Aftermath of Shoegate

Journalist Jarnail Singh has finally done it which others have not dared to do in India or in the sub-continent so far. His lobbing a size eight Reebok shoe on the Home Minister P Chidambaram in protest against the clean-chit given to 1984 sikh riot accused Jagdish Tytler has made him an instant hero (like instant noodles) and also made him richer by Rs 2 lakhs (not to mention the great escape, thanks to Chidambaram's magnanimity or I should say political backlash in the times of Lok sabha elections).

Well, all that may be old news, there are certain exclusive earthshaking and trendsetting news at our hands which we would like to share.

1. Jarnail's audacious shoe lobbing has bagged him a two year contract with shoe maker Reebok as their official brand ambassador, removing Yuvraj Singh.

2. Looking at his heroic and celebrity stature after the shoe-gate (like slap-gate) incident, Sony television has decided to come up with a reality show where participants would be judged on their accuracy or their shoe-throwing ability since all the perpetrators of the act worldwide have so far missed their respective target.

3. Considering at the prospect of making their kids instant celebrities, parents in every household are persuading their wards to leave the ball (football, volleyball, tennis ball, ping pong ball and all sort of balls) and take to shoe and are asking them to practice the act at home, day in and day out, so that they can win the reality contest instantly once they are aired on primetime.

4. Also it has been learnt that all the stalwarts of the tinsel town are making a beeline outside Jarnail's house, to cast him as a lead actor in the film with the name, 'Shoeman millionaire'. It would be one of the high budget movies and many actors are already wooing the role, including Irfan Khan, who according to reports, has left the steeplechase role and is practising the shoe hurling act, to bag the role.

5. However, there are some business houses who are seriously looking at the act as a deviation from the normal usage of the shoe and so are considering to come up with a statutory warning in the shoe, reading, "Please use it for wearing only. Hurling,
lobbing or any kind of pyrotechnics with it can be harmful to health."





Note: The post should be taken in good spirit and in good humour and not as an activistic way of freedom of expression.

Slumdog mania

Slumdog! Slumdog!
Where have you been?
I had been to the Oscars to pick up the queen

Slumdog! Slumdog!
What did u find there?
I found some white monkeys, sauve and fair

Slumdog! Slumdog!
How do u feel?
I look at the Oscars n think its a good deal

Slumdog! Slumdog!
Now what will u do?
Next time i will offer them my bedroom n loo

Slumdog! Slumdog!
Do u want to make a film?
ya, i want to make 'white monkey's bollywood dream'.

How a Journo would have written SHOLAY

Ever thought what if Javed Akhtar and Salim Khan, who wrote 'Sholay' had been Journalists? Well, have a look.

1. 'Jai' was killed, while 'Veeru' suffered minor injuries before physically challenged 'Thakur' overpowered 'Gabbar' and handed him over to police to avenge his family members death and help the people of Ramgarh live in peace.

2. 'Jai' fought his heart out but couldn't escape his death as 'Veeru' and handless 'Thakur' battered 'Gabbar' before handing him over to the police and absolve the people of Ramgarh from the dacoit's menace.

3. Police has finally arrested 'Gabbar' from the hilly terrians of Ramgarh after 'Jai' and 'Veeru', helped by handless 'Thakur' brought his downfall here today.

4. Ferocious dacoit Gabbar Singh, who had escaped from the jail, was arrested from the hills of Ramgarh today after Jai, Veeru and Thakur brought his downfall.

5. Radha's dreams of marrying again came crashing today after 'Jai' was killed by Gabbar Singh's gang in a shoot out, which culminated into the dacoit's arrest, thanks a timely intervention by 'Veeru' and handless 'Gabbar'.

CUPID ON THE RUN

Floating in the labyrinth, they passed their days, speaking their mind with no fear, shootings arrows in the sky, hoping they strike all and sundry, transforming men into Adams and women into Eves.

Cut to 2009. They are on a chase. Running frantically through the green meadows of gardens and parks, the swanky hotels and motels and even through the schools and colleges. They are on a run, sneaking through the skinny alleys, searching a place to hide.

.............
.............
.............
Jai ho Indian culture
Jai ho Indian tradition
Jai ho in the name of Ram
Jai ho in the name of Allah
Jai ho in the name of Jesus
Jai ho in the name of all 36,0000 Gods
.....
.....
.....
JAI HO

GIBBERING all the way

Its kind of weird but ever since my birth I always had a feeling that I was suffering from a strange disease and it was only after I watched 'Taare Zamein par' that slowly I had a hunch that may be I was a patient of dyslexia.

Often in my school days and even during my graduations I had problems tying my shoe laces, deciding which way to comb my hair, fumbling with the tooth paste cork, which escalated to a hell lot of things with time.

For the last few years i have realised that attimes i even say things which apparently always end up jumbling together, they just don't make sense, as if they have turned rebel or have taken a pledge of not supporting each other, they become hellbent to turn gibberish. But i have found out a way of dealing them -- i willfully allow them the liberty to turn gibberish, almost ignoring them to the etent that just cease to exist. although i have some limited success with the idea but it has its fall out too as after sometime i find myself all alone, speaking to myself or people wincing at him.

These symptoms doesn't seem to end and oflate it has also drawn a lot of flak and criticism with many people even giving me the tag of a 'bejha fry'(brain-roaster) especially when my words rebel in friendly get-togethers like b'day parties or marriage anniversities.

One more thing which has started troubling me is few days back is that I have developed this habit of stretching a simple sentence into a long sentence and attimes even to a collection of sentences. Once while returning home from office from one of my regular night shifts, I wanted to ask one of my friend to give me a treat but instead of putting it simply, i ended up giving me a description of the mode of communication, the importance of frequent treats and its side affects. By the time i ended what i wanted to say, the poor guy had already lost it and perhaps fearing as what would be my next attempt he didnt even give me the chance to come again and started conversing with someone else.

I have also developed an anomaly of using adjectives and bestowing people with so much praise as attimes it goes over the top and instead of being impressed, it leaves them frowing. I have tried to control it but the more i try the more it seems to slip out of my fingers.

So fed up with this strange disease of mine i have decided to cut short my conversations and deal in just gestures and postures but even that didnt help as some of my female collegues (even men after 'Dostana') raised objections about my body language. They accused me of provocation and attimes using wrong fingers to convey messages.

Once while trying to tell one of my collgue that i will pick her up at 1 o clock, i used my middle finger instead of my index finger and she got a wrong message, she has stopped talking to me soon after that. So being depressed and depleted with the things happening with me and around me, i decided to come to you , make some net friends -- becuase i know there would be atleast some poeple woho would be interested to talk to me here.

-- So, will you be magnanimous enough to spare a few of ur golden, precious and treasurous moments of life with this lonesome lonely friend?

An afternoon in blueline

In a lazy afternoon, when you have barely anything to do and a long journey ahead (even small distance seems long then) and that too in a blueline bus, crowded by all kinds of people who give u a why-don't-u-get-down look as you manage to grab a seat, you don't have any other option but to look outside the window pane.

These 'gentlemen and not so gentlemen' passengers have one thing in common -- they all have their eyes set on those all important seats in the bus, which they envy alike. Often it that pursuit they even try to elbow each other and shove across to grab their space, placing themselves tactically in front of the seats, grabing with both hands the handles of the seats, making sure no one else gets their ass on those seats and attimes that wait stretches beyond the span of one's journey.

With all these happening all around, what you can do apart from turning deaf and blind after all you too want that piece of wood for your bisected piece of flesh. So you shun all morals and ethics and follow your heart and get lost in the humdrum and
cacapony of the world outside the window, only to face another challenge -- keeping your eyes open.

The otherwise monstrous-looking blueline, which lives upto its reputation whenever it touches down the roads of Delhi, spreading its menace in all and sundry, all of a sudden will look like a tortoise which has lost its way. Moving languidly with an amazing irregularity it will stop at all stops, attimes making its own stops where there are none, as you wait for the ordeal to be over.

You inhale the carbonmonoxide and suspended particulars along with oxygen, look at the hungry faces of the roadside kids selling pens if not begging, scan through the rush of an ever-burgeoning crowd at the redlights, the mannequin-like souls standing on the divider, waiting for the vrooming vehicles to pass to cross the road, the birds and scavengers scrambling the litter left outside the VIP mansions, the begger having a nap with his head on his sack, rustic souls enjoying the sun along with the dog lying side-by-side as you get lost in a reverie......

When you open your eyes, you find yourself amidst a new set of 'gentlemen and not so gentlemen' passengers but equally hungry for that seat that you have been occupying for so long and before you could realise what had happened to you, you see your bus
stop nearing and infront of you a pool of humans. Soon you too join the party and indulge in some ignobly act, hostling and shoving your way through the crowd, out of the bus, mumbling to yourself of never boarding a bus again, only to ride it again in the evening on your way back.

A week spent in Ahmedabad

Until last week, I have been living my life within a radius of 15 kms, which included my two crammed room--I call it my apartment--, my office and some of the posh shopping areas and theatres where I flocked around during my off days or leisure hours, ofcourse if I was not lumbering in my bed. So when I got a chance to fly to Ahmedabad for a week -- my first outstation assignment -- I was pretty excited because one it was the first time I was moving out of the confines of Delhi
and secondly it gave me the opportunity to cover and interact with some of the international cricketers whom I adored since my childhood.

The first purpose was served, the second was a heart-break though. Anyways that's a different story. It was not the sort of vacation which i was looking for but i had no qualms because it wasn't a vacation after all. The ideal outing would have been
off to a solitude place in some corner of India, with all connections cut off from the outer world, no cell phones, no internet connection and no extra luggages. The only companian -- your silence. However, this outing wasn't bad either.

I had some apprehensions about the place i would be staying, the food and the people especially because the city had its past maligned by incidents of religious violence. I also was little nervous about the sort of work I would have to put in to live up to the expectations of my boss, since I was knew to the organisation.

I reached the city within 2 o clock and was off to my hotel, Lemon Tree. It was started from last month only and I bet it was beautiful. I had never stayed in a five star hotel before and it was a nice little experience for me. Initially I even didnt know what to order for diner and lunch as i wasn't aware of the different dishes that were written in the menu but as time passed by I eventually grew in confidence and managed it pretty well at the end i should say.

The first impression that i had once I landed here was that it was a good clean city with nicely pitched roads and a smooth traffic, ofcourse compared to the overcrowed roads of the capital. There was this esssence of a entirely different flavour, in terms of the language they spoke, the way they looked and the way they behaved.
people were honest and helpful, they spoke with utter respect which was missing in a place like Delhi. They were soft and approacable.

I remember during one of my trips to a place of visit, an autorickshaw driver returned me a Rs 10 note because the meter showed it was Rs 30, whereas before embarking on his auto, he had asked Rs 40 from me. This was a simple gesture but
it reflected the general psychology and integrity of the denizens of this city.


The city did not have the pictureque scenery of Meghalaya or the simmering lakes of Kerela or the glittering sands of Rajasthan but it had a unique culture and a lifestyle of its own. There were not much places to visit as the city was adorned
with shopping malls with a few temples and historical places thrown here and there. But because of my hectic schedule I could not manage to visit these places, apart from a couple of visits, which included 'Sabarmati Ashram', where Mahatma Gandhi
resided and ISkCON temple.

While Sarabmati was a beautiful experience as it gave me a lot of opportunities to test my photographic skills, apart from walking down the memory lanes of the past, ISKCON was a disaster as it was no were near the one that was installed in Delhi.


But apart from visiting these places, one thing that stood out in my eyes was the traditional cuisines of these place. Adorned with a slew of resturants and eateries in every nook and corner of the city, Ahmedabad seemed to be a perfect place for
the foodies and gourmets. Although, I could not taste all the sumptuous dishes that the city provides, I did taste the traditional Gujrati thali and that too at one of the best restuarant, 'Gordhan thal', located in Sarkhej-Gandhinagar highway.

This restuarant has a history of its own and is considered to be a must place for the gourmet, who want to have a taste of Ahmedabad. Adorned with some traditional Rajasthani interiors, traditional swords and equipments hanging on the walls, this
place gives an idea of the history of the place.

There was also a Law Garden, which I could not make because it opens only in the evening and I had my evenings occupied because of my assignments. There is also a Khau Gali in the area which is hotspot for the foodies churning out street food
delicacies.

I also wanted to visit the original Aksardham temple but could not squeeze in the time. The ICL matches were getting interesting and important with each day, leaving me with much less time. Soon one week elapsed and it was time for us to leave. The third final was over on Sunday night and we had to leave early morning the next day.

On the morning, as we left for the airports, my insomniac eyes tried to take in as much as possible as I breathed in with a promise to come back once again.