Cyclic Reference - Much Ado About Nothing

The pullup ring that hangs down from the jackfruit tree still exists,though the rope is frayed,

The koel still sings atop the neem tree, all she needs to say is already said.

The drumsticks in season still flowers,

And the pomegranate falls in that well of ours.

Sparrows sometimes still fall in the well, no one drops a bucket to pull them out,

Poor souls thrash and gulp and drown, can't for help even shout.

Guava Rots and falls amidst thunder showers,

And chickens lay egg in that backyard of ours!

Friends walk past, don't even glance for fear,

They just might see some ghosts of those past years,

They bow their heads and walk past those flowers,

That still bud, in those rose bushes of ours.

Must move on, time can't stay...

Memories fade and hair turns gray.

Must learn to live life by the hour,

And fake it in our Ivory Towers!

एक सड़क की कहानी

निकले थे इक राह में हम
ये सोच कर सामने मंजिल है
कुछ और चले तो पता चला
के रास्ता ही मंजिल है।

कुछ दूर तक अँधेरा है
कुछ और राह ये बोझिल है
बढे चलो तुम बढे चलो
आगे सड़क ये झिलमिल है।

रुको नहीं, मत ये सोचो
हमे यहाँ क्या हासिल है
चले चलो, तुम चले चलो
यहाँ कदम कदम एक मंजिल है।

अगर मिले कहीं दोराहे,
कोई एक राह पकड़ लेना
इस राह भी कोई मंजिल है
उस राह भी कोई मंजिल है।

अगर लगे एकाकी मन
और समझ न आये क्या करें
कुछ दोस्त तुम बना लेना
दोस्त यहाँ बड़े अच्छे है, दोस्त यहाँ दरियादिल हैं।

Musings of a Bookworm

आज भी जब मिलते हैं पुराने दोस्तों से
बहुतों से नहीं मिलते, न बहुत बार मिलते हैं
कहते हैं सब वही पुरानी बात हमसे
"क्या आज भी तुम रहते हो किताबों में आँखें गोते"
और हम कहतें हैं उनसे, अपने ही अन्दाज ये बयां में
वक्त के बीतने में, गुजरने में लम्हे
वक्त के बिखरने में, बिगढ़ने में लम्हे
हमेशा, हर जगह, एक से कहाँ होते?

मेज़ पर रखी उस पुरानी किताब के पन्ने
कभी खामोश होते हैं, कभी गर्म हवा में फरफराते हैं
कहते हैं हैं कभी दबी दबी जुबां से हमसे
आजकल क्यूँ नहीं अपनी छाती से हमे लगा के सोते
क्यूँ तुम लैपटॉप के पन्ने में अपनी
तक़दीर खोजते हुए, कभी टटोलते हुए
ज़िन्दगी कों माय दोकुमेंट्स के फोल्डर में फाइल करके
हुए जा रहे हो बस होते होते!

छह महीने से बुकशेल्फ मे एन्चंत्रेस ऑफ़ फ्लोरेंस
नयी नवेली दुल्हन सी बेचैन है अपने सुहागरात के लिए
कभी कुछ भी तो नहीं कहती, फिर भी
याद करते हैं उसे हम सोते सोते
कुछ किताबें ऐसी भी हैं जिनको पढ़ा है कुछ बाहर से
जिनके बारे मे न तो अनजान हैं न कुछ जानते हैं
न बेखबर है जिनसे, न पहचानते हैं
जो बस रह गयी बंद, शुरू होते होते !

कुछ किताबें तो ऐसी भी हैं, मन के किसी कोने मे बंद
जो लिखी ही नहीं, बस रह गयीं एक ख्याल बन कर,
इनके भी फसल लगाने के, काटने के लिए
कुछ नन्हे नन्हे से बीज होते, बीज होते, बीज होते!

Alternate Use of A Washing Machine. #1

Why would anyone want to write about an alternate use of a Washing Machine, of all things. What good is it anyways.Vibrates, giving your clothes multiple orgasms. Shakes like those deranged people on "Dance Timbuktoo Dance" shows on TV. No good. I tell you. Believe me. Period.

I heard they make Lassi in Washing Machines in Punjab. Whoever made those Surd Jokes should be tried for criminal conspiracy to deny them the patent for being the most inventive of souls. I wonder what they use in place of Pressure cooker? Steam Engines,maybe. Now we know why railways had to electrocute, oops, sorry, pardon me, electrify themselves.

Anyway, I always knew that Husbands were meant to blend in with the Furniture, but never realised, just how seriously it would be taken in my own house till I saw the washing machine being used to dye all my undies to match the color of the latest curtain/bedsheet, etc. Now, if I encicle my arms around a curtain, I look like one of those monkeys that they sell in home accesory stores!

Washing Machines, are no good. Absolutely no good. Well and Truly, no good. I do wish, however, that a certain US President owned one of these, instead of believing "Daag Achche Hain!" It's better to own a Peach Underwear, rather than being impeached!

The Story of My Experiments with Sex, Lies and Video Tapes Part III: College and Beyond!

I am back!

I know, 5 months is a long time to spend thinking about writing a new post! But then again, if only the world had a few more thinkers and a little less doers, we would have been a better place.

On the one hand, there is the biggest doer (do gooder?) there could be. Uncle Sam! Compulsively obsessed with setting things right! Half the worlds mess has been created by our dear Uncle. Be it Afganistan or Iraq, or Pakistan, or the Gaza strip, our dear uncle has a footprint everywhere a.ka. Godzilla! It has done absolutely no one any good, transforming the World into arguably two completly muddled Bipoles of the "Wronged and the Wrongdoer" who keep exchanging places.

On the other hand there is this group of thinkers, the United Nations, whose perceived usefulness in life is to undo the done, unravel the ravelled, and basically sit around and think!

We are having earth summits to cool the earth which is suffering from the physical manifestations of Global Warming. Another example of Man's obsession with the Physical! Size does not matter dude! We are anyway hell bent on killing each other off on socio-political grounds, and at the rate we are going, Global warming is going to find only leftovers!

But, this isn't about any of that! This is about the Story of my Experiments with Sex, Lies and Video Tapes! College and beyond!

Since most of you have been wondering, where the fuck (pun completely intentional) is the sex in this 4 post story. So here goes my tribute to Choubey!

Who?

Choubey, was a friend of mine in the 5th standard, there were Rahul and Anup and Kautuk and Choubey!

Rahul, Anup and Kautuk remain the closest of friends till date. Choubey, I Believe, was God's idea of injecting a banal version of Cupid into our lives.

Well, Choubey was the one, in the 5th standard, who let it be known, that before Salman Rushdie or Amitava Ghosh or Arundhati Roy etc, Indian writing in English was not so famous precisely because we were too busy reading Indian Writing in Hindi beneath the covers. MastRam, did not win any Bookers, but "they", since it was most definitely not a Singular, but a plural entity which initiated us into "Bhabhi ka pyar" were too busy making Men out of Boys to really care!

Choubey vanished from the scene long before he could leave a lasting impression on us. Instead of being the Viagra of our initiation into the virtues of sex, he became the quintessential premmature ejaculation!

So we remained, as our parents would sigh in relief, mostly untainted, arguably pure, from the vice called Sex, till a little after we entered college.

Who is we, you must be wondering. It's me and my little John Abraham I am talking about!

College left us with no choice, either you knew about the topic, or you did not!

Well, well, well by the time I entered college, we were no more just a small group of friends but a motley gang of adolescents hell bent on breaking all the rules.

So yes, we smuggled VCRs-yes those large monsters carried around in VIP Suitcases, renting at 60 bucks a day, each tape additionally costing another 20 bucks - under the noses of our parents and learnt about Big Boobs Betty's Quest for Long Dong Silver!

And yes, my brothers stash of Porn was, once upon a time, discovered and very publicly burnt under the able supervision of Ma, but not before he had had an opportunity to hide some of the more graphic ones!

Hey! Sweet Victory of Good over Evil!

But for the rest of the month, he was the butt of all jokes in the circuit.

The advantage of having a elder brother is that you don't have to worry about creating from scratch, your own stash of porn. You can always take a loan! Sometimes by deceit, if necessary.

To be continued...

The Story of My Experiments with Sex, Lies and Video Tapes! PART II

PART II: How I Sleepwalked through School

My schooling started long before I started school. My mother used to teach me alphabets while she cooked food - on anything from an old fashioned electric heater (of the coiled variety) to a Coal fired one - this was the era of License Raj and a "Q" for everything including a Gas Connection.

We got our Gas connection much later, perhaps in 1984 (That makes it the same age as my formal education), that too because a friend of my father's was kind enough to pass on his connection to us - to this day we use the same one back home! It was my first lesson in friendships and relationships.

I joined school is a rather odd fashion. Due to my mother's ability to school me real well, I scored great marks in my Entrance Test. Unfortunately, no one told my parents that I needed to also prepare for my Viva! I remember a very British-Stiff-Upper-Lipish Mr Richard Ian Thornton (Our School Principal from 1983 to, I believe, 2003!) asking me question after question in his charecteristic, difficult to understand, soft and suave voice, and me the dim-wit-village-idiot looking on Blankly! (I remember - This is a Pencil is the only answer I could barely mumble out!)

Well, well, well - my father was not too happy for it. The apple of his eye had just bungled his chances of boasting about his kids (Big B did well for his entrance) studying at the most prestigious, possibly the snootiest school in town! Guess what - a mad rush at top speed standing in front on a second hand Bajaj Super followed - tears (Due to the cold wind dumbos) flowing down my cheek and as if this was not enough, an hour long session of "Nude Sunbathing" - yes this was before they decided that it was illegal for parents to suitably punish their kids deviant behavior - followed. Surprise, surprise, my school still thought I was good enough to be admitted, the only side effect of the entire episode being a slight denting of my ego and the near permanent tan that I got( Yup, I am tall, dark and handsome - just like them Italians - except the nose bit, which I inherit from a rather unimpressive set of ancestors!)

Despite my personal sleepwalking act through school, it was actually fun at Westcott Boys' (Bishop Westcott Boys' School for the uninitiated). It was actually more fun reaching school than being there - we used to get up at 4am and get ready for school which was close to 40-50Km from home (We were in a Hydro Electric Power Station whereas school was in Ranchi Town), we would take an old fashioned Jeep to School, Sohra, the Driver or Sohrai as his parents named him, being his usual cheerful self. We used to barely manage to reach just before morning assembly to recite our "Holy God" bit. Sometimes we would stop on the way to pick raw mangoes - and were resourceful enough to keep shaving blade and salt handy in the Jeep - and get late.

I joined 1A in westcott uner the able and subsequently ample presence of Mrs. Bawa, uneventfully got promoted to 2A - shit, don't remember who the class teacher was - and got rather unceremoniously passed on to the care of Ms. P D'cruz in 3A - I still remember toiling to "By Heart" the "I Saw a Ship a sailing, a sailing by the sea, I was it was laden with pretty things for thee" under her watchful eyes. Then I was moved to 4C - possibly due to my complete disinterest in studies - and do not remember the class teacher obviously because of my complete lack of interest in him!

5C and 6C was spent in the able care of the ever lovale Mr. Hansen and his booming voice, the admiration was mutual, that is why he requested to be promoted along with us to the higher class! My mother used to call him the "Lal-coat-wale-Sir" for his obvious love for the same Red-blazing jacket which he used to wear for all important occasions! 5C was also when Choubey - a classmate - first showed me a genuine, mint copy of western Porn - Long Dong Silver was truly well endowed!

7C was under the competent care of Mr. Sanyal and we all liked him, except for that one occasion when our only assignment over the weekend was to write "I won't do mischief in class ever again" a thousand times!

8B and 9B was spent under obviously forgetable teachers and by this time "Chakra" short for Chakravarty also had his strong and inept grip over the school administration and standard of teaching, but more importantly standard of Student-teacher relationship was definitely on a downward spiral.

10th Standard (Combined strength of 9A and 9B) was a saving grace spent under the able guidance of Mr. Mazumdar.

I went mostly un-noticed, except on those numerous occasions I scored a near perfect 99 in English Language and and Literature (Making complete sense of even Julius Caesar - complete original work of shakespeare, not a synopsis! A lot of my ineterst in Literature could be attributed to Miss Walker, who went on to become Mrs Kerketta, much to the collective dismay of a 60 strong class of -just-into-puberty-boys!- She was definitely good with her subject and also had a near mesmerising effect on us, especially with her habit of twirling her locks with her Index Finger - Left hand, to be precise). The other occasions was when an assignment I wrote for English (I remember it, it was a short story which necesarily was supposed to end with the line "..but when I opened the door, there was no one there.") got returned with the comment "Next time write an original short story." Well, Mrs. Kenswar, it happened to be well and truly original. Thank you, genuinely, for making me believe in my ability to one day, truly focus on, my writing, which that one sentence of your proved, I had in me. I wish someone pointed you to this Blog, despite all references to Sex, I am sure you'd be proud!

I scored a rather respectable 79% for my ICSE exams and decided to give up the "Never give in Dear Westcott, Strive to the set of the Sun, though you may not win, but you'll yet come in, if you will stick it through, thats the way we have in Old Westcott (1927 was when it was setup) - The best school of all, and we will strive (unsure about the exact word here) to its motto's power, till the last bugle call!" school song and move on to college - but that's another story for another day!

Non Nascor Mihi Solum - Live not for Self Alone! I don't know how far I have been successful in living upto that motto of my school.

The Story of My Experiments with Sex, Lies and Video Tapes!

This is a 4 Part Series where I talk about my life.

Part I: Executive Summary

Part II: How I Sleepwalked through School

Part III: How I Screwed my College Education

Part IV: My Life as as consequence of my MBA

Part : Executive Summary

I began going to school in the summer of 69! Well not really, it was more like the summer of 1984. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times - I scored a perfect "100" in Mathematics in my first term exam and an equally perfect "0" in English reading and recitation. Who said I had a way with words - more like I had a way with figures! Never mind, since that first term exam, my tryst with figures was on its way down the curve and my tongue was put to the job! I started scoring in the steady thirties in Mathethatics by the time I hit 5th Standard.

I sleepwalked through most of school before I realised that enough was enough - I did not have it in me to become a doctor, my maths score was dismal and Indian Writing in English was still not fashionable.

That's when I rekindled my fascination with Figures - of all varieties - if you know what I mean.

My ICSE scores were quite telling, a cool 86% in Mathematics - my guess is they cut 14 marks for jumping steps- this was before MCQs were part of 10th Exams and you were actually expected to follow sequential method of problem solving - no quickies, ensure enough foreplay!

My English score, much to the dismay of my English teachers who were secretly seeing the new Salman Rushdie in me, was a dismal 72%.

Well, I promptly opted for PCM, went on to crack NDA exam after NDA exam, despite the armed forces consistent failure in digging out a single Officer Like Quality in me!

Around this time I realised that there was a significant shift in my thinking - suddenly the only figures I was concentrating on were those between the pages of Playboy and heavenly bodies no more meant asteroids! To hell with Physics and Mathematics, it was all pure chemistry!

I went on to take Physics as my major subject in graduation. God only knows why - by this time I had absolutely lost all interests in deriving special theory of relativity a 100 yrs after Einstein did it! Most of my Physics Professors had not a single research paper to their credit, nor had they sired a single legitimate child - equivalent of a Boson - but they toiled on - fueling IIT dreams - mostly empty, of an entire generation.

I went on to do my MBA, topped my batch - accidentally, most likely - at least thats what half of my batchmates would have you believe! Then started my 7 year tryst with the two key discoveries of the last decade (1) The Seagull Effect and (2) The Carpenter Phenomenon! More about that later

To be continued...

O Sexy Sexy Mama - A Futile Debate

O Sexy Sexy Mama - A Futile Debate

This is not really a Traffic Signal Tale except that it happened while I was waiting for the signal to turn green at the traffic signal and heard the following song on radio O Sexy mama let us do the Sa Re Ga Ma, O! Sexy, Sexy Mama It’s quite a fun song actually and you do feel like Head-banging to the tune.Now, my daughter (who is two years old) is really good with songs. She can already sing but Pappu can’t dance Saba – thank God for small mercies – and was picking up this one quite nicely before the Censor board intervened and said that while the song can continue as it is in theatres and Radio, the word Sexy has to be replaced by the word Crazy for TV. There goes my chance to, through the nice offices of my daughter, proclaim that my wife is Sexy, now, if I am to believe my daughter, My wife is quite crazy. ओ मेरी पागल माँ, according to the censors is a better way to address your mom rather than ओ मेरी सेक्सी माँ!
Incidentally this is a Baba Sehgal Song, the same Baba Sehgal who sang रुकमनी, रुकमनी, शादी के बाद क्या क्या हुआ to the tunes of A. R. Rehman and got away with singing words like खटिया भी धीरे धीरे खट खट करने लगी, आगे पीछे हुआ तो छट पट होने लगी …In the early 90s, I had to run the distant between the commode and the living room in less than 3 seconds at the same time buttoning my shorts when this song, on a cassette borrowed from a friend first played on the record player at my home, my father had a nice laugh at my discomfort, of course. Both of us realized soon enough that I knew exactly why Khatiyas do खट खट!
Twenty years hence another generation of Indian’s is now growing up being fed cheap horror shows, cheap advertisements, loads of violence, cheap cartoons, grow up thinking it ultra cool to drink Cola from morning to evening, watch unaesthetic condom ads, think its all right for Mother-in-laws and daughter-in-laws to plot revenge through most of their living lives, for fathers and mothers to have multiple partners, and still believe that it’s wrong to have a mom who can be considered sexy! I think that’s unfair. Cultures were not meant to be static. They are by nature of definition supposed to be transient. So while I believe my mother will take offense if I called her anything but “माँ”, I am sure my daughter, if the censors allow her, can get away by calling her mom “ओ मेरी सेक्सी माँ.” I am equally sure, that she will get a proper spanking if she calls her “ओ मेरी पागल माँ.”I remember my Childhood days, Raj Kapoor and Nargis were not my favorite actors, hence I never realized that प्यार हुआ इकरार हुआ फिर भी प्यार से क्यूँ डरता है दिल could possibly have any other next line but डीलक्स निरोध सबसे ज्यादा बिकने वाला कंडोम! And believe me; I have my own pervert habits, but it in no way made a worse man out of me than I would have otherwise been, if I did not know the word condom as a child!As far as film songs go, I have my own reservations about what some of them dish out in the name of lyrics – and I do not see a chronological sequence of degeneration, they were good or bad across the entire length of Indian Cinema – nevertheless, I think most kids know चोली के पीछे क्या है, they after all spent most of their first six months trying to figure that one out!I am trying to figure out whether it’s a sexy debate or a crazy debate! A futile debate, anyone?

O! Futile Futile Mama.

10 Reasons why Matrimonial Sites Don't Work

I was browsing through a matrimonial site and came across these hilarious profiles. No. Don't get me wrong, I have no intention of marrying any of these men! Its just that I was actually scouting for masala for my Blog.

1. 35 Year old Divorcee father of two is looking for a 26 year old virgin girl.

Experience should carry youth along if this country is to develop!

2. A Charcoal Black guy (Michael Jackson wasn't fair to begin with people!) is looking for very fair, milky white girl.

You want dalmatians as offsprings.

3. A well settled software engineer is looking for a beautiful, homely, working (well settled, software? does not seem to matter) girl.

An unsettled cook-cum-maid will bring more spice to life.

4. A short and plump highly successful professional is looking for a slim and health conscious girl.

You the Brand Manager for Kelloggs K Challenge?

5. A Milky White, spiritual, ambivert (Where's the fucking dictionary guys?) from a close knit family is looking for a tall, working, fashion consciuos very fair girl.

You looking for a MTV VJ? Sheetal Malhar matches your partner profile to 6Sigma levels but does not qualify.

6. A very handsome (His parents did a Gallup Poll it seems) family oriented guy is looking for a sasural oriented girl.

Too many families spoil the equation.

7. A Guy who has visisted Europe and USA several times and whose parents are well settled in Mumbai and whose ancestral roots are in Mugalsarai is looking for a homely girl.

The girl should not have ventured beyond champaran.

8. A 38 year old straight forward guy is looking for a girl with substance and youthfulness.

Looking for an underage drug addict dude?

9. Someone is looking for a tall, fair, jovial, homely, accomodative, traditional and custom oriented working girl who can also cook, iron, and darn.

You obviously wants to have multiple partners. Naughty you!

10. A personal with wit, charm, energy, 6 figure salary and six pack abs, is looking for just about any girl from any background.

He is obviuosly gay and is doing this just to get his parents to shut up.

A Matter of Interpersonal Choice - The Kunti Phenomenon

Last night I caught up with a debate on TV, on the pros and cons of Premarital Sex. Both sides had very self righteous approach to it. One side talked all about gaining experience - what’s wrong in Being a Management Trainee in Marriage, instead of straight being a CEO, I wondered, and please that’s not the only experience required for a successful marriage, how about more mundane areas like Cooking and Budgeting, and Child Birth – the other side talked all about abstinence, to keep oneself a virgin for your husband/wife, mostly husband because I do not hear too many debates where it is found worthwhile to ask whether a guy is keeping himself in pristine condition for his future wife.

The main question in my mind was, where does right or wrong come in, is it not a question of personal choice, or maybe a question of interpersonal choice!

And yes, most of these debates equate virginity with vaginal sex, there where no clarifications on Oral or other forms of sex, or even masturbation! To my mind, Virginity is a state of mind. If, in your mind, you have experienced desire, if in your mind you have had an orgasm, or if you have really had an orgasm, you are no more a virgin (You may call it the Kunti Hypothesis – apparently no Sex was involved, but because she gave birth to Karna just by thinking of the Sun God – She lost her virginity and had to go a great length to hide the fact!)

Otherwise, there is no other definition of virginity that is gender neutral and hence progressive. Alternatively, as an after thought, you may say that if two or more people are involved in a sex act, virginity is lost (irrespective of how far you go – heavy petting, mutual masturbation, intercourse etc), else not.

Now the question is, if virginity is lost, does it matter? I think not, but then that’s my opinion, and to impose my opinion on others would defeat the very secular nature of this article!

THE UNCOMMON MAN!

He walks out of his office. It’s his last working day and he has decided to not be polite even for a moment. After all it’s not his style. He is not a common man.

He is, after all, by popular account – The uncommon man, Man, MAN!

But to begin at the beginning once more, he walks out of his office, or rather his big, bad paunch walks out first, and he follows a couple of minutes later. I remember someone saying – Structure follows strategy. Is this what they meant, I wonder.

He walks out, and he is thinking something. You can make that out by the way he twitches his moustache – no, wrong expression - he actually twitches his nose and the moustache follows obediently.

His day has been normal, he is mega satisfied with himself, having sent some really rude e-mails, for having woken up people from their apparent disinterest in what are potentially cutting edge assignments. He positively cannot fathom as to why others don’t share the same enthusiasm for excellence, the minimum standards for any assignment is after all, “world-class”.

In this age of inclusiveness and diversity, he is the greatest champion of diversity. He has this knack to respect, and to insult, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, genetic map, etc.

He is actually diversity personified.

He is a minority unto himself and to have him in the team is by itself a very satisfactory diversity policy and success story! Where else can you find a person who potentially can become the first casualty of a POSH he himself launched! Now come on, who in their right senses would do something as crazy?

He is a master in music, mainly classical. But he is classic in his mastery, or lack thereof, of Hindi. Even here, he does not, true to form, distinguish, or shall we say, discriminate between genders, Women to him, are man enough!

Ladies and gentlemen, I regrettably but quite proudly (for having known him) escort a very uncommon MAN out of our doors.

May the doors be kept open, in hope that, the paunch, and its owner, will walk in again! Structure, as always, will have to follow strategy.

I wonder who will do the insulting around here now!

Immaturity to Maturity Continuum

The question I had in mind while posting this peice of Behavioral Science was, what is the effect of Positive or Negative Reinforcement (B.F.Skinner)on a person's movement on the Continuum.

However, in this day and age, I honestly don't know what being immature means. Is Political correctness and making people hear what they want to hear - Maturity and as a consequence, being honest and upfront- immaturity?

Suppose someone asks me for an opinion, and I give them mine, and its not exactly what they had in mind in the first place - Which one of us is immature, I, for having a difference of opinion, or they, for not being able to live with that difference! Is disagreeing with a point of view Immaturity or is being disagreeable on being confronted with an alternate opinion, Immaturity?

Those are my questions on defining Maturity. However, the more important question that I have is what do I do with all the negative reinforcement that I am getting to exhibit a certain kind (read - preconceived) of mature behavior. Do I shrug in indifference. Do I study it like the way I am doing now as a keen observer of the subject, or do I, myself being the subject as well, allow myself to be led by the consequences of the theory, to be moulded into a certain pattern of behavior which may be mature by definition, but definitely not a true piece of me, and hence, not of consequence to the moulder. Catch 22!

Murphy’s Law Revisited

To begin at the beginning, Murphy’s Law is that thing which makes you make pulp out of your thumb when you are hammering a nail and you let lose expletives you didn’t know you knew.

Of course, in the simplest of terms, it simply states that “if anything can go wrong, it will.” Like the time when you have 3 sets of keys for all your bedroom doors and lock the door INSIDE WHICH ALL THE KEYS have been accidentally left!

So, Mr. Murphy is at his best when you are under stress. Did I tell you that the second Gas Cylinder we booked in August 2006 became due to be delivered to us on January 25th 2008, so wherein Mr. Murphy, you ask? Did I not tell you that we changed our dealer on January 19th and the booking apparently does not hold good with the new dealer? Cheers. Incidentally, the Solitary Cylinder, as it is, has been empty - like the Brains of people who make such rules - since ages and nothing stopped us from playing lazy and doing the transfer AFTER we had taken the second cylinder. Then again, Mr. Murphy had ensured that we had no way of knowing that the second cylinder, pending for a year and a half will get cleared at precisely the time when the maximum salt inflicted damage could be done to the wound, another one of those irritating Murphy’s Law corollaries.

Whilst on the subject, I realize that there are so many possibilities that exist in life to make Mr. Murphy’s day productive. Here are 10 examples from daily life (you are free to add 10 more in the comments section):

1. You can never set the shower knobs to the perfect blend of hot and cold water, either scald yourself, or freeze!
2. The only time otherwise busy people will have to look at you, you will be caught yawning or digging your nose!
3. Your ass will itch only while you are in a public place!
4. You cannot fart quietly in a crowded place, especially if there is female company!
5. Your boss will call you in the morning on the day you are late to work. Other days, he doesn’t know you exist.
6. Corollary to 5: You will be late to work on the day of an important meeting.
7. The only day the lunch dabba cover falls on you lap in 3 years is the day you are wearing white / near white trousers to work. Of course, you also have a post lunch meeting scheduled the same day!
8. If the only dinner you are planning on your way back from work is a glass of milk, rest assured that you forgot to keep it in the fridge in the morning and it would have curdled.
9. There are no places to hide your stockpile of porn which your mom can’t reach.
10. Corollary to 9: If your dad is the first to switch on the TV and DVD in the morning, you forgot Long Dong Silver in the DVD last night.

This was my small tribute to the genius of Mr. Murphy. Do keep writing in with your own compilation of similar Laws.