Who moved my Curd Rice

Ok. I know.

The title of this post is deceptively similar to a Best Seller Self Help Book. Disclaimer: The similarly is purely coincidental and not an attempt to fleece the popularity of that book.

It's not one of my seven habits to write lift offs. Come to think of it, its not even my bathrobe.

So, is this one of those cookery blogs...not really...its not even Chicken soup for the Soul...

To write a Cookery blog, after all would be a recipe for disaster.

So, what is this blog about?

Frankly, it's an ode to mediocrity. It's all about "Forget, Who Moved my Cheese...Who allowed me to get some cheese in the first place.!"..I was so happy with my Curd Rice...it goes well with Mango Pickle...it's difficult to move...both little people and little mice can't move it...and no one can move the big people...which is what the result is, if you have enough of curd rice!

So, who moved my curd rice!!!

Once upon a time...there was a Baba...not Baba Sehgal...although he was there too...this was one of them real things...those who teach Strip Yoga and Tantric Sex to middle aged foreigners. This one was the Before Specimen of Before and After adverts for Waxing Strips. Where there is a Baba...there is a baby (No..I think I got that one wrong...I think that one goes something like where there is a Bill there is a Monica...Aw! forget it...I am mixing these things...someone get my Cigar.)

So this Baba...he decided to write a book - It's actually quite simple to attain babadom...you begin with Tantric Sex...move on to an Ashram of your own (any order is fine...just don't forget the Sex)..get a fan following...write a book...get an exclusive MMS of your own...and voila...you are now a Baba. You should either be a Baba...or you should be Paris Hilton. All other Professions are for losers. Where is the curd rice - you must be thinking. Rightly. You see, there is no Curd Rice. There wasn't meant to be. Curd Rice was a metaphor.

Metaphors are the next big thing. Discovering new Metaphors is something like discovering the diamond in you.

Come to think of it, unless your mom was a rich babe...I doubt very much they will find a diamond inside of you. Not too many people can shit diamonds, it takes real guts to do so...pun purely by accident.

Well, this Baba...like all other Baba's, wanted to write a book. Like typical Baba books, this one was about discovering your inner voice. It talked off, among other things...writing the script for your inner voice...listening to the positive energy flowing through your inner voice. Really, if you spend too much time talking to your inner self, you'll end up in one of those Nursing homes for the rich. The ones where they give you enaemas if you get a headache.

To be continued...

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!

Bangalore to Kanyakumari Via Madurai and Rameshwaram

It has taken me a while to get back to writing. Actually, it has taken me a while to get back to Life itself after having my share of chasing the mundane.

The folks were in and wanted to take a train or a Bus to Kanyakumari from Bangalore -not exactly my idea of a fun Vacation -so suggested that I tag along as the designated Driver and we do this leisurely on the Swift! Boss was sweet (Writing this line as it is the Annual Review Season) and granted Leave pronto.

As these things go, scheduled a routine service for my Car and the day of service it got buggered by a bike and ended up with a proper maintenance schedule of a Week with 3 days to go for the Trip! Did not want to do this trip on a Alto-Lets go with 4 Adults and 1 hyperactive Kid so exchanged it with Ajay's Swift (TN Registration was an additional boon since it meant that one would not get too noticed while one drove down TN Roads!) and the Car held good (After a 9 Point Service and Nitrogen in the Wheels) for all of 1760Kms although the fuel efficiency could have been better!

The Drive started off well on Sunday the 25th April, we started early (about 8.00am) and hit a relatively free NH7 beyond Hosur - We carried our own Lunch so did not really have a lengthy stopover anywhere except to have lunch by the way side (Had a Large Ice Bag so there was no dearth of Supply of Chilled Butter Milk for most part of the day!)

We hit Madurai around 2PM (435Kms in 6 Hrs with a stopover of about an Hour is not such a bad thing!) and checked into Hotel Tamil Nadu - Madurai I (Old Properly but very clean and very neat and Value for Money for a Twin Bedded A/C Room with Separate Dressing Room at Rs1000/Night! - Was our acco of choice at all stopovers wherever rooms were available. You Can book online at http://www.ttdconline.com/) - We spent the evening at Meenakshi Temple and I alone spent the night at the TTDC Bar with a Rum and Coke!

26th Morning saw us head for Rameshwaram and enroute we changed plans to come back for the night to Madurai and instead decided to stay back at Rameshwaram - at hindsight a good decision - Rashmi booked the Hotel at Rameshwaram - Non TTDC as it was not available since we planned our trip and one of the reasons for the original decision to head back to Madurai instead of staying over at Rameshwaram. Rashmi also managed to get TTDC to postpone our 26th Stay at Madurai to 29th (for our return journey)

Rameshwaram was great especially Pamban Bridge which connects the mainland to the Island. The place is falling apart due to neglect but retains its original Temple Town charm.

Performed Pooja at the Ramanathswamy temple on 27th before heading off to Kanyakumari. Realised that there was a Bandh Call by the Left, so decided to stick to the National Highway rather than take the smaller State Highways and connecting roads. This meant coming all trhe way back to Madurai on NH 49B (Two Lane-but road in excellent condition and rejoining NH7 from there on, possibly an additional 50 Kms, but worth not taking a risk). Still managed to hit Kanyakumari at 3PM (Started from Rameshwaram at 1o:30am and travelled a total of 405Kms.). NOT.BAD.AT.ALL.

TTDC Hotel Tamil Nadu Kanyakumari was more...much...much...more than what I expected. Two Double Rooms for Two nights at Rs.4080 Plus Taxes gave you a Beach front property where Peacocks (in the plural and wild ones!) strolled on the Lawns. The Bar stocked Old Monk at 50 bucks a Large! The Restaurant served Indian, Chinees and Tanthoori Food - Good Food spelling notwithstanding!

The Heat was killing although Vivekananda Rock Memorial and Thiruvaluvar statue were great. The Sunrise was a dampener due to over cast conditions, but still got a good picture!

Also discovered the Suchinram Temple (The only temple of its kind where Bramha,Vishnu and Mahesh are worshipped together as a Trinity and presumably the place where Indra got salvation after doing the deed with Ahilya, hence the name Suchindram!). It's here that we found a place selling Barotta (Sounds like Beretta!) and Boori Masal (I know it sounds like a very hot and very well known place but roughly translates into Poori-Sabji!)

The Drive Back from Kanyakumari was a relaxed one, we took our time to start and reached Madurai only at 5PM. Checked into Hotel Tamil Nadu Madurai Unit II (A Star property, no less although the rate remains reasonable at 1200+Tax for a Double A/C Room. It was here that I also realised that since we managed to continuously stay at 3 Hotel Tamil Nadu's at a Stretch, we had a 15% discount due to us! (Pocketed a cool 1272/- which meant that Petrol for the Journey Back was now Free!). The Bar (Bar-Bar for me on this Trip, as you've noticed by now!) was as good as ever although costlier in terms of 65 Bucks for a large Old Monk!

Basically did nothing but sleep on this trip to Madurai, although did manage to catch up with the beautiful Thirumalai Naick Palace the next day before heading back to Bangalore.

Reached Bangalore at around 5.30pm on 30th April and headed straight for the Balcony to check on my 24 Potted plants (All survived, partly due to heavy watering and Plastic covers placed around the roots before we started our Journey!) and Buckets of Water flowed!

The body gave up around 7PM and stayed that way till 1PM the next day (A Good Massage at Ojus between 11 and 1 cured me!)

Will add details as I remember them. You can catch up on the Photos on my Facebook profile, till I figure out a fast way to load a slideshow here.

Hope you enjoyed reading this account.

A Few of Life's Missing Pieces, I wish I still Had

1. Those 10 bucks Haircuts underneath the Mango Trees!
2. Rum and Coke at Anup Khalkho's Christmas Nights!
3. Hot Samosas, Chai, Shared Suttas (The Golden Puff) and Chilling Rain through the thatched roof!
4. Porn smuggled through the back door in the middle of the night!
5. Gawking at Girls at Subhash Bose Chowk (Real freedom!)
6. Haywards 5000 and Butter Chicken at Punjabi Dhaba!
7. Thinking that Flying Machine was an International Brand!
8. Setting up Chinese Food Stalls for Durga Pooja - Not making any money - Having loads of fun!
9. Reading Mills & Boon and pretending one does not!
10. 7 Rs Lunch shared with Girlfriend at Jal Joga - Salad thrown in Free once the Fatherly waiter realised we did not have much money!

Laughing all the way to the Bank.

Well, finally got a late night's shows ticket to 3idiots last friday and since then have been trying to post this. There has been a lot of "song-and-dance" - pardon the bad pun- about how Chetan Bhagat got screwed by Aamir and Gang! Screwed? My Ass!

I have read the book and I have seen the movie. .AND. I am a huge fan of Chetan Bhagat for Making Indian Writing in English less about Elephants and Snake Charmers and more about the BPO Guy.

The Book borrows a semblance of a plot from the Novel (as it should as they brought the rights) but then, its a normal College Story like so many of them, which may or may not have got written!

And Poor Ol' Chetan Bhagat...not so poor after all. The reasonably good 5.someone,the horrendous 3mistakesofmylife and the delightful 2states are all doing brisk business, thanks to all the controversy.

Having said that; I think it's in bad taste to deny him proper credit.

Cheers!

Another Year Gone and the next one on its way out by the days!

So 2009 is history, so is day one of 2010! How time flies.

Well, well, well! So how was 2009, I ask. Was it all of what family, friends, well wishers and unknown numbers promised you at the stroke of Midnight, Jan 1, 2009 through hastily forwarded SMS's most of which you forwarded, but did not reply to?

That brings me to the next question. How many of those hastily forwarded messages of Jan 1, 2010 and the well wishes they bring have moved you to tears? I got more messages from unknown numbers than from people I interact with on a daily basis. These unknown numbers, most of which, I did not bother to find out and assign a name to, are people from the past, some recent, most not so recent, all however, well meaning people, who become supersenti about your well being for exactly a day on 01-01-whatever before getting on with their "normal" lives the next day. Who cares about 3-idiots when we have all turned out to be 300000 idiots despite educations best effort!

Let it be. Lets' not become cruelly disillusioned at 2:34am on Day 2 of the TENTIES, as someone suggested this decade should be called. Pun or no pun, suggest its high time, we pitched our TENTS in the backyards of new beginnings and give up on silly middle class dreams! For every Ambani there are a million Nobanis and for every Tata, there are those bye-byes.

TOI and Jang group came out with "Aman ki Asha" to foster peace between India and Pakistan. A good beginning. I hope it tests the boundaries of the human spirit and makes the impossible, possible. Even the Berlin Wall fell.

Someone asked me what my new year resolution was. Quite honestly, I was flummoxed. Resolution, huh? I thought we discussed those when our carefully prepared PowerPoint presentations didn't look quite quite so carefully prepared when we projected them on the Big Screen. But, then again, That's what we have made of our lives, one hell of a PowerPoint pesentation, where you move from slide to slide, justifying a point of view, knowling fully well, that it's as easy to make a contrarian presentation using exactly the same material!

HIV AIDS, remains the greatest of killers, as ever and we are busy promoting the H1N1 vaccine. Ruchika continues to search for justice after almost 2 decades and we are figuring out what to call the next decade. The media decides to fight for her cause, only once the TRPs become guaranteed. Jharkhand votes for change by completely ensuring the ruling party does not get enough seats। The same guy becomes CM again!

And yes fairness cream was doing as brisk a business as ever.

खुश है ज़माना आज पहली तारीख है! मीठा है खाना आज पहली तारीख है!

Well, I resolved, not to resolve.

Happy New Year!

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.