,to find out i have lung cancer,followed by my death,and possible resurrection.'.Sarcasm...sells,but so does criticism.Nope,no blood just spit foam and a million spirochetes descending down the drain to their doom.I glance at the clock,a frown, then a resolute look,directly to the camera.Oooo,a plot develops??Don't get your hopes up.This is not a very good TV show.This is the point where a intro theme would be playing,flashing clips from previous episodes ...Sorry.
I am now running,one hand clutching my messenger bag,the other outstretched,trying to clasp the small bar in the entrance of the bus,...Will I,Won't I?This is about as exciting as it is going to get.Don't reach for the remote though...you got his far didn't you??I know,reruns of Full House seems like a interesting prospect right about now.In this show there isn't always a happy ending,and issues are slightly more complicated than DJ getting a zit,I do not always get a moral upliftment at the end.Cheesy,is something this show won't get.Continuing,...I do.Get in the bus that is.The conductor asks for the change,I don't have any,My face turns grim and i eye the conductor. "Sorry,सुट्टे नाहीत" I reply flashing the Rs. 100 note.Ball in your court,man.Expecting jump to Bullet Time(time slowing down,like in the matrix remember??),possible action sequence??He looks like the confrontational type..but just shrugs indicates he will give me the change when he gets it.The writers need to be paid a bit more.* Commercial Break* I see,you are back.There is absolutely nothing on the other channels,is there??Scene evolves into a irate professor expecting an answer from moi.A bead of sweat trickles down the forehead,nervous cracking of the fingers,maybe a rendition of my thoughts added during sound editing..A prompt from below,and a prompt answer....YEAH...triumph for our protagonist... Roller-Coaster of emotions,eh?Our hero(me??!!) is then seen relating the day's victory to his peers,all seems well..Suddenly his cellphone rings(tan ta dhaaaannnnnnn),with hesitation the call is received and camera fades out.......

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR THE CONCLUSION OF THE THIS WEEKS RIVETING SHOW

My life is a TV show,and I am the only audience...The TRP's are plunging.....

Onomatopoeiasis...

As the loyal readers of the blog(please correspond if u do exist) would know this blog picks at issues that only few dare to explore,...possibly because they have almost no relevance in peoples daily lives,and discussing them is like arguing philosophy with Rakhi Sawant...pointless,but a whole lotta fun.Unlike most blogs my blog is hardly ever satirical,there is no embedded meaning in my posts,and honestly no real content,...i mean i have written four lines already and the title still doesn't make sense.That would require you to proceed to the next paragraph.I just capture your attention, don't I?
Onomatopoeiasis...besides being a real pain for people with Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia [fear of long words(irony,also a part of speech)],it is a affliction that has not been addressed by the medical community,which considers this disease a figment of a weary blogger's imagination,and thus no comment was offered by any medical personnel except "Who let you in the hospital...GET OFF THE PATIENTS OXYGEN TUBE @#$%!!!".Well,after such inconclusive statements from them,I had to resort to conducting my own clinical trials.Budget constraints(Thanks a lot ,Mum) compelling me use only one test subject..umm....me.Through the carefully documented data,I have prepared a REALLY COMPREHENSIVE REPORT.

Onomatopoeiasis
by Salil Redkar N.S.E(not sufficiently educated)


Definition-A affliction,normally observed in over zealous patients who find it necessary to litter their conversation with word formed by sounds they make.

Observations-over a period of 30 min

The patient,due to lack of any actual interesting content in the conversation constantly used the aid of onmatopoeiaic words,diverting attention.The use of these words extended the story, being told him ,to such a extent he did not require to come to the point at all.He also thinks 'frrrrraaarrrppppp' is a actual word used to describe a fart.Notice how using onomatopoeia increases the crude humour quotient of a conversation.Patient often supplements this with elaborate hand guestures and exaggerated facial expressions.Regular therapy required ,not necessarily for onamatopoeiasis....No known cure,patient's conversations are inherently uninteresting.

END OF REALLY COMPREHENSIVE REPORT...