Showing posts with label nonsense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonsense. Show all posts

Saturday, October 31, 2009

The Man Behind the Nonsense

Sit down.
Sit down, I say.
Attaboy. Attagal.

All the boys and girls out there piercing the air with their shrill seetis and dancing dhoom-dhadakka to celebrate my return to the blogosphere - please, sit down first. Now that I have your attention, please allow me to offer my obsequious apologies. I am sorry, but this is not a blog post. That's right, this is not one of those usual long blogposts which you've come to expect from me... you know, the kind of posts that add a couple of rings to the halo around your head, purify your soul and take you closer to nirvana. I want to clarify this at the very outset because I don’t want people to later feel that they were promised a full-blown Pizza party but only got garlic breads in return. I am not blogging because I am on a vacation. A break. A holiday. From everything. You see, months of play-acting at my workplace in good ol' Bangalore had taken a toll on me , so I decided now was a good time to come home for a small Diwali break and make a well deserved pit-stop in the corporate rat race. Well, Diwali has come and gone, but I have no intention of going back to work anytime soon - I've already extended my vacation twice. Tell me who would want to go back to work when you can as well stay in your hometown, plop an easy chair in your garden, snooze from sunrise to sunset, and glutton on Mom's dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So I mumbled an excuse to my manager (the usual one - about falling ill without warning, being admitted to the hospital to get a CT scan done for a common cold and how the kind Doctor's advised for a week of compulsory bed rest and how sorry I feel about missing all the work and blah blah blah) and decided to stay put in my hometown for another week. So that is why I don’t want to write a proper blog post; I mean think of it – a cricketer doesn’t play cricket on his vacation, a software engineer doesn’t pretend to work while on vacation, a labourer doesn’t labor while on vacation, so why should a blogger blog on a vacation? Logical, na?

So I was just idling around on the Web, browsing inane sites and casually hopping from one blog to another, when I found this little tag on one of the blogs. It is the usual kind of tag, which requires you to answer a few questions about yourself that no one would otherwise care a hoot about. I have always steered clear of doing tags; answering mundane pre-set questions about oneself never really interested me. But 10 months and 20 posts later, I realized that there will be people who would want to know a little more about me.... awestruck people who look at my blog and wonder Wow! who is this guy, what planet does he come from, what does he eat, what color toothbrush does he use, what size banian does he wear, when do I get to slap him etc etc. So I decided now would be a good time to do one of those tags. Being on a vacation with not wanting to write proper blogposts, I thought doing a question-answer tag that requires no application or creativity is a novel way of passing time. And of course, to remind my readers how much I and my blog actually suck. Heh heh heh. Anyway, without further ado, up up and away here we go:


1. What is your current obsession?
Mobile phone cinematography. I would like to believe that I specialize in wildlife. Here’s a sample wildlife clip that I shot recently with my loyal Sony Ericsson W800i which undoubtedly shows off my extraordinary skill in err… wildlife cinematography. Here’s presenting- Kittu, the cat. National Geographic, here I come. (Apologies for the choppy video streaming, but I hope that doesn’t sully my résumé)




2. What are you wearing today?
A kurta, torn at the armpits and a pyjama, not torn anywhere.

3. What’s for dinner?
As I said I've come home for vacation. I asked Mom and Dad, both excellent cooks, to make me a simple, spartan home-cooked meal of Noodle Soup, Masala Papad, Butter kulchas, Shahi Mutter Paneer, steamed vegetable Biryani with dal and boondi raita, French fries, Gulab Jamun and Mango Lassi. Let’s see. But looking at the incredulous smirks on their faces, it looks like the only thing I'll be having for dinner tonight is a plate of humble pie.

4. What’s the last thing you bought?
Hmmm... a Gillette Series Shaving Foam and a pack of razor blades. Sadly, not many approve of my rustic, caveman like charm.

5. What are you listening to right now?
"Kyoon Keeda Hai Aapko" track from the movie that ought to be India's next entry to the Oscars - QuickGun Murugan. Yes, I listen to such songs.

6. What do you think about the person who tagged you?
In short, he is God’s best gift to mankind. Actually, in trousers also he is God’s best gift to mankind.
Yeah I know. I tagged myself.

7. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?
Does anybody happen to know if the White House is available for rent?

8. What are your three must-have pieces for summer?
A swimming trunk, a large banana leaf and a big stick.
The swimming trunk is needed when you decide to visit the beach and take a dip in the Sea to beat the heat. The banana leaf is needed when your swimming trunks slip away under you and gets lost into the Sea and you desperately need something to wrap yourself with immediately. The big stick comes in handy to shoo away hungry stray cows and goats who may be tempted to make a buffet delicacy out of your banana leaf.

9. If you could go anywhere in the world within the next hour, where would you go?
Which reminds me to take a bathroom break. I will be back shortly, excuse me please.

10. Which language do you want to learn?
Ok, I am back. New language eh? I'd like to learn an African tribal language like Zulu/Swahili. Actually, I've already learnt a few sentences like “Jingalala hurr, jhumbalala hurr, hurr hurrr”. Translated, that means “Good morning, what a pleasant day, would you bring me my tea please?”

11. What’s your favourite quote?
I like those little poetic quotes uttered by famous world personalities. Here's one such favourite quote of mine. This one begs a question... an enigmatic, mystic expression of doubt, a query of the unknown that seeks the answers from the powers that be. It goes something like

"Mary had a little lamb
The Black Sheep was asked if he had any wool
Lamb and sheep, never heard of 'em ever since...
Did they both end up under the butcher's tool?”
- Sir Parikshith Kumar.

Among the famous simplistic quotes, here is my favourite

"I came, I saw, I'm still seeing" - Sir Parikshith Kumar

And this one,

"Three fourths of the Earth's surface is covered with water. Whether it is a bounty of Nature or loss of real estate is for you to decide" - Sir Parikshith Kumar

I've got more, but I think I should stop now.

12. Who do you want to meet right now?
I would like to meet Michael Schumacher and ask him to return the Ferrari he borrowed from me the other day.

13. What is your favourite colour?
Blue. After watching the movie Blue however, I am tempted to change my favourite colour to a certain shade of pink. Heh heh ;-)

14. What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own closet?
A multipurpose piece of cloth that doubles up as a floor mop on weekdays and as a faded, tattered pair of denim trousers on weekends.

15. What is your dream job?
Film Critic. Ah that is my kind of job. Your employer pays you handsomely to park your ass in an air conditioned theatre, watch flicks and stuff yourself with caramel popcorn week after week. You then go on air and tell the world that the best part of the movie was the intermission. Next, you puncture a hole or two in the screenplay, suggest to the audience that the movie script can be used as tissue paper, and lament the fact that the heroine didn't show enough cleavage. Voila! your movie review is complete. Now would you hand over my fat pay check and remove the fly out of my champagne glass please? Thank you.

Well, if there are no vacancies for the post a film critic, then I would prefer any kind of job that pays me to snooze 12 hours a day. I mean isn’t that literally what they call a ‘dream job’? :-)

16. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
I would buy gifts for my dear readers for patiently putting up with me and my blog for ten long months. You want to know what I’ll buy for you eh? Fork over that $100 first.

17. What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Men wearing lungis on a windy day and finding themselves convert unwittingly into makeshift Marilyn Monroes.
Women wearing tight little T-shirts that are naturally designed hover a few inches over their belly buttons - and yet for some strange reason, keep tugging at them every 30 seconds in futile attempts to cover maximum.

18. Who according to you is the most over-rated style icon?
I am not really a style conscious person, but to answer this question, I guess it’s got to be Malaika Arora. Just the other day I saw a group of lady colleagues in my office pouring over a fashion mag that had a photograph of Malaika aunty in a so-called trendy outfit and gushing about the lady’s sense of dressing. Trust me, that so-called trendy outfit really looked no different than a piece of hurriedly stitched up automobile seat cover to me.

19. What kind of haircut do you prefer?
A dreadlocked Mohawk.
Err... not really. With due consideration to my hairline which is receding at the speed of light, I think it’s better it to keep it short and neat.

20. What are you going to do after this?
Use my thumb and forefinger to hit Alt+Tab, move over to another webpage and upload a special piece of code that will percolate into the lanes and bylanes of the Internet and eventually hit NASA’s servers that control geostationary satellites that are orbiting up there. Once I have the satellites in my control, I will direct them to hover right outside your window and spy over your shoulder as you type your password on your Netbanking account. Once I know your passwords that way, I will siphon all your money from your respective accounts, buy a yacht and a mansion in Jamaica and spend the rest of my life there, sipping coconut water and doing the reggae with random hotties. Muwahahahaha. So basically it’s just the remaining questions on this stupid tag that’s keeping me from my little trip to Jamaica. So would you mind if I proceed, please?

21. What are your favourite movies?
Since I am a decent boy and this is a decent PG12 family entertainment blog, I will not name movies like “Reshma ki Jawani”, “Jungal Mein Mangal”, “Naughty Bahurani” , “Bhoot Ka Choot” etc here. Chee chee chee. So let me stick to the clean ones. Among my favourites are the Sanjay Dutt- John Abraham starrer “Zinda”, the legendary DDLJ and the Hollywood blockbuster “A Few Good Men”.

22. What’s your favourite magazine?
Again since this is a family place, I wouldn’t mention the Playboy. So I will lie and tell you that I like The Week, The India Today, Tinkle, Amar Chitra Katha etc etc.

23. What inspires you?
Almost everything... from people’s stupidity- which inspires me to be different from them to people’s ingeniousness – which inspires me to do better than them.

24. Give us three styling tips that always work for you.
1) After three days of usage, turn your socks inside out, spray some deodorant on them and wear them for three more days. Yoo hoo! Same socks, but a different shade.
2) As everyone keeps hamming “Always wear something that you are comfortable in”. By that logic, you should be wearing your night dress to your office.
3) Never leave your house without a handkerchief. What if your dear bike needs immediate dusting?

25. Coffee or Tea?
Bournvita.

26.What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?
Watch any movie that features Tusshar Kapoor/ Hurman Baweja / Adhyayan Suman / Emran Hashmi / Kamal Rashid Khan or alternatively, watch the contestants of Big Boss or any other reality show on TV for an hour or so. Then walk upto the mirror, put on a big smile and say “It’s OK Parry, relax, there are far bigger losers than you out there.”

27. What is the meaning of your name?
Etymology: “Pariksha” (Hindi/Sanskrit), meaning ‘Tested or put to test’.
Parikshith means ‘the one who is proven’. The one who has cleared all the tests he was put through (includes University examinations). The one who is inquisitive and examines everything minutely. The one who has received a stamp of approval from the Gods. You’ve seen those little stickers on clothing, crockery and electronic gadgets that say “Tested OK”? Yes, that’s what my name is all about. “Tested OK”.

28. How many more questions to go before this rubbish ends?
Three or four.

29. Wow, really?
Shut up and read.

30. Which other blogs do you love visiting?
Anand Ramachandran’s Son of Bosey – which is one of the funniest blogs I’ve ever come across so far. With each blog post designed as a rubbish, satirical press release, this blog has undoubtedly provided me some of my biggest laughs on the blogosphere. If you like nonsense humor, then I strongly suggest that you check out this blog. I’ll bet the hyenas that you’ll laugh until your belly hurts.
P.S For the information of all cricket aficionados, this guy also writes some absolutely hilarious articles on cricket and cricketers in the Heavy Ball section of Cricinfo Page 2. Check it out too.

And then we have that incredibly funny, adorable mountain-witch called Silverine. Anjali Philip, with her witty, sarcasm- laced humour has provided me some really memorable ROFL moments on the blogosphere. The best thing about this blog is that Ms. Philip has a rib-tickling update every week (usually on Mondays, so one yaay! for that), so you can have one big ROFL moment guaranteed every week. Muuuuuaaaah Anjali, I love you. Please excuse my body odor and accept a biiiiiigg bear hug from me.
P.S: Anjali, if you love me too, please reciprocate the feelings by waving excitedly at the computer screen, squinting your eyes and touching your nose with the tip of your tongue – all simultaneously.

Apart from the two maniacs listed above, my other regular sources of smiles and laughter include G3, Bullshee, Barun, Blunt Edges, Shanu and a host of others. Keep rocking guys! You’ve made so many of my days!

31. Which is that one blog post of yours that you consider to be a personal favourite?
Now this is like asking me to sift through a garbage mound and identify the piece of scrap that I find most appealing, but to answer the question, I like the ‘Love Poetry on Valentine’s Day’ post I had written on, you guessed it, Valentine’s Day. I won the Nobel Prize for Nonsense for that.

32. Favorite Dessert/Sweet?
Rasmalai. For that matter, I am attracted to just about any sweet. I am an ant in human guise.

33. Favorite Season?
Friends – Season 4.

34. If I come to your house now, what would you cook for me?
Bheja Fry.

35. What are you afraid of most?
That this tag will never end, that I will go on typing and typing and typing, and you will go on reading and reading and reading, and we’ll all die typing/reading and end up as skeletons slumped on our chairs with cobwebs for company.

Phew! Looks like I am done.
I tag: Everyone who featured on Question 30. Well, depending on your levels of joblessness, all of you reading this are welcome to take up this tag too.
I will be back with a proper blogpost soon. Till then, keep yourself safe,healthy and sane. Have fun!
Love,
Parry.

Monday, April 6, 2009

The Human Behaviour and Relationship Guide

Foreword by Dale Carnegie:

Parikshith Kumar is one of the world's foremost experts in 'human behaviour and relationships' . Such is his expertise in this field, that it rumored that he's well capable of writing books like "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus and Eunuchs are from Pluto" , even while lying in deep coma. Parikshith, or Parry as he is lovingly called (my wife calls him Hotty Pants) has wowed millions around the world with his deep insight on human relationships and gender behaviour. His classic books on human relationships have found their places in the hearts of millions of readers around the world and have smashed publishing records all over. His books have been made into psychologists' course materials, have found their way into MBA classroom case studies, and also been placed inside thousands of public restrooms around the world - so that people can read them when they go potty. From the stables of the great relationship guru and one of the world's most original thinkers comes another post which destined to change your lives and the way you look at people around you.

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At the very outset, I must say that I'm really humbled to have the great Dale Carnegie write a foreword to my post. Its an honor. For those of you who don't know who Dale Carnegie is - err.. never mind, ignorance is bliss.

Contrary to popular judgement, I am not the silver-haired, furry-browed expert on human relationship that I am purported to be. All that I do is to sit around and observe people around me. ( Applause! Applause! Holy Me! What modesty from the great skunk! ) . You see, to be a judge on human relationships and behaviour, you need to have an above average emotional quotient. Well, my emotional quotient is a zero drawn with a huge diameter. My emotional quotient, emotional remainder, emotional dividend, divisor - everything is a zero. I fall into a rare category of humans called 'Emotional Retards' - an oh so lovely bunch of people who are devoid of all emotions (except a few bare basic unmentionable ones), and bereft of all sentiments and sensitivities that are found in normal human beings.

To illustrate, let me tell you a fact about my self. The last time I cried or had moist eyes was 7 years ago. I can almost hear gasps from the other side of the computer screen, particularly coming from the women. "How can you not have moist eyes even once in seven years?!! You bloody robot!" , - I can hear them say. Now of course, women have tear glands that resemble the Ganges, I am not trying to compete with them, but the fact is even men cry. Yes, men do cry. According to a highly scientific survey I recently conducted, I found that an average male cried at least once a year (I have excluded Karan Johar, Roger Federer and my business manager from this survey- these men cry or are made to cry at a far more regular basis). So, once a year is the statistical tear-jerk figure for the men. ( The tear jerk figure for women is slightly higher - they only cry 365 times in a year and 366 times if it is a leap year) . Mind you, even on that one solitary occasion, men don't cry openly. Most of them lock themselves up inside a restroom and bawl their eyes out- often hugging the commode for comfort. I do this once in 7 years- so you can imagine my levels of emotional retardation.

Let me further my case. A couple of years back, a movie called Taare Zameen Par hit the Indian screens. Taare Zameen Par (TZP), a melodrama about a dyslexic little boy, his mentor, his parents, his classmates, his Sony Playstation, his pet alligator... -- is considered, till date, to be one of the most emotional tear-jerkers to hit the Indian screens. Such was the emotional impact of this movie, that the theatres screening this movie often had little puddles of human tears in their lobby-floors. ( Someone had told me that the puddles were genuine human tears- I had initially thought that it was dog urine). It was a common sight to see little boys jumping and splashing around in the puddles of tears and little girls trying to sail boats made of paper in them. Such was the impact. The scene inside the theatre was no better - it resembled a mass funeral- everybody was crying. Everyone, regardless of their gender, were going boo-hoo, sob-sob, waaaa, sniff sniff, mumme mumme etc, watching TZP :'-( Everyone except me that is. Sample the scene inside the theatre :

Protagonist (on screen) : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff *" :'-(

The other protagonist (on screen) : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff *" :'-(

Obese Aunty in red saree sitting next to me : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff * So sad" :'-(

Her equally hideous daughter in the next seat : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff *" :'-(

The old man in sweater : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff *" :'-(

Everybody else : "Boo hoo.. *Sob* Sob* ... * Sniff *" :'-(

Me : "Hey, why does this fucking popcorn have no salt? "

Get the point? That is my emotional sensitivity for you. So that's why I say that I have no authority to write on this subject per se. But since one of my primary pre-occupation is to sit and look around at people, I have, through the years, grown tiny invisible antennae on either sides of my head that senses and gauges the way men and women behave in general.

Men are logical, decisive and practical. Women are caring, nurturing and emotional. Ta da , Ta da , Ta daaaaaaa!!! That's the breaking news-cum-enlightenment bulletin of the day for you. OK troops let's move on. Well, as I said, that's how men and women are wired up. Like it or not, agree or disagree, and discounting a few exceptions here and there - men and women always fit the aforementioned stereotypes to the T. Now its none of my business to pass judgements as to which stereotype is better - I'd rather spend my time scratching my butt than enter a boring gender superiority debate. But what interests me is the way the sexes stick to their stereotypes in whatever they do. Its only when the Mr. Logical clashes with the Ms. Emotional, does the stadium come alive, spark off fireworks and gives jobless fuckers interested spectators like me something to write about.

Men can be logical and practical to the point of crass even during their rare attempts to touch upon emotive topics. Here is a sample of a one such conversation between a group of male friends:

Guy 1: "Hey dude, do you ever get sad for no reason and cry" ?

Guy 2 ( responding) : "Me, cry? Asshole what do you think? I am some sort of a sissy bed-wetter? "

Guy 3 : " Of course, you can be a sissy bed-wetter. Maybe you should buy Huggies diapers for yourself... "

Guy 4 : "...Or borrow your girlfriend's Whisper napkins"

Guy 1 : Muwahahahaha...

Guy 2 : Muwahahahaha....

Guy 3 : Muwahahahaha....

Guy 4 : Muwahahahaha...

Women on the other hand can be highly emotional even while discussing something as direct and logical as Mathematics.Here is a sample of a one such conversation between a group of female friends:

Girl 1 : OK, everybody 2 plus 2 is 4. I think I am sure... Umm.. yes, I am sure.

Girl 2 : Wow, really?

Girl 3 : Oh so sweet na....

Girl 4 : Yeah really sweet. 4 is such a lucky digit na? It can never be lonely because it always has two and two together.

Girl 1 : Awwwww...

Girl 2 : Awwwww...

Girl 3 : Awwwww...

Girl 4 : Awwwww...

Now, it's not that these behavioural stereotypes have been existing since, like, yesterday. Men and women have been the way that they are, since times immemorial. Why, the behavioral tendencies can be dated way back to the times of Adam and Eve. History tells us that Adam just couldn't stop being the logical being that he was - and Eve couldn't help being the nurturing soul that she used to be. ( I print my own history books and no I'm not gonna show them to you alright?) . Sparks used to fly whenever their personalities clashed. Here is a sample of one such conversation:

Eve: "Adam, sweetheart, here... have an apple"

Adam: "Naaa... I prefer jackfruit"

Eve: "Now where will I go searching for a jackfruit tree? Have the apple na, sweetheart... Its good for you"

Adam: "I'm sorry. I can't have that apple. There may be maggots inside it and its logical that I may fall ill"

Eve: "Do you want me to wash it? Or do you want to make apple-pie instead?"

---10 minutes of silence.... And then again,---

Eve: "Adam, sweetheart, here... have an apple"

Adam: "I told ya lady, I don't want the apple. I don't like apples. Period.D'ya hear that?"

Eve: "Ohh... you don't like apple ?"

Adam: "That is correct. I don't like apple"

Eve(sarcastically) : "Would you prefer an iPod then?"

Adam: "Wow... okay!!!"

Eve: #@$%*^@$

See? Natural behaviour differences between the genders. It's an obvious fact. Along the same lines, it's also a fact that a woman demands undivided attention, perennial love and unadulterated affection from her man all the time - whilst a man can be distracted with other things and may not be able to reciprocate as per her expectations. Even this behavioral tendency of the genders can be traced back to the times of Adam and Eve:

Eve: "Adam..."

Adam: "Yeah..?"

Eve: "You don't pay attention to me?"

Adam: "Of course I do, dear"

Eve: "You don't care for me?"

Adam: "Of course I do, dear"

Eve: "You don't love me?"

Adam: "Of course I do, dear"

Eve: "I don't believe you. Tell me, is there any other girl in your life?"

Adam: "Who else can be there? Muwahahahahaha"

Eve: *Hmmpffffff*

Another behaviour tendency of the sexes is that a man always looks for action with a fixed goal in his mind, while a woman is also goal-oriented, but in a slightly different, roundabout way. Ditto was the case with Adam and Eve:

Adam: "Eve, sweety, come lets go out hunting"

Eve: "But its cold outside..."

Adam: "I know dear, but we have to hunt down something to fill our stomachs. Besides, we are new to the planet and we gotta go out and explore..."

Eve: "So, we have to go out?"

Adam: "Yes"

Eve: "But I have nothing to wear... "

Adam : #$@*#$"

Since 'Nonsense Aplenty' is such a widely revered forum and has a social responsibility(muwahahahahaha... oops sorry, just couldn't contain the laugh here... tee hee) towards its readers, I would like to offer some of my two bit advice to the sexes. The intention of my unsolicited advice that's coming up, is to help the sexes understand each other a little better. Mind you,I am not here to re-write the law of sexes. I am only here to make fun and laugh hysterically provide analysis and offer food for thought. I don't expect gender behaviour to transform overnight. I don't expect an average woman to understand the vagaries of the off-side rule in soccer, or for an average man to know about the primary causes of post-menopausal depression. All I am hoping is that my advice can help the sexes co-exist with more happiness and less friction, and as Jackson said, make the world a better place.

So in that spirit, here is my advice to the men and women folk. ( I know my regulars readers will be having an evil grin on their face by now :-) . They know whats coming up. Of course, some of them also feel that my arguments are totally biased, my logic is completely skewed, and that I should quit blogging, switch over to agriculture and make love to bullocks. Well, maybe they are right - but lets take that debate to a later day. I have an important social responsibility right now) .

Advice for Men:

1) Avoid picking your nose while in the company of your girl, no matter how desperate the urge or how great the twitch. If you really have to, then politely ask her first "Sweetheart, could you please look away while I pick my nose? "

2) Please remember all the important dates and anniversaries. Never forget your girl's birthday. Have the Intel guys install an extra chip in your brain if you have to - but don't forget the dates. And keep assuring your partner that you remember her upcoming birthday. - "Hey sweety, your birthday is on 32nd March right? See I remember" .

3) Work on your romance. Work on your mush-talk. Learn to woo her, sing her romantic songs. If you are confident that your voice doesn't sound like a donkey on its deathbed braying out its last prayers - then congratulations you can consider yourself a singer. Well, the track "Jhoom Barabar Jhoom Sharabi" can be a good start- but its not exactly a very romantic song.

4) Take a bath once in a week, you idiots. A woman likes a man with good personal hygiene. Using a soap while bathing can be advantageous.

5) Never let your girl catch you ogling at other women's breasts. If you really have to ogle, then do it discreetly - but if she catches you, don't tell me that I didn't warn you of the consequences.

Advice for Women:

1) Never interrupt your man during a cricket/football/tennis/kabaddi/ludo match. Don't mouth lines like "Come honey lets go shopping for carpets,curtains,cutlery... " - when India is playing Australia and need 15 runs from 11 balls.

2) Please don't force your man to wear baby pink colored shirts/T-shirts. Even though there may be exceptions, a vast majority of men revolt against wearing pink. You may succeed in forcing your way and have him wear pink, but that will only leave him with a scowl on his face and end up making him feel like a cross between George Micheal and Elton John.

3) Please don't cry at anything and everything. I know, your crying ability is your ultimate weapon. It will bring any rigid man down on his knees and instantly wean him away from his trusted path of logic. But should you cry at everything girl? Cry sparingly, cry intelligently, and cry only when needed. Don't cry for stupid reasons like "Oh my pet grass-hopper died today" or mouth even stupider lines like "Boo hoo I myself don't know why I am crying- will let you know when I find out"

4) While it is your right to take your man out for shopping with you, but please hurry up with your shopping, finish things quickly and show some mercy on your poor man. I mean, please don't take half a millennium to shop for a pair of earrings. I can tell from personal experience. I went out shopping with this female friend of mine last week. I was crew cut and clean-shaved when I entered the shopping mall, and when I came out of it, I had hair that had grown up to my shoulders and a beard that extended till my torso.

Alrighty ladies and gentlemen. I hope the purpose of the post is met ( providing useless enlightenment that is) and I pray that less sparks will fly from now on. *Sigh* I know that I've got to be a really big jackass to hope like that.

Love,

Parry.

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Afterword by Dale Carnegie.

Parikshith Kumar had promised that he would pay me $100 for writing a foreword to his post. He is yet to pay and I have not seen him ever since. Could anyone please tell me where he lives? When I last called him up asking for my promised remuneration, he said "Jaa gaand marao bhutnike" and slammed the phone down. I know that was in Hindi, I couldn't understand it fully, but it certainly wasn't very gracious of him. Could someone please tell me where he stays. I need the money and I...

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Love Poetry on Valentine's Day





Today is Valentine's Day. Today is the day when love flows more freely than water out of a municipal tap. Today, couples around the globe express their unconditional love to each other.



As for me, the sworn singleton and the blissful Champion of Indifference, today was just to be another normal, no-fuss day. I had brought home some work from office and had been feverishly typing away on the laptop , getting a particularly stubborn piece of code to work. My style of coding is similar to a trainer trying to tame a dog. The trainer keeps yelling away "Sit doggie, stand doggie... Doggie, handshake" ... and the doggie casually looks away, wags
its tail, pees on the adjacent lamp-post and goes to sleep. Thats how code behaves with software engineers like me.

Knock-knock Knock-knock. The sudden knocking on the door rudely interrupted me from my coding pleasure. Knock-knock-knock. The knocking grew more incessant. Irritated, I put my laptop aside, went up to door, and opened it. At the door stood two strange men/creatures who looked something like this.




"Yes?" I asked quizzically. "Who do you want?"
No answer.
"I said what do you want, who are you?"

No answer again. I was beginning to get irritated.

"Are you a kabadiwala (guy who collects thrash) or something? Or are you here to sell credit-cards? " I asked, hoping to get some reply.

"My name is Valentine... Saint Valentine" said the old guy, slowly.

"Excuse me?" I blurted out. I thought I didn't hear properly. "Who did you say you were?"

"St. Valentine. " the old man repeated.

"St. Valentine, who?" I asked, unsure

"The man after whom Valentine's Day is named and celebrated. I am the man who made Feb 14 famous" said the old man. He had a confident air about himself that was impossible to miss.

" Ooooh... that Valentine" I exclaimed in surprise. " But err... would you still mind if I see some identification please?" I asked.

The old man whipped out his driver's license, a ration card and a voter's card. All bore his name & address - Mr. Saint Valentine, Rome, Italy.

"Wow, so nice to meet you Mr. err. St. Valentine" I said. " But I thought you were dead!?"

"Oh no, I am very much alive" the man said, shaking his head. "It's just that I was in hiding"

"Why?" I asked, unable to understand.

"Too much publicity" he remarked. "I dont like publicity one bit. If I show up too much, then Archies Gallery will start pestering me to be their brand ambassador"
"Oooohh... " I said, enlightened.

I then looked at the other creature next to him

"Who the heck is that, I mean what is that..... tooth fairy??" I asked, pointing at the creature

"That is Cupid" replied Valentine.

"Excuse me? What? Stupid...?"

"He is Cupid" said Valentine. " He is from Italy too... He is the Roman God of Love. A buddy of mine... we often hang out and have pizza together"

"God of Love, eh?... I see... That explains his wings. But what is he doing with a bow and arrow? Discarded from the national archery team or something? " I asked, unable to hide my sarcasm

"The bow and arrow... " explained St. Valentine "... is his symbol, his weapon. He uses the borrow and arrow to spread love"

"How?" I asked

" Nothing special. He just aims his bow and arrow at a person and shoots it to inspire and arouse erotic love in that person" said St. Valentine

"Erotic love? Ha ha ha ha ha ha. We have a fancy porn industry out here to arouse erotic love. Why does he want to keep shooting arrows at people?" I said, bursting into an uncontrollable laugh

"Not just erotic love, fool" said Valentine in a serious tone. " But even the simple, non-sex love too"

"Oh, I see... But pardon me, what's with his attire? I mean, why is he wearing a thong? Is he gay or something" I asked

"Shut up. Not another word against my friend. And no, he is not gay" replied St. Valentine

I kept silent. It had been a puzzling last ten minutes for me to speak more.

"Now aren't you going to let us in?" said Valentine, breaking the silence. "Or are we gonna do all the talking at the door" ?

I ushered them into my room, getting more puzzled by the minute. Being the ever-gracious Indian host, I even ordered some pizzas from Pizza-Hut to keep their Italian taste buds happy. In between all the munching and drinking , we shared interesting bits of conversations... some of which I am highlighting below.

St. Valentine: "Nice Pizza you guys have"
Me: " I am glad you liked it, Saint"
St. Valentine: "Yeah. The topping is fab. What's this thing, paneer, eh? Delicious"
Me: "Ummm... hmmm"
"So, Parikshith... do you know why the two of us are here at your apartment?"
"You never told me"
"We'll tell you. But first, do you realize what day is it today?"
"Yep. It's Feb 14th. Valentine's Day"
"Ahem! Do you realize what you should be doing on Valentine's Day?"
"Oh I am so sorry... Happy Birthday to you... Happy birthday to you.. Happy B'day dear Valent"
"Cut it, idiot. It's not my birthday today"
"Oh ok. What do you think I should be doing on this day, then?"
"Take a look around, young man. Look outside your window. You will find couples deeply in love and painting the town pink and red. There's love all around. There are roses, balloons and ribbons everywhere"
"Yeah. Even the garbage dump would smell of love today."
"And look at you. You are cooped up inside this room and working on that dumb computer project of yours. I mean, what is that stuff anyway.... Java? .Net? VC++ ?
"Neither. It is COBOL"
"Ha ha ha ha ha... COBOL? Ha ha ha ha... They still use COBOL? Ha ha ha ha. I mean, they've been using COBOL every since I was in my nappies... ha ha ha ha"
"Do not poke fun at my livelihood"
"Ha ha.. OK, I'm sorry. So the point is you are sitting locked inside your room on Feb 14th"
"What else do you want me to do? And why the hell are you guys here anyway?"
"Me and Cupid have come here to make you fall in love"
"What???!!!"
"Yes. We want you to fall in love. That is our mission of coming here"
"Are you serious?"
"What, you think we came half way across the globe to kid ourselves? Plus, we came by a British Airways flight. You realize how painful that is? They misplaced all our baggage. They had misplaced Cupid's bow-and-arrow too. But we were determined to come here and meet you"
"To make me fall in love?"
"Yes, to make you fall in love"

So it had come down to this. I had never believed or been in real love for the 25 years of my life and then one fine day, I find these two ambassadors of romance hell-bent on making me fall in love. Anyway, the conversation continued...

St. Valentine: "Do you feel no love, young man? Look into your heart and tell me what do you see?"
Me: "Arteries, veins, ventricles, auricles and lots of blood. If you want more details, then I need to have an endoscopy done."
St. Valentine: "Never mind. So tell me. Is there anyone you like? Anyone special you have in your sights?
Me: "Ummm... yeah... there is this girl. But no love-schmove. Heck, I have not even spoken to her. I see her everyday in the bus. She's pretty, she's got beautiful hair and this really big pair of err.... eyes. "
St. Valentine: "Perfect!"
Me: "Perfect, what?"
"She's gotta be the one for you, Parikshith."
"Heck no. There's nothing...I mean I dont love her or anything. "
"You leave that to us"
"Shit"
"Don't worry. Now lets see, how do you express your feeling. What special talent do you have?"
"I play excellent table-tennis. And I can eat noodles using 4 forks simultaneously"
"Shut up. Oh yes, I got it. You write decently. Why don't you write her a love poem?"
"Write her a love poem? Have you gone completely mad? "
"Not at all. Write her a beautiful, mushy, romantic love poem. Buy some tiny ,red heart-shaped cushions.... And a little teddy bear, lots of lovely chocolates. Gift wrap all of them together and give it to her"
"Err... wouldn't she gift-wrap her chappal to me in return? "
"No. She won't. Let us be optimistic. Now write the poem"
"Write a love poem.Yeah right. You think I am a mushy adolescent? I am frickin' 25 now"
"Why not? Why not think like an adolescent and let the love flow?"
"Adolescence was the time when I thought that the beauty of a girl was directly proportional to the size of her boobs and inversely proportional to the length of her skirt"
"Ha ha, you pervert. Don't you believe the same even now?"
"Oh no no... Not at all. I am all grown up now. I have learnt to respect women and all that..."
"Anyway, don't digress from the issue. Write the love poem"
"Damn you. Ok fine I'll write it. What next, you want me to do prior literature survey by reading Mills & Boons?
"Not needed. You have it in you to write."
"And who will convey my letter of love to her? Will you give it to her?"
"I am St. Valentine, for Christ's sake... not an American Express courier boy. But anyway, yours is a special case. So I will ask Cupid to hand over the letter to your girl"
"Ok. Wow. Thank you... I mean, I am honored that you've come all the way from North Pole to do this for me"
" I don't come from North Pole, you moron, Santa Claus does. Anyway you better start writing the poem now. If you waste one more minute, I will ask Cupid to shoot an arrow straight up your ass"

So now it had come down to this. I was supposed ( or rather threatened) to write romantic poetry straight from my heart to woo the girl. With a sigh, I stared penning the poem. I've tried my best and I believe I have put in true, warm and genuine feelings of love. I am sharing the poem that I wrote, with all of you. Have a look at it:

I sit here, putting words to paper
To express my love to thee
I don't know why the heck I'm doing it
When I could've downloaded e-cards for free.

Maybe I love your smile
Maybe I love your eyes
Or maybe it's your posterior
Or the lovely, shapely thighs

You lend a helping hand
You lead a caring life
When Mary had a little lamb,
Weren't you the midwife?

My heart is beaten to pulp
My soul smashed to smithereens
I shed tears for you
Sometimes aided by glycerine.

With me you stay, night and day
Joys will be plus, sorrows will be minus
I promise I'll keep trouble away
Just like Norton anti-virus

My pockets are empty
I so wish I could buy you a rose
But my horse just lost the Derby
At the darned, stupid race-course

My love will grow on you
Slowly into your heart I will encroach
I will cuddle up to you, I will snuggle up to you
Just like a cute little baby cockroach

You'll have my undivided attention
For you I will long, care and wait
But not today honey, the match is on
Oh darn! India is 134 for 8

Do you love me too?
Do you find me handsome?
Please say yes, please say yes
This gay archer has held me to ransom

Into the sunset let us walk
Letting out a carefree hum
Sing a song, both together
Dum-titi..... dum-titi...... Titi-titi-dum!



That is it. I had written my first ode to love. I held up the piece of paper and triumphantly handed it over to St. Valentine to get his feedback. He took one look at it, stared up Heavenwards, let out a yelping scream and fell down to the ground unconscious. I dont know whether it was due to de-hydration or if it had something to do with my poem. Anyway let me try to revive the Saint and find out. Meanwhile, on his behalf, I would like to wish everybody a "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY"

With Love, literally,

Parry.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Hit-wicket!!

Greetings!

This post is about cricket. No, not the the little green insect that goes chirpy -chirpy- cheep -cheep, but about the game. The Game...

Precautions:
1) Dosage: 1 paragraph at a time. Continuous reading of the post may cause violent behaviour (like wanting to kill the author)
2) Store the web page in a cool, dark, safe place, like err.. the junk mail folder.
3) If irritation and symptoms(like brain numbness) continue even a week after reading, please consult a physician or the local undertaker.
4) Keep out of the sight of children. I don't want little kids to be inspired by my writing and later ask me to author their school text-books.
5) If you like the game of cricket, then this post is recommended anyway. It will drive you so insane, that you may start finding even Duleep and Irani Trophy matches interesting.
6) If you don't like the game of cricket, even then the post is recommended for you. By the end of it, you'd wish that you had rather spent your time watching a game of cricket instead.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even if a space alien were to visit the Indian atmosphere, he/she/it would be overwhelmed by the following which the game of cricket gets in India. Visiting India and not recognizing the game of cricket is akin to going to Siberia and wondering if the white thing strewn all over the place is snow or salt. In a country, which presents a myriad, kaleidoscopic offering of people,cultures, religions and languages - cricket happens to be a single, unifying craze.

I was born a few months after Kapil Dev had held aloft the World Cup in 1983 , so unfortunately couldn't get to watch that epic Final match live in the stadium. My cricket crazy Dad was apparently hell-bent on naming me Kapil Dev, but relented only after my Mom dissuaded him from doing so. "What if he grows up to be a smuggler?" Mom is learnt to have asked Dad. "Would that name suit him then?" (I wonder how Parikshith Kumar would be a suitable name for a smuggler either, but then that is a different story.)

I too grew up with dreams of playing cricket for India. As a child, I too dreamt of adorning the Team India colors. Like any average teenaged boy in India, I too dreamt of playing cricket in front of packed-to-capacity crowds in large stadiums. I too dreamt of hitting big, huge sixes that would soar high into the skies, thud against Jupiter and fall back plonk down on the ground. I too dreamt of being a rich, sporting celebrity having endorsement deals worth millions of dollars and canoodling hot, smouldering babes, who were again worth a million dollars.
Unfortunately, many dreams go bust when you wake up and rub your eyes in the morning. My cricketing dream was also a similar one. I came to realize ( in my teens I think) that had it not been for my lack of skills in batting, bowling and fielding , I would have certainly made it to the Indian cricket team.

1) My batting: I had an elegant stance alright, and a stylish backlift to go with it. I used to execute my strokes with an almighty flourish of the bat. However, for all my panache and glory, whenever I hit a cover-drive or a square-cut, the ball never travelled a millimeter beyond silly-point fielder. So much for my ferocious hitting. Never the one to be coyed down, I switched over to bowling.

2) My bowling: I would've classified myself as an orthodox off-spinner. I had a classical high arm action, a decent wrist position, and a run-up to the crease that would have even had a Cheetah nodding its head in approval. Poetry in motion till now. However, there was a slight problem thereafter. Whenever I used to send down my off-spinners, the ball would always pitch two kilometers wide of the batsman. On either sides. And sometimes, my off-spinners would sail right over the batsman's head and land outside the opposite boundary rope. Just a tiddly little problem with my sense of direction, but the ball always spun as intended. I tried to reason with my coach, but he would hear none of it.

3) My fielding: My coach always made me field at the deep mid-wicket position. Not that I had a strong throwing arm or something, but he feared that my apathetic cricketing skills would spread to others like an infection. I still fielded in the deep with great fervor. However, there was one small problem. There was this all-girls school a few metres beyond the deep-midwicket boundary. Often in the middle of a match, when no one was watching, I used to quietly sneak out of the ground and visit the girls school. What do you expect? I was 16 years old, with freshly discovered hormones throbbing up and down inside me like curves of a sinusoidal wave. For all my effort, I did manage to befriend a pretty young girl from the school though. However, one day, my coach learnt about my escapade. When he came to know where the deep mid-wicket fielder had gone, he really blew a fuse. That was it... out of the team I went. I mean, do you believe that? I was debarred from cricket for bowling a maiden over!
I never had an opportunity to play competitive cricket after that. Unfortunately, studies took priority. But I should say that even though I was lacking in cricketing skills, I was never lacking in super- star quality and celebrity endorsements skills. What? You don't believe I have star endorsement power?! Let me dispel all your doubts, dear people. Make no mistake, I have the charm, sex appeal, stardom and celebrity endorsement power which would provide serious competition to the following Bollywood stars:



Tushar Kapoor and K.R.K (next to only S.R.K)..........


Johnny Lever................................... A.K Hangal

..... and these stars from the South Indian movie industry:
(T. Rajender, Jaggesh and Balakrishna )

.... and the following movie stars from the world of monkeys:


(James and Bond)



Well... what? You think there are no cinematic icons in the world of monkeys? Really? Then where do you think this one came from?
Sorry sorry.... I am digressing... This was a cricket post. So as I was saying, I couldn't make it to the Indian cricket team. But that hasn't stopped me from being one of the most fanatic followers of Indian and World cricket. I am not alone, there are millions of cricket fanatics spread across the length and breadth of the country.
I am sure many of you must have witnessed this craze first-hand. You may have also been a part of the craze. I am sure hundreds of marriages have broken down because the husband decided to stay at home and watch Bangladesh play Nicaragua rather than take wifey dear shopping. Also, millions of engineering students have flunked their University exams because they chose to watch a high-octane cricket series a week prior to their exams. You will meet people who wont remember what they had for breakfast, but would rattle off Sachin Tendulkar's statistics from an obscure series from the 1990's.
I am proud to be part of the cricket craze. The emotions it gives me and all other cricket fanatics can't be explained. I mean, I would have loved to explain, but India is playing SriLanka today. The match's about to commence and I gotta run to the television.
Will see you all later....
Until then,
With Love, Regards, Fours, and Sixes,
Parry.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The Conjunctive Saga

C-O-N-J-U-N-C-T-I-V-I-T-I-S.

O-P-H-T-H-A-L-M-O-L-O-G-I-S-T.


The two words were added rather unwelcomingly to my vocabulary today. It took some significant wrestling with the pages of dictionary to even get the spellings right. Ladies and Gentlemen, the dreaded conjunctivitis virus/bacteria (/protozoa/amoeba/bunked zoology classes in college to know more) - which had been doing a recce of the streets of Bangalore, has consumed its first high-profile victim... yours truly, the author of Nonsense Aplenty.


Conjunctivitis (red eye) is the inflammation of the conjunctiva ( a transparent lubricating mucous membrane that covers the eyeball and the under surface of the eyelid ) and commonly characterized by the redness of the eye. Indications and symptoms include frequent itching, irritation, and the ability to suddenly look like a drunk Bollywood movie villain from the 1980's - grotesque appearance with angry red eyes and everything. Actually, it occurred all too suddenly. I was riding away on the bike, with cool wind in my receding hair, and whoosh, I felt something in the eye. I guess the virus was waiting right up there in the atmosphere, with its trap laid out bare. And I must've got suckered straight into it. I don't know why the virus chose me, when it had millions of other jerks at its mercy. Maybe the bloody thing watched too many Hindi movies, heard too many mushy romantic songs and so in true Bollywood style, fell instantly in love with my eyes. A visit to the ophthalmologist confirmed the infection. So here I am, ladies and gentlemen, confined to my room like a caged porcupine, and forced to be bedridden like a drugged undertrial.



Anyway, I then interacted with/rang up few of my dear ones, to break the news of my recently acquired condition. Not surprisingly, it elicited a mixed bag of response, some of which I have sampled below. Fasten your seat belts, take an anti-histamine and read on:


Reaction #1 : Parents @ hometown:
"Conjunctivitis?!!! What? How? Which? When? Where? Why? . Did you show yourself to a doctor? What did the doctor say? What did the nurse say? What did the chemist say? What did the lab attendant say? What did the lift operator say? How are you feeling now? Are you better? Worse? Does it hurt? It is going to last for 3-4 days isn't it? Have u stared taking medicines? Eye drops? Which eye drops? Now who asked you to go out of your room and contract the virus? Couldn't you stay put in room? Take rest now. Keep washing your hands. Don't touch your eye. Don't you get out of your bed, young man. Did you have your food? Now go and sleep. Nothing doing. No office-woffice. And don't forget the medicines, will ya? "


Reaction#2 : The old landlady here in B'lore
"Oooooh... you coochie-coochie , sweetie-sweetie thing... Look at yourself , my dear.. You go to your room and take rest OK? I will send some badam milk upstairs. And by the way, you are yet to pay last month's rent and electricity bill... When the hell are you going to... But Ok ok ok... You don't strain yourself. I will send some snacks too.."

Reaction#3 : Roommates
"Oh shit... Oh fuck... Conjunctivitis? It is contagious right? Will we get it too? Will we get it now? Have we already got it? Is the virus on its way? OK, spray disinfectant, splash phenol... Hey you go take bath with pesticide... Keep your clothes and towels away. Would you remove your epidermal layer and store it away some place? And isn't that your underwear hanging on the door knob? Remove it from there. OK, buddy now relax... don't worry... lie down on the bed..Where are your eye drops? Here now, we'll apply it for you. Don't go outside. We'll get you dinner, what would you like? Close your eyes and be still. "

Reaction#4: Friends(Male)
"Conjunctivitis? Since when? Oh ok... No tension macha... Clean your eyes, wear goggles, take medicines. 3-4 days, that's all. Relax. Hey wanna join us for a movie over the weekend? Oops , sorry we forgot. But OK, its some rubbish mystery movie anyway...heard its not good, so you will not miss it. And we'll let you know what the climax was all about later. You take rest. Chal bye. "

Reaction# 5: Friends(Female)
"You got conjunctivitis? Reallyyyyy? No kidding haaan? Seriously? Since when? Oh dear, sooo sorry. Does it hurt? Has your eye become really very red? Did you show yourself to the doctor? How are you feeling now? Its OK... If you feel like sharing anything you can let us know. See for conjunctivitis naaaa... first you should clean your hands regularly. Use Dettol soap to wash your hands. And then naa you should wipe your hands with a soft towel. Don't keep touching your eyes. Take Ketogate eye drops, 4 times daily, hey... are you paying attention to me? What are you thinking about? Concentrate when I talk. You never listen. OK, then take your eye drops without fail, wear shades, don't try to be a stud or something. Just take rest in your room. Understand? Give a call if you feel lonely or want to talk about anything. Hey you know that girl Geeta from college? I met her yesterday.. Oh my God, she has put on so much weight... I don't know, and she was wearing this dress... such a yuckie color, and some tacky footwear... Eeshh.. God, how did she become so fat and you know what..... "

Reaction #6: Priest from the temple across the road
"What happened Son ? Red eye? Hey Ram ram ram ram. I think you should consider stepping into the temple at least once in a millennium ,Son...Ram ram ram ram. Anyway will offer special prayers for you in the evening. God bless you. Ram ram ram ram. "
(Note: The priest then offered me a bag of rock candy, flowers and smeared some vermilion on my forehead... none of which, to the best of my knowledge, are world-renowned cures for conjunctivitis. )

Reaction #7: My manager
" You want three days leave? Conjunctivitis? Hmmm... Can you work with one eye closed? You can't? How about working with both eyes closed? No no no.. I didn't mean you should fall asleep in your cubicle. Hmmm... OK... Three days then... Please ensure due diligence and see it to it that your productivity and deliverables are unaffected. Please ensure that you delegate your work queue as per existing business contingency plans.. Are you done unit testing all your modules? By the way who is this again? Parikshith?.... Parikshith who? You are in my team? Did you say we've met before? Let me think... Oh are you the fair, plump guy who always plays table tennis? The same guy who crashed that network server last week? OK now I remember you. OK, I'll see you after three days then. Good luck. I hope you will miss being part of this wonderfully productive workplace"

Reaction # 8: Colleagues/Teammates @ work
"Conjunctivitis? Ha ha ha... Serves you right , you bugger.. Looks like you had overworked your eyes, ogling at female breasts all day.... ha ha ha... particularly the babes from H.R. Ha ha ha ha... You've got three days leave? Cool, you lucky con! Enjoy. Nopes, not possible to take up your work... I cant understand your rubbish code one bit, dude... What, you think I am Albert Einstein's love child? No way, you take rest, enjoy your vacation and come back. We'll think about your code later. Take care of yourself. Will let you know if you are issued a pink slip.

Reaction#9: Friendly neighbourhood dog:
"Bow bow? Bow wow wow? Bow bow wow bow wow bow bow. Woof Woof"

Reaction #10: Best buddies
"Conjunctivitis? Ho ho ho ho ho... Hey d'ya hear that? The ass is down with conjunctivitis... Ha ha ha... So what do you expect us to do next? Collect sandalwood for your funeral pyre? Ha ha ha ha ha ha... Anyways fuck everything, and come over to our place. We'll make dinner for you too... and then we all can sit down and watch some porn together. You will be alright. Hell with conjunctivitis being contagious. We don't give a damn. Now are you coming here by yourself or do you want us to pick you up?"
--------------------------------------
Reactions, as you just witnessed ladies and gentlemen, have been coming thick and fast. I can say that I have well and truly been overwhelmed. But all I can do is to remain confined in my room, flutter eyelashes and shed crocodile tears. I hope to get better soon, so that I can get to my feet, and perform my self-imposed duty of writing blogs that aim to radically change the face of the world. Through 'Nonsense Aplenty', I know that I know I am on the right path:-)

With abundant love and conjunctive winks ;-)
Parry.


Sunday, January 18, 2009

Alternate Career Options for the Beleagured Techie.

I am a software engineer working in Bangalore.. Ta da!! Yep , again, I know this is not the kind of breaking news which would bring frenzied news vans screeching to a halt at my doorstep or have journalists tumbling over each other to thrust microphones up my nostrils. This is merely the plain vanilla fact of the day- I am a software engineer , who works with a leading MNC that pays you just about enough to eat three square meals every day and buy a new toothbrush every other month. Like me there are millions of techies here, swarming all over the place like moths attracted to the IT lantern. That is not unusual because out here, becoming a software engineer is not really difficult. To graduate as a software engineer ,
  • You have to bear 4 years in a trauma center learning engineering and in the bargain survive a minimum of 8 rounds of torture, writing imaginary stories in the examination hall.

  • If the stories you cooked up were really good, you are awarded with excellent grades and along with it a roll of honor certifying you as the 'Best Chef of the Semester'.

  • If you go on to acquire top grades, then you are eligible to let yourself get a dogmatic rubber stamp branded on your bums, that spells 'Tested OK, Distinction' .

  • All the mice with brandmarked posteriors get to stand first in line to be gobbled up by smiling Cheshire cats, disguised as 'Campus IT Recruiters'.

  • If you are tasty mice, then you are recruited. Congratulations and welcome aboard. You are a software pro.

  • Thank you sirs and ma'ms. Your life is now a soap opera.


That's it. Simple right? Now, I don't want to be seen as the latest applicant for the post of the village cynic ( considering that I was earmarked for the post of the village idiot) . So let me switch on the exhaust fans and clear the air about engineers being an unhappy lot. Make no mistake, software engineers are 'happy' staring at computer screens all day, smashing foreheads against their keyboards and occasionally singing love sonnets to their code compilers, cajoling it to get to work. When not sipping Cappuccinos, when not practising table tennis serves, when not reading tabloids, when not debating on the vital statistics of the new hottie in office , when not idling away time and blaming the world for it- we techies pride ourselves in creating some amazing technologies that change the face of the world.

All said, every now and then however, there is this momentary flicker of thought which flashes across many a techie's overworked minds. It is like an irritating buzzing fly which you want to swat immediately with the nearest available roll of newspaper, but cannot. The buzzing fly says "Hey am I being a moron, sitting here and slogging my ass off in this way to earn my crumbs of money? Or is there an easier, better, faster and fun way of earning bigger bucks" ? No matter how passionate the techie is about his/her work, he would have certainly met this buzzing fly at least once in his/her computing lifetime. Some of them would have ignored this fly, others would have swatted it and still others would have simply asked it to 'buzz off'. I met the buzzing fly today. So rather than chase it away, or let it fall inside my cup of Cappuccino, I decided to take a moment off and answer it. Earning more (or at least equal) bucks with lesser pain in the ass is the objective eh? So be it. After a discourse with my talkative conscience, I have arrived at the following alternate career options for the beleaguered IT soul. If you promise not to throw empty flower vases at me, I am willing to outline and share those alternate career options with you. Here you go:

1) Bank Robber: The de- facto profession for you to achieve the insta-rags to riches status. Designed, developed and tested extensively by our forefathers, this method would have been the easiest and quickest way of earning money without breaking much of a sweat. However, today we are reeling under a severe economic crunch. The banks would not have much money stashed away in their lockers to make a decent steal. So, this erstwhile method of earning money has unfortunately run of steam today. Heck! I'm sure the robbers are richer and well off than the banks these days. So with a heavy heart and profound reluctance, I would like to sidestep this profession and move on to option number 2.

2)Weatherman: Is there any other job in the world wherein you see your calculations go horrifically wrong more than half of the time and still get to hold on to your job with peanut-eating nonchalance? I mean you predict a bright sunny picnic day, then sit back and see your predictions being washed away by cats and dogs raining down from Heavens, and surprise surprise... your job is as safe as a Swiss Bank locker. If anyone ever approaches you and asks for an explanation about the climatic mood-swings, you can get away by telling him/her that the Earth didn't rotate properly last night and the orbit needs lubrication. I wonder what Six-sigma, CMMI and other bull-shitting quality-compliance models have to say about this one!

3)Cricket Umpire: To be an international cricket umpire , you should be a senile old man armed with a medical certificate that proves you to be legally blind in one eye and blissfully deaf in both the ears. Add to the list of symptoms, an allergy towards the cricket rule book and sudden attacks of amnesia upon hearing a chorus of 'Howzzzzaaaat' shouts. But don't let these poorly precedented specimens discourage you from achieving your goal. Go ahead and be a young, fit umpire. And when in doubt, show 'em the finger!



4)Film Critic: Ah this is my kind of job. Your employer pays you handsomely to park your ass in an air conditioned theatre, watch flicks and stuff yourself with caramel popcorn week after week. You then go on air and tell the world that the best part of the movie was the intermission. Next, you puncture a hole or two in the screenplay, suggest to the audience that the movie script can be used as tissue paper, and lament the fact that the heroine didn't show enough cleavage. Voila! your movie review is complete. Now would you hand over my fat paycheck and remove the fly out of my champagne glass please? Thank you.

5)Artist (specializing in modern art) : Pardon me ,oh art connoisseurs, for my blasphemous ridicule of Modern Art...but this is one arena whose existence I've always failed to decipher. I mean I fail to understand why people would care to fork out billions of dollars to buy something that looks like a two-year old's first crayon scribbling? Without waiting for replies, I have ready started my career as a modern artist. To start with, yesterday I bought two whole cans of Asian Paints emulsifiers and with one toss, splashed them over a white canvas. To my artistic eye, my classic debut painting looks like two amorous amoebas having sex with each other. Depending on the price its going to fetch, I will decide upon a suitable title. You are welcome to start bidding immediately.

My room is a modern art gallery beyond compare. For example, I have a bedroom wall with entrails of recently squashed mosquitoes postered all over. It is a work of beauty. Due to lack of time, I couldn't reproduce this work on canvas. If any modern artist is interested, he/she is welcome to contact me and we'll haggle over the price, royalty and the sponsorship of mosquito repellents.

OK, people, I need to run back to my pigeon-hole... err I mean the cubicle to complete some coding and unit testing. I am happy that I have shared with you my conversations with the buzzing fly:-) As I near the end my rant session, I would like to leave you with the true, famous lines by the great poet Robert Frost to motivate you all :

"The woods are lovely, treacherous, dark and deep...

I have got promises and project deliveries to keep...

I have got lines to code before I sleep...

I have got miles to go before I sleep...

Doesn't matter 'coz I've got insomnia anyway, you creep... "

Love and Best Wishes,

Parry.


Saturday, January 10, 2009

Energy & Natural Resources Conservation Tips for Bachelors.

The story so far:

A brilliant, charismatic high school student with oodles of passion towards Science, finds his customized enthusiasm towards 'Energy & Natural Resource Conservation' sniggered at and scorned by teachers, scholars, ducks and dinosaurs alike. Undeterred, he returns years later, to broadcast his unsolicited opinion on his pet topic to innocent people. The abstruse story now continues... (To read the complete & interesting background from my previous post, click here )



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Greetings, Dear Earthlings


I am back. As promised in my previous post, I am here to present to you the spellbinding , Nobel deserving article called ' Energy and Natural Resource Conservation Tips for Bachelors' . Many eyebrows were raised when I chose bachelors as a target audience for this mundane scientific topic. Why bachelors? Well why not. Bachelors (being one myself) , are arguably one of the finest specimens of homo-sapiens ever created. With their hearts at the right place and hands scratching the wrong places and with their simple, minimalistic but amazingly functional lifestyle... bachelors would make one hell of a case study. Bachelors are an endangered species... they are endangered because they become extinct when they get married. Therefore, without losing much time, they are in need of a messiah like me to enlighten them on the importance of Energy and Natural resources conservation. Ok, without any more ado, here are the much coveted tips for the bachelor brethren all over the world. I hope this will bring an increased degree of efficiency in their day-to-day chores :



1) Conserve Water

a) Efficient use of shirts and trousers: Do not hesitate to wear the same shirt/trouser thrice or four times before the next round of wash. If a colleague at work points out a stain on your garment due to its repeated use, you can easily get away by blaming the Government!!. Here's how:


Your friend: " Hi, dude... you've got a stain on your shirt"

You : " Huh? A stain? Where? "

Your friend: " Right there, at the back of the shirt, just below the collar. Yeah, there"

You (feign surprise) : " Oh no... Man, I had just freshly washed and ironed this shirt only today. Damn, this stain! Now how did it happen? I think it happened while travelling to office this morning...

Your friend : " Oh....... "

You: " I think it happened while coming up the elevator. Or, I guess this must have happened while travelling in the crowded bus today morning. Don't know how. You see this bloody morning crowd and rush........


That's it... The tone for your rhetoric has been set. Go on and blame the crowd, blame the traffic , blame the system, blame the Government. By the end of it , your friend would have forgotten that he had pointed out a stain in the first place!


b) Efficient use of socks: The same pair of socks can be used for two days consecutively without any fear or worry of causing plague at your workplace. Then, you turn them inside out, strategically spray deodorant on them and wear it on two more occasions. To be more efficient, consider wearing only one sock at a time. People, as they claim themselves, are so busy running the rat race these days, that they don't even have the time to look up at your faces and utter a word of Hello. Heck, they don't have the time to even smile at you. Then, why do you think would they care to look at your feet and bother to count the number of socks you are wearing? In the rare case that someone does count and point out, calmly tell them it is the fashion trend of the season - the latest haute couture straight out of the Milan Fashion Week.


c) Efficient usage of bed sheets: After six months, turn your bedsheets inside out and continue using for the rest of the year. What’s the point of washing them regularly anyway? You’ll always be fast asleep on your sheet and wont be in your senses to decide if its clean or unclean.


d) Always buy jeans that are black or dark blue. You can play Kabaddi in them during weekends and still wear them to work next day. Wash them only during the monsoon. ( Wear your jeans, lay face down on the road during heavy rainfall and stick your bum out. That should take care of the wash)


e) The natural ground-water levels have been receding with alarming pace and would continue to diminish further unless we have a remedial action implemented in place. So when thirsty, drink beer. Three cheers for water conservation. Hic! Hic! Huray.

2) Conserve Fuel

a) Conserve LPG: Avoid using LPG to cook your Maggi Noodles. Instead, use boiled water from your geyser to cook noodles. You pay an extra 200 rupees every month as electricity charges to your useless landlord anyway, so why not make full use of it? Make no mistake, it is important to conserve electricity also ( I will come to this in a minute) . However, using boiled water from your geyser to cook noodles should provide you with ample motivation to take a bath everyday. Therein lies the advantage. Remember: No bath for the day = No boiling hot water for the day = No cooking noodles and you go hungry for the day. Marvellous, isn't it? :-)

b) Conserve Petrol: The next time your girlfriend asks you to take her shopping, tell her that you’ve watched Aamir Khan's Ghajini (or Christopher Nolan's 'Memento') and the contagious short-term memory loss has been passed on to you through the movie screen. Tell her that you've now forgotten how the gear shift pattern of your bike works and so she will have to ride the bike herself thru rush-hour traffic if she wants to. (even if it is a Pulsar 250 CC) . If she says no, yell out ‘ Hurray’ and go walking hand-in-hand with her. Fuel conserved. Romance observed.

d) Use the word ‘bullshit’ with respect. Please remember that it can be a useful source of renewable energy ( As in gobar gas plants/bio gas plants) . Of course, if you feel that my blog is bullshit, then it is a different case altogether.

e) Consider the option of car-pooling while traveling to and from work. If your meager salary doesn’t allow you to buy a car, then don’t be disheartened – use a bullock cart as your transport. The advantages of traveling to office by a bullock cart are two pronged.- 1) It saves petrol 2) Since the bull is now your chauffeur, all the bullshit accrued from the length of the journey can be used as a renewable source of energy.


3) Conserve Power:
It is important to be abstemious in our consumption of electricity. The following tips, are thus in order:

a) Turn off the lights: Switching off lights when not in use is an important must-do item on any energy conserver's list. Remember to draw inspiration from pop-star Nelly Furtado's hit song 'Turn off the light'. The lyrics go something like:

"They say that girl ya know she act too tough tough tough

Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
They say that girl you know she act so rough rough rough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light"....


Do you think the pop-star was highlighting foreplay, seduction or any other related naughty activity in her song? Heck no, she was hinting at energy conservation!


b) Fans & AC's: If you think you are naturally cool, then you don't need to use fans or AC's.

c) Turn off monitors: At work, turn off your PC monitors while not in use. Preferably, keep them turned off all day. If your manager or supervisor points out that you are doing no work, then plainly tell him/her that you are doing a service to the planet by conserving energy. Then go to your manager’s desk , and switch off his/her monitor too. Spread awareness.

The benefits of energy conservation doesn't end here, my dear bachelors. In fact, gigabytes after gigabytes can be written and documented about this noble cause. For example, you can save paper by bringing home all your useless project documents from work and using them as tissue papers. You can plant trees to ensure that romantic couples from your next generation could steal private, intimate moments hiding behind them.

Therefore, my dear men, arise! , awake! , save! , conserve! . The time to start is n*o*w.

My Best Wishes are always with you. You will certainly need it :-)

Parry.