9.8 m/s² Se Mera Kya Hoga…

Season’s Greetings

The Gremlin Conspiracy

Ra.One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest…

THE MOST PAWARFUL MAN IN THE UNIVERSE!

Ibu Hatela: Origins

Look me in the eye and tell me that the guy who played Ibu Hatela in Kanti Shah’s Gunda absolutely *does not* look like Dolly Bindra. Lie to me. Rid me of my nightmares.

Na Sar Jhuka Hai Kabhi…

Wake me up, when October ends (Part I)

Yes, I make references to songs that have lived their prime and are now ringtones of Popeye shirt wearers who have ‘™ Verified ✔’ suffixed to their Twitter handles. I am extremely cool that way.

Last month, I went for the Mumbai #TedxGateway at ITC, Lower Parel. I was supposed to live-tweet the entire event except for one little problem. ITC had conveniently blocked the wi-fi so every journo and blogger present at the event would have to buy a slower-than-Vijay-Raaz’s-metabolism 128 kbps internet plug in that costs around 1K for the whole day.

Rest assured, PR is not an ITC priority. (Not to mention the dickish “Tobacco is my middle name” thing they have going on.)

"So we'll piss off a hundred something journalists and social media geeks. What's the worst that could happen?"

But despite these glitches (read: colossal douchebaggery by the ITC group), the day was pretty eventful for most. The speakers covered everything from incubators to Dabbawala management strategies to railway-tracks neuroscience to malaria to teaching for slum kids to hollow zombie ants to The Ramones to linguistic patterns to Jackie Shroff’s Sai Baba movie.

Okay, maybe not last thing.

There were several high points throughout the event including Srini Swaminathan’s ‘Teach for India’ initiatives in Dharavi, Richard Gottehrer and Seymour Stein’s reminiscing the glory days of punk & new wave and of course, lunch.
But since this is not a puff piece and I get pissed off at things randomly, I shall now start talking about the low points.

"NOT A PUFF PIECE?! OH NOEZ!!!"

Though some speakers had horrible stage presence, most of them had their hearts in the right place. Under their ribcage and to the upper left part of their torsos. Yes. Despite their inability to grab the audience by their eyeballs, they seemed to be nice people in general.

Except of course, the abomination that was Yugratna Srivastava. Apart from the fact that she looked like the Mini Me to T. Rajendar’s Dr. Evil, she also seemed as concerned about her cause as Yahoomail is about spam-filtering. Her/its cause was supposedly Climate Change – But it could’ve been anything from ‘MY quest for Truth, Justice, the 3rd World Way…’ to ‘A Powerpoint Portrayal of the Most Overly Forwarded Pictures in the World’. After showing the umpteenth picture of starving African children, polar bears on melting blocks of ice and factories emitting smoke to a thoroughly desensitized audience, she proceeded to tell everyone present of ‘her’ exploits in the UN, how ‘she’ talked to officials in South Korea and ‘she’ changed the world in general. All this in a lovely accent that resonated a Hyderabadi tour guide trying impress an American tourist at Golconda Fort.
In a nutshell, your quintessential T. Rajendar lookalike, sucker-upper to teachers with no discernible talent who beats up small animals who no one’s looking.

Actual file photo.

Also, her presentation aptly ended with a picture of a cock crossing a plank. I am *not* making this up.

On a different note, I have debated endlessly with my esteemed peers (they drive Maruti Esteems) over the supremacy of the ‘real’ Ted Talks over the independently organised Tedx Talks. Though both parties have valid arguments over the matter, I have a game-changer of a point in favour of #TedxGateway.

Please tell me you get the reference.

Yes.

(To be continued…if I feel like it)

The Roadie Less Travelled

It’s that time of the year again. The birds are chirping and flowers are blossoming.
Actually, no.

Let’s start all over again:
It’s that time of the year again. The birds have just been killed by a Khap panchayat near Gurgaon. Apparently, they were of the same phyla.

Look at them - Incestuous fuckers.

As for the blooming flowers, they recorded an MMS and lived happily ever after.

Screengrab taken right before the money shot.

But that isn’t reason enough for me to make a post, is it? Now ‘Rakhi Ka Insaaf’, now that’s a reason for a post. Sorry to disappoint you guys, but I am a man of class now. A lot has changed, in my quarter year long hiatus. My tastes have been refined to the extent of people mistaking my farts for avant-garde violinists. So, nevertheless, I choose not to indulge in such low-brow, blue-collar, bourgeois entertainment. Instead, I will talk about Roadies.

Pictured: Target Demographic.

Some might say that Roadies is the Chetan Bhagat of Indian television, catering to the same honour-killing demographic.

I say, nay.

Roadies is more like the Arindam Chaudhuri of Indian television – catering to a demographic several notches scarier than honour-killers: IIPM aspirants.

After posing for the ad, each one of them went and molested a snail.

So without further filler-content, from the deepest, darkest corners of Noida, I give to you:

An Open Letter From A Roadie To The World

Hello World (especially the ladies and madams),
There is not enough space in the bonnet of my constantly throbbing heart to store the love that is within me. This love is sexy like a well-oiled Hrithik-bicep, it is kind like the soulful eyes of Ram Gopal Verma, it is full of emotion like a papaya tree in Gurgaon and finally, it is forever, like Batman in 1995. Girls have looked straight into my cuddly eyes and told me to not break their hearts in public. Even though by ‘their hearts’ I actually mean ‘wind’, you have samjhofy the Bhavna within.

People ask me sometimes, “How are you so manly?” I say, “Simple. It is from devotion to God, failing matriculation exams twice and having Chavanprash with milk.” When they stare at me disbelievingly, I interject with “Also, Whey Proteins.” After which I ceremoniously do a wheelie on my bike while going triple-seat with my best friends Chandu and Rocky. Or as you might know them from newspapers as “Two caught in jewelery store robbery at Bhandup”. Good luck to them.

But ‘manly’ is not the only compliment I receive from everyone. From time to time, I am also called ‘sexist’. Cool, no? In fact, I’ll go as far as to say that I’m the Sexist Man Alive. Peepal Magazine said so twice. Rod promise. LOL. See what I did there? Of course you didn’t. You don’t have any IQ. I do, however. I know IQ personally. Inzamam Qureshi is my childhood friend from my colony.

Some people are critical personalities. They say to my face that I don’t have ambition. I tell them, “Listen, I have ride on Unicorn and Splendour. They are much better than ambition.” Then I show them the ‘thumbs up’ which means ‘bad luck’ in Indian culture. I’m so smart, it scares me sometimes. But most of the times, it keeps asking for pocket-money.

Speaking of Indian culture, I love my country. I hate western culture, especially if the ladies practice it. I hate premarital sex. According to me, it is the main cause of sexy diseases like dyslexia and pimples in your special area. But at the same time, I support STDs. How else would I talk to my mamaji in Ranchi, then? You tell me.

But the real reason I hate western culture is that the Britishers were colonizers. They performed colonoscopies all the time. In all regions. At the same time, I grateful to western culture for giving me things like Internet and fairness-creams. By the way, please add me on Orkut. That way you can see a photo of posing next to a red Lancer that belongs to my neighbour. Don’t you feel lucky already?
You don’t? Well, you shouldn’t. Lucky is a very good friend of mine from the call-center. He can do twenty push-ups in two minutes. He is today’s generation’s Mamta Kulkarni.

Like my favourite actor Harman Baweja’s career, this open letter too, should come to an end. But before I go, I have to say these inspirational words: “RAGHUJI, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, PLEASE TAKE ME FOR THE ROADIES. I AM THE BEST ROADIES YOU CAN FIND ON THE STREET. I HAVE BEEN RIDING BIKES SINCE AGE THREE. I AM RESPECTFUL, GENTLE HUMAN BEING WHO BELIEVES IN THE POWER OF LOVE AND ‘ALL NIGHT STAMINA’ PILLS. PLEASE GIVE ME ONE CHANCE, SIR. ONE CHANCE!!! I PROMISE TO STOP HARASSING YOUR PET DOG.”

Thank you for reading so far. I feel like you are my best friend already. So please respond to my friend request.

Regards,
A Roadies.

Recap rhymes with kneecap. Coincidence?

I’m sensing that all you readers sense a lull here. And since a lot of you have been visiting this blog regularly like nice little children, and because I’m a philanthrophist at heart, I give you stuff that I wrote for money while ignoring the tender needs of this blog.
And here be my adultrous posts:

Have you ever wondered what overly stereotyped movie couple you and your loved-one (fine, you can include your parrot) are?

No? Then maybe you’d like to know about things to do while in the loo?

That doesn’t catch your fancy either? But you really wanna know why the utterly brilliant animation film ‘Bird Idol’ (with utterly brilliant animation) is better than ‘Indian Idol’, right?

No? What kind of a person ARE you? Nevermind that – you’re definitely wondering how one can make one of them incredibly ground breaking Gurinder Chadha movies? Huh, huh?

Fine. You sound like a creep. Want in on the hows and the ‘how are you doing madam I am sexy, juicy boy’ of Facebook stalking?

Oh, did I hit the wrong chord there? Are you the one being stalked on Facebook? Look no further…

Am I being annoying? Yes, then learn from the master himself on the culminated virtue that is annoying people.

This not quite cutting it for you? Well maybe we can both speculate the inherent lack of live-action versions of these awe-inducing cartoon shows…

What? None of these? You seem like a Hrithik Roshan fan. You have watched Kites, right? You haven’t? Oh, wait, nobody has. Either ways, you know what I’m talking about…

What? Why’re you looking at me like that? People have done worse things for money, alright?

Pictured: Worse things

On a similiar note, it should be duly noted by the jury that these were written under the harshest circumstances, and as strictly, a monetary venture.
On a different note, DO NOT JUDGE ME BECAUSE I WRITE SUBSTANDARD SHIT FOR MONEY, judge me because I hate mangoes. And your second cousin. In that order.

P34C3 B33CH35.