tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-189926022024-03-08T00:06:01.565+05:30Jay's oeuvreA bit of jazz in blog, however, falls tremendously short of being a musicalJAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-9138728239587493472009-11-22T14:08:00.001+05:302009-11-22T14:13:34.651+05:30Blog shift: The Milkman has a new Address<div style="text-align: justify;">The new address for my blog is http://thejaywalk.blogspot.com/ and its called <a href="http://thejaywalk.blogspot.com/">"The Jaywalk"</a>.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The obvious difference is that now it has a much simpler name and URL. The peeping pseudo-intellectualism with the complicated name, has been put to rest.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yeah! I also have a new template -- which I intend to keep fiddling with. over next two months or show. I have exported all my previous posts to the new blog. Relief !!<i> ***If I were an effervescent teenager now - I would have said "that is kickass cool!"***</i><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Those, who wanna know the simple steps to shift the blog can look in here >><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.google.com/support/blogger/bin/answer.py?hl=en&answer=97416">"How does she change her dad"</a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-23345228182384189092009-08-26T21:13:00.026+05:302009-09-03T01:20:49.168+05:30The Game Theory<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">genre:</span> semi fiction<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">ratings:</span> <img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/thumb_up.gif" alt="thumb" title="thumb" height="15" width="15" /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/thumb_up.gif" alt="thumb" title="thumb" height="15" width="15" /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/thumb_up.gif" alt="thumb" title="thumb" height="15" width="15" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">disclaimer:</span> This is hardcore and meant to seduce a gamer; for others - about a decade back two nerds gave the world something called "google".<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The tension between them was palpable. Silence, prevailed for a while, before he lowered his defenses, tamed his voice, tried to stretch his lips and murmured on the phone,"Sorry yaar ! Ab bola na sorry. I had a presentation to complete last night and that's why I couldn't talk. You know recession, we just can't afford to avoid work!". He looked at The Cross hanging on the wall, constricted his eyebrows, and fluttered his lips silently as if he was trying to say ,"last lie" - and then, he winked. Ever since he has played the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_mythology"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Age of Mythology</span></a>, he thinks appeasement of God is as easy as a click on the mouse. Yesterday's aggressive <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atilla_the_Hun"><b>Atilla the Hun</b></a> - was a more submissive one today, in front of The Queen. He had always used his sweet innocent voice like those piercing arrows of a <span style="font-style: italic;">brit longbowman</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">chinese chunokus</span> to pierce the fortified walls of hers.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was not just a silence from the other end of the phone but a genuine cultural tension between M of a male kind and F of a female kind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">F on the other hand knew it was a <span style="font-weight: bold;">Trojan Horse</span> (.. not in that exact term though, yeah! she called it "fake"). </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"So, did you lose or win?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Lost.. no!... I mean in what?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_empire">Age Of Empire</a>... again.. what else!!" and angrily, she tightly clutched the pen lying in front of her. She disconnected the phone and hugged the pillow instead. She always wanted her Knight in the shining armour but not literally <img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_rolleyes.gif" alt="rolleyes" title="rolleyes" height="15" width="15" />. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"darn.. what a turn off!" he looked at the phone in surprise, "Wasn't the <span style="font-style: italic;">Paladin</span> from the imperial age happened to be as charming as one gets!!"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Understanding <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Mills and Boons</span> philosophy had always presented a great dichotomy in our population. The M of a male kind always thought dark of the "the tall, dark and handsome guy" refers to the color and hence, an Indian male fits the bill (**coughs**).<br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He rushed back to the mates waiting in the hall, with their eyes glued to the computer screen. An year after college, they were hanging out over a 3 day weekend at M's place.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Dude! you know.. women in the right side of 30 (your spouse or girlfriend) or on the wrong side of 30 (your elder sister or mother) - have never understood why a guy would ignore others for a video game or for that matter a cricket match."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He picked up his beer can and said, "Warriors!! next game - Continental against the Spanish in hardest and fast mode"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Everyone joined the rhetoric and said, "yay!!"</div><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/tag_blue.gif" alt="tag" title="tag" height="15" width="15" /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Post script from the friendly neighborhood:</span><br /><br />Age of the Empire is a popular real time strategy (RTS) game published by Microsoft involving various civilizations and historical events. Well... it's bloody addictive.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7cf_BwGeCEN1aFKqBmc4zZQGa4rQPXPNRIa2c1ixPIV1zXtMID89C_EzraKyNOlM02bIaqtUG1LMuq7AFQZ8W9mcCBWwM7nxukgzgQYMo2FbudW_3mJCAHxKsXkhpyKGEuSAFw/s400-h/untitled.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 660px; height: 504px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7cf_BwGeCEN1aFKqBmc4zZQGa4rQPXPNRIa2c1ixPIV1zXtMID89C_EzraKyNOlM02bIaqtUG1LMuq7AFQZ8W9mcCBWwM7nxukgzgQYMo2FbudW_3mJCAHxKsXkhpyKGEuSAFw/s1600/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376952326503966274" border="0" /></a>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-84385648938488704152009-04-05T03:25:00.003+05:302009-09-02T19:04:03.253+05:30JaybertJaybert is from Elbonia. Elbonia is a little known fourth world town in the communist Bengal. Elbonia has been famous only because long back a large cache of arms was dropped in its mainland to fight the mindless rule of Communists. However, all the hopes of a great renaissance died when the mighty people of Elbonia decided to use the rocket launchers to tie their cows.<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Jaybert has been working in a city in the heart of the communists, disguised as a supply chain expert. Secretly, he works with the brotherhood to overturn the communists one day.<br /><br />Just about two years ago, Jaybert had joined as a fresh and young graduate in an organization, and worked hard to expand the Supply Chain Operations. He expanded the operations for entire 2 years. He accumulated some net +ve accolades (summation of all the brickbats and accolades). Today, Jaybert has just executed a plan to reduce the warehouse area and make all the processes lean.<br /><blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkvUiEpnImLt0a1G-GxY5GTVOXxrXRM-22yahB1IcgkSR6y7lSCYzG6hr2cBbfUrgdDnhad4vs14MzrqgW7tpad2fmmND5gnr6VyYsZh-Xt26nv5bdvuQKUcRq0LDJ8PyTQdCgQ/s1600-h/2nd+file+for+jayz+oeuvre.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkvUiEpnImLt0a1G-GxY5GTVOXxrXRM-22yahB1IcgkSR6y7lSCYzG6hr2cBbfUrgdDnhad4vs14MzrqgW7tpad2fmmND5gnr6VyYsZh-Xt26nv5bdvuQKUcRq0LDJ8PyTQdCgQ/s320/2nd+file+for+jayz+oeuvre.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321112773900219202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy ha</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">ire</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">d Boss</span> - What next?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert</span> - Do I go beyond and open more warehouses?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - Please, feel free to do so as long as you don't ask for cash.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert</span> - No Cash!!... ummm.. do I get a permission to go and try to win one of those reality TV competitions. This will get us cash, keep me busy for a few months and no one has to know.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - What are the odds?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert </span>- Let's say, If I compete as a transvestite with a big rack, in a show called <span style="font-style: italic;">Dancing Queen,</span> I can at least reach the semis without a fight. The other option is to enroll into <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Boss</span>, where the probablity to win the event is high even if someone lacks talent.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - That's TV jazz and is risky too. I would need money to fix you to win the competition.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert</span> - What do I do then? I don't have work. Are you gonna fire me?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - Not really. I already got <span style="font-style: italic;">Catbert</span> to fire your other colleagues. Who do I boss around? Besides you are too cute to let go.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Someone poking the </span><span style="font-style: italic;">"pitchspoon" </span><img style="font-style: italic;" class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_twisted.gif" alt="twisted" title="twisted" width="15" height="15" /><span style="font-style: italic;"> into Jaybert's sordid posterior, by now, goes unnoticed.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert</span> - hmm.. What should I do?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - There is one guy eligible to ask questions here and that's not you. Besides I pay you to think.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jaybert</span> - I can do one thing. There were two warehouses I built last year. I can destroy them now. It will take about 6 months and then, we can rebuild it ,which will take another 6 months. So, we get busy for the entire year.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pointy haired Boss</span> - great! I like it.<br />While you do it, keep some reasons ready for justification of your actions.<br /></blockquote>(Apologies to hard core ADAM SCOTT fans, for the shortcomings in the above piece especially the lingo)<br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-88408911694397944572008-11-11T18:14:00.005+05:302008-11-30T00:40:37.851+05:30MTV youth Icon of the Year<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mtvyouthicon.in.com/media/userphoto/kaushal_kumar_135x180_135x180.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 180px;" src="http://mtvyouthicon.in.com/media/userphoto/kaushal_kumar_135x180_135x180.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Check out this >> <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://mtvyouthicon.in.com/media/userphoto/kaushal_kumar_135x180_135x180.jpg">Lotsa Lota!</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">SMS Icon<space> <space> KK and send it to 56882</space></space></span> and vote for <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Kaushalendra</span><br /><br />You do feel proud to be associated with such a person. So many of his batchmates like me, got lured by corporates - He decided against it. He has started <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Samriddhi"</span> - which delivers vegetables to the customers in association with vendors and farmers. He has involved every stakeholder in the entire value chain. Foremost he decided to go back to his roots - in Bihar - and pull it off.JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-65468847065709616232008-09-21T10:05:00.018+05:302009-07-30T00:05:52.414+05:30The Bear Hug: Signs of Economic Downturn<div style="text-align: justify;">I was fresh out of college armed with a MBA, and was lodged in a plush Mumbai Hotel for the induction into a conglomerate. I had a room partner - <span>Aditya, he was a Kannadiga (IIT + IT sector + overseas stint + MBA).</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> He typified a generation of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Super Techies</span>, bred under the carpet revolution which has swept the nation in the past decade. </span><span>The IT sector in India has been growing immensely, fuelled by outsourcing and some smart leaders like <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/N._R._Narayana_Murthy">Narayanmurthy</a> and <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.wipro.com/aboutus/azim_profile.htm">Azim Premji</a>.</span> For many a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Institute_of_Technology" title="IITs and NITs are reputed tech colleges in India">IITian</a>/NITian/BITian, it was obvious to board the bus.<br />These super techies were well educated and smart, but the job on offer was comparatively mundane. The money on the other hand was easy, there was lure of overseas stint, and a better quality of corporate life that the new IT companies offered.However, two things happened in this unholy alliance -<br /><br />1. Soon, with an experience of 2 - 3 yrs they were bored and looking to get the MBAs by cracking things like CAT/GMAT etc.<br /><br />2. The bored super techie, with ample time/money on hand and an easy tech access - got interested in Online indulgence into the Equity Market and its cousins . No wonder emergence of the online brokerage/penetration of internet/booming economy and the bored Super Techie in an IT company forged an alliance.<br /><br />Aditya, fell prey to the "obvious second one", stated above; whereas,I was still as non serious as I was two years back (prior to my MBA days). Aditya, in the dinner table would randomly throw a few questions to me like - "given a chance which sector you would bet on?". Then, what would follow was typical MBA global gyan on sectoral growth. Real estate,Retail and Infrastructure would form the core of our discussions. One interesting thing he had revealed to me during such discussions was - his penchant to back companies with strong leaders and an easy way out is - the companies driven by IITians. Thus, he would discuss with me - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indiabulls"><span style="font-weight: bold;">IndiaBulls</span></a>, its rise and future growth plans. I was impressed indeed. He would also explain his game plan - The Markets are on the rise and its gonna surge like this for probably next two years - Here is the chance to maximize our gains and then it will be a <span style="font-weight: bold;">super neo Hindu growth story.</span><br /><br />Its been one year and things have changed since then. I am looking to call him soon and let him know a few of the things that is happening now:<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. An erstwhile busy Investment Banker is finding time to comment on my Tagboard. Wackiness of his comments are not at all proportional to "the squeeze" in the market.( Who is etika <img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_eek.gif" alt="eek" title="eek" width="15" height="15" />).<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. A famous movie from 80s starring Charlie Sheen and Michael Douglas, is going to the editor's table and now the opening trailer would read "Once upon a time in NY, there was a wall street.."<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. Top 10 Email Spams: A forwarded email by a colleague of mine is finding a place into the top 10 email Spams. This was an email on the walk-ins for <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601087&refer=home&sid=a_jFXHzh0PFc">Lehman Employee's</a> by another Investment Bank in India.<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. Corporate Bankers: With work, less likely to come by,the city bankers have installed <span style="font-weight: bold;">NFS (need for speed) </span>on their comps. No corporate client is likely to walk by, to borrow money at such high interest rates.<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. Jaywalking Jay is back to blogging - He has time to sit and fiddle around with his comp. The sudden space has been provided by the decision to cull new retail projects and go slow on spending.<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. Super techie Thorny is looking for start-ups. New projects are drying up for the IT biggies. Banking is a big customer.<br /><br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/pencil.gif" alt="pencil" title="pencil" width="15" height="15" />. My consistent cousin who talks once a year to me had called to say "Hi". During the conversation, he drops in the news of layoffs to be announced by the Steel sector in coming months and how he is wondering what to do. Surely, one option is to pass on the CV to me.<br /><br />These fretting facts, though from different parts of the world they are, point towards one inevitable truth - The slowdown is here - before than we expected and more monstrous than we have ever seen.</div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-82416263927529410152008-06-08T14:29:00.007+05:302008-12-09T18:57:18.771+05:30My Motorcycle Diaries.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5FlkcaP5FWWUEKiidrVmGszrFEdlJXaiHu3uU0ZHLtJll6zQbtxIstojyrXOmKn7GD_rVTpJNVYF28tcuTfvDkrWSBXxjHGPcAgK8D1I3Y4cPqRFrmmoSP8NzDrCiQoQNlfjVA/s1600-h/che.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209447254978300450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5FlkcaP5FWWUEKiidrVmGszrFEdlJXaiHu3uU0ZHLtJll6zQbtxIstojyrXOmKn7GD_rVTpJNVYF28tcuTfvDkrWSBXxjHGPcAgK8D1I3Y4cPqRFrmmoSP8NzDrCiQoQNlfjVA/s320/che.jpg" border="0" /></a> My Cellphone was incessant. The whole world breaks lose to disturb my beauty sleep, which anyways has long alured me since I moved outta college.<br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">"Hello" A very impatient worried voice replied <em>"Sir, there are people around with flags. Shouting and there is chaos. They want the warehouse shut"</em></div><br /><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify">There was no manager available and people down the rung didn't know how to face the adversity. </div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><em>"Shut it and ask all of the workers to move out. We will start work in the evening" </em></div><div align="justify">Sukumar Pal, the Loss Prevention Officer who happened to be the localite, dealt with the crowd and coolly handled the situation. He got the shutters pulled down and sealed. Except for the security everyone was goarded off from the site.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">After that, what followed, was an ugly day of phone calls all of which were answered with the explanations on future coarse of action on how deliveries to the stores can't be made today. It's been the second consecutive day of Bandh/strike called by Political parties. It had crippled productivity and to beat the blues, I was getting some work done by shutting the warehouse from outside while inside workers were going bout their work as usual. In the Repacking centre, all women workers had also turned up and production was up to meet the surge in demand and sales in the stores. Only, some localites got a faint idea what was going on inside and soon a crowd gathered there and demanded immediate closure.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Its been an year since I walked out of college and since then its been a roller coaster (<em>..shouldn't I name this article The Rollercoaster Diaries)</em>. This wasn't a unique morning, but just a part of series of challenges thrown in past one year while living in <strong>THE COMMUNIST BASTION in India - <em>Kolkata.</em></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong></strong></div><br /><div align="justify">Only this time, the strike (Bandh) has been called to protest the Price hike in petrochem. The reasons for bandhs don't matter anymore. Every month we are plagued by 2 to three days of strike in this part of the country. The Party ruling the state and the opposition are equally vehement about protests and thats the way they do it - <em><strong>"Jay, the more ya sleep the more ya reap."</strong></em></div><br /><div align="justify"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><em>You may lose time but your deliverable in modern corporate ain't lowered. At times it frustrates and at times it makes you smile. There is a shining Indian story and there is this part still living with communist ideologies...</em></strong></div><br /><div align="justify"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><em>... and then there is Jay who can talk about the economics of price hike and inflation..</em></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><em></em></strong></div><br /><div align="justify"><strong><em>lol BullShit. "Chalbe Na" Shut the <a href="mailto:F@#$">F@#$</a> up and sleep.</em></strong></div><br /><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;">[In this era of celeb blogs - I donno how many are gonna read it. But hey! do gimme credit for a hungry man, who could not pile up his ration before the bandh took effect and all shops were shut, has written it :) ]</span></strong></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-37588381172881883922007-10-21T13:42:00.000+05:302008-12-09T18:57:18.977+05:30Mannu Bhai Motor Chali pom pom.<div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">We had driven hardly for about 15 min., yet it seemed an endlessly painful rock ride. Heavy vehicles would come from the front, flash their lights and we would have a complete blackout. Sitting on the pillion I would wonder how Mannu was able to guide our way into the darkness. Soon, Mannu interrupted my thoughts.<br /><br />"Can u see anything".<br />"No"<br />"Me too'.<br /><br />I smiled. "Then slow down the bike".<br /><br />"Ok"<br /></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">His left feet flicked on the gear peddle and the bike slowed down.<br /><br />"Arre its too slowwww.." Couldn't complete it. Damn bump dram hump pump. I only had an idea something was going wrong. The front wheel wasn't on the road anymore. Seemed we were sliding down a pit. Suddenly, the body mass of existence flew in air. The laptop that was till now sitting pretty on my back, was suddenly over my head pulling me along.<br /><br />My palm touched the ground 1st and the cell fone slammed on the flat hard road. (Sehwag's mom had advised to keep the cellphone mutthi mein - not my fault) I wasn't resisting any of these nature's call. I just let it go and with a sommersault I was 6 fts away from the bike. The Laptop was still hanging around though.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">Pat - Jay gets up. Pat - he would assess <u><em>this not the sets of MI2</em>.</u> Pat - Jay thinks he had a friend called Mannu with him.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">My wandering eyes fixed on to mannu who was getting up. I started enquiring if everything is alright. He said "Yes, seems so. Look at my face it seems I am hurt around the forehead"</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">I looked at him, I could see his skull. His forehead had hit a stone and it had split the forehead open with a big cut. I said "nah, its cool. Lets try to get the bike on the road and move on."</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">Some bystanders helped me to get the bike back on track. I asked them If I could get a medic help somewhere and moved along. They guided us to a nearby engineering College. I enquired Mannu if you wanna go the college hospital and he refused. He was stiched in a small clinic near the college.<br /></div><div align="justify">They all asked if we were students of the college. I said "oh umm we were, three years back. Now, Mannu teaches there and I have come to meet professors afer a long time".</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144643074637477586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrI37xQTToEXSf8Q-C680kB8oTOuvqMNT2BE9LJ2DrMRffNsRKyG22cpYi05O5092EP3keNrLfVeU3MOX_yFu3_u21B3DWl9H2Y2xQXv5Fpp8ctQUiOaEKv3JNOO2oTA6wyc8_XA/s320/fallingoffbike.jpg" border="0" /><br /><em><u>The whole episode was no less exciting than experiencing . The only regret remained - "the flashlights and cameras around to capture the "somersault" or pretty chicks watching me do the act </u></em>:(.JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-4367120285304245222007-08-19T13:21:00.000+05:302007-08-19T14:14:48.968+05:30BO-MAN: Our Friendly Neighbourhood<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"><em>Recently, I found this wonderful conversation between two of the most wittiest personalities around. May be this exaggerated appreciation is there, because I am fond of Boman Irani and his acting skills.</em></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"><em><strong></strong></em></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"><em><strong>Cyrus:</strong> That’s also how you met Shiamak Davar</em></span></div><div align="justify"><em><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> Shiamak is a wonderful, wonderful guy. He had come to my studio. I was taking pictures of him, trying to entertain him with my jokes to put him at ease because he kept saying he was ugly. He came back the next day and said, R 16;You know Boman, you should be on stage.’ He asked me to audition for a small part in Alyque Padamsee’s play “Roshni”… Alyque initially had rejected my audition. Shiamak insisted that he would not choreograph the show if I was not in it and I did the show, I did one song in it.<br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> No offence to Alyque, the play was…<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> Go ahead and offend Alyque. It’s okay.<br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> Yes, the play was really bad. And the only good part about the play was the pimp… you.<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> <u>Parsi mothers are always very proud of their children. After the show, my mother asked around, ‘Did you like my son?’ They didn’t know who her son was. So she said, ‘The pimp is my son.’ Someone ask ed her if she wanted a lift, and she said, ‘My son will drop me.’ ‘Who will drop you,’ they asked from the other end of the lobby and she went, ‘My son… the… the pimp will drop me. Don’t bother.’</u><br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> (laughs)<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> You’re making fun of my mom by laughing. But yes, growing up in a Parsi family, I’m used to Parsi moms. Every time the dhobi comes, she would go, <strong>‘Tum idhar tehro. Main kapda nikaal ke aati hoon’ (You wai t here. I will remove the clothes and come).</strong><br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> (laughs)<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> You are laughing at my mom again. I’m offended. (mockingly)<br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> Tell me about the classic romance. Your wife used to buy only 100gm of chips from your shop everyday.<br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Boman:</span></strong> Dumb me, I would not understand why she would buy 100gm everyday when she could buy in bulk. And then, it struck me that maybe…<br /><strong>Cyrus:</strong> Her version is that you were the one who gave her 100 gm everyday saying that you were not allowed to give more. But we’ll stick to yours.</em></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-62162311392092418052007-08-07T10:11:00.001+05:302008-12-09T18:57:19.517+05:30Meeting Murrrugan.<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vA06XVaDqUsEL9_0lsne5Tq38CrgKqMDfxzp_7WP3jWUa-1l2HLwSEI5Ji6M-g2l35XUgpMj3llMXWQ5xZr_H0EzYgoeUm16nvsCJL0HbIoisAiDyHbw3WiExuxFAMAgXvWEwA/s1600-h/blog+2.jpg"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096177639885121474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 331px" height="329" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vA06XVaDqUsEL9_0lsne5Tq38CrgKqMDfxzp_7WP3jWUa-1l2HLwSEI5Ji6M-g2l35XUgpMj3llMXWQ5xZr_H0EzYgoeUm16nvsCJL0HbIoisAiDyHbw3WiExuxFAMAgXvWEwA/s320/blog+2.jpg" width="227" border="0" /></em></a><em> "<span style="font-size:85%;">The wings of the plane kissed the terra firma and I woke up to my nervousness of having reached a city,I have never been b4. I slowly made my way outta the airport and found my cabbie waiting for me with a banner in his hand screaming my company's name. I lodged myself in the comfort of the car and soon my cabbie shot,"Wherre to, Sirr?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">"T. Nagar, Sivaji Ganeshan Road"</span><br /></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The smile on the cabbie's face broadens and he pounces on me with a barrage of beamers. " Ganeshaan Sirr.. etc etc etc .... MGR.. me .. Acctorr..." I nodded as if I was as attentative as I was in my biology classes when reproductive system was being explained. </span><br /></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Soon, the cabbie was at his work-lights, Camera,Action-Flassh moves his hands, flassh he folds his sleeves. Flassh he turns it towards me and flassh he points to a </span><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">tattoo which said MGR. </span></strong><br /></em></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"..me MGR..Sarr"</em></span></strong></div><div align="justify"><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#000099;"><em>lolz lolz lolz.. I rolled my eyes and wondered- the craziness has been underrated.</em></span></span><span style="color:#000099;"> </span></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"></span></strong></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">This is <strong>Chennai</strong> for yo, me and all.. and its reputation for craziness about movies and movie stars precedes it. Actors like <strong>MGR, Sivaji Ganeshan, Kamala Hasan</strong> and none otha than <strong>Sivaji the Boss</strong> have ruled the imagination and fascination of the masses for ever. This is also the city of <a href="http://slimspeare.blogspot.com/">Balu</a><strong>(Slim),</strong> <a href="http://donblog.quicksilverhq.com/">Don</a> and <strong><span style="color:#000099;">Geela.</span></strong></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The Rest of the day was spent sleeping in the hotel room. (Damn!! was I scared to venture out .. may be I was.) Finally, in the evening, I decided to go out to City centre (its THE Mall here), Shopped, checked out a few gals (it was hard to come by in the ocean of men), browsed through some books in Landmark,ate at KFC and came back.</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUy4vGO6ZcTk1RZNAzALYVsGd26c9s3ICrWCv2LcMptYREBmTPPxKJHfEpinp0kJxYiYEm40UsHhm5xWNh4HSayeHNA8LCzY34RyN_K4-jhMNma3anJ84fa7p5zuVK6tadc8oeQw/s1600-h/blog1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096178090856687570" style="WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px" height="243" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUy4vGO6ZcTk1RZNAzALYVsGd26c9s3ICrWCv2LcMptYREBmTPPxKJHfEpinp0kJxYiYEm40UsHhm5xWNh4HSayeHNA8LCzY34RyN_K4-jhMNma3anJ84fa7p5zuVK6tadc8oeQw/s320/blog1.jpg" width="314" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5U0G_lpy1XjfbyC4h74e3_EQMlV0YtIb-ErrFv_6UJcv5gLLYDYR5vNuzSB3YpOqcjoOEOwU0CBPFTmu_dL4Ug0rr1CeosH8FIPThYkViDudltUEWTE5bNawI00_j-Kl7RFBLRg/s1600-h/MVI_0036.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096178382914463714" style="WIDTH: 331px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px" height="218" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5U0G_lpy1XjfbyC4h74e3_EQMlV0YtIb-ErrFv_6UJcv5gLLYDYR5vNuzSB3YpOqcjoOEOwU0CBPFTmu_dL4Ug0rr1CeosH8FIPThYkViDudltUEWTE5bNawI00_j-Kl7RFBLRg/s320/MVI_0036.jpg" width="300" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center"><strong><em>@ LANDMARK BOOKSTORE and @KFC </em></strong><br /><br /></div><div align="justify">While coming back to the hotel, I met Murrugan.. His sweet smile .. finished my day on a colorful note.<br /></div><p align="center"><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzlZmzCbilU"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzlZmzCbilU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></p>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-61581002777393576992007-05-04T15:11:00.000+05:302008-12-09T18:57:19.598+05:30My Ricky Babloa as Dayal Baba<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.goodmanson.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/sylvester-stallone-rocky-photograph-c12142815.jpeg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 119px" alt="" src="http://www.goodmanson.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/sylvester-stallone-rocky-photograph-c12142815.jpeg" border="0" /></a>He is having a jaw of iron, a will of steel, and a heart of gold. He is called Ricky Babloa. He is my neighbor. The legend says there used to be a <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Sylvester Stallone</span> fictional character in some hollywood series. Ricky's dad was a die hard fan of the movie. He would throng the local theater every month to have a glimpse of his favorite character. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"baba wo maar waala picture aaya kya? baba lo.. jaa maar dey!!" [friend are they showing that action packed movie.... oh my!! he shows such stunts..]</span><br /></div>The awe which had gripped him was palpable to the life forms which surrounded him. No wonder when a son was born to his passive wife .. he decided to name him after his GOD.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">RICKY BABLOA.</span><br /><br />this was as close as he cud get to Ricky Balboa. Now, Ricky Babloa is a grown up young man and his physique would put his nameshake to shame. He is a towering 5 feet and is <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptRrZ03ZChkzSfvCXUS1R3WVmunwsiYlPHT75ioTcg1vOLrQC6WJoG8Nf2rodXWCFyU0Tvjnp0LethaQ4k02o1pMsW-KuFokOuY6UXP99D-PKiIxDDTzo1WKfBdV62Vw2A8w1bw/s1600-h/vlcsnap-1565764.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060654968607433906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 119px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptRrZ03ZChkzSfvCXUS1R3WVmunwsiYlPHT75ioTcg1vOLrQC6WJoG8Nf2rodXWCFyU0Tvjnp0LethaQ4k02o1pMsW-KuFokOuY6UXP99D-PKiIxDDTzo1WKfBdV62Vw2A8w1bw/s320/vlcsnap-1565764.png" border="0" /></a>heavier than thy (prolly 45kgs). Whenever, I am back home he comes to visit me. We share a lot of information amongst each other. Now a days he is busy imitating some Bangladeshi folksinger. He painted his face and performed exactly like it was done by the originally artist. Later, I found it in <a href="http://youtube.com"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)">youtube</span></a> too. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWccnPviN4M&mode=related&search="><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The Dayal Baba phenomenon.</span></a>In deep roots of India people get more joy out of a Dayal Baba from Bangladesh than a <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Younis Khan </span>(the nobel peace prize winner)<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">, Taslima </span>(lajja etc etc)<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"> </span>or<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"> Monica Ali</span>(a booker prize winner for Brick Lane)<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">.</span><br />When it was my turn to share something with him. I couldn't resist but to tell him <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">everything he always wanted to know about sex, </span>and also, to rekindle his dad's movie mania we sat together to watch <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Woody Allen's</span> first blockbuster. Ricky Babloa almost died of a laugh riot when the 2nd story in the movie started. It went on like this :<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><img class="emoticon" title="attach" height="15" alt="attach" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/attach.gif" width="15" /> An Old Armenian guy visits a doctor. Doctor asks, " what is your problem?"<br />"Doctor, I am in love with a sheep". "A what..!!" "A sheep".<br /><br />Doc is in shock he is just unable to utter any word. After a while he musters all his energy and patiently says," umm I see".<br /><br />The Armenian guy, "U see doctor, in the heights of those Armenian Mountains. No body is out there. At times it gets lonely and I am not married. That night I was feeling so low and there she was .. so beautiful .. so serene.. soothing me.."<br /><br />The doc," the sheep!!" ...." Yes, The Sheep" and the Arenian Continued,"I cudn't resist myself doctor.. I made love to her and it was the best sex I ever Had".<br /><br />The Doc,"ok. So what is the problem?"<br />"You see Doc.. now, she no longer loves me.. I Can feel it .. It hurts. She no longer wants me, after so many nights together... It breaks my heart.. You have to do something about it doctor. My brother says you are Great. You treated him. I know no one else. you have to do it." And he rushes to bring the sheep in the clinic. Doc kept yelling behind his back... "stop, don't do that.. I am not a veterinarian."<br /><br />But the sheep is brought in and doctor checks it and falls in love with the sheep.<br />Later, the doc's wife divorces him for adultery.<br /><br />As soon as this story was over Ricky Babloa got up and said that he gotta get back to his home. I said that he should wait coz the movie ain't over yet. Ricky Babloa said, "My dad is alone in home, I gotta go fast".<br /><br />I said, "oh! Is he sick?" He said,"No!!!.. I have 12 sheeps".<br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-16158069279590393722007-04-29T19:22:00.000+05:302007-04-30T02:42:08.254+05:30To Tie a Knot.. not not.<div align="justify"> A few years back when a friend of mine had flippantly mentioned that the sole pupose of walking the world for such agonizingly long yrs is to produce and leave ur heir; I argued hard against it. Today however, I have been into circumstances that I have started more than believing in it. The whole world is crumbling around me. </div><div align="justify"> 80% of my B.Tech mates are married now. Some of them have children :O. <em>Done and dusted.</em>.A month back we finished our post grad. and about 20% of the nerds took the plunge as soon as the agony of 2 yrs ended. Phoney, Cole, Anush, Daga.. and the list goes on. I came back and been resting at home.. but signs from the almighty doesnt blip for a second. For continuous two weeks all they would flash on TV is some <strong><em>Celeb Marriage</em></strong>. An <strong>Abhishek</strong> married an <strong>Aishwarya</strong>. An <strong>Arun Nayar</strong> married some <strong>Liz Hurley</strong>. People say this Liz. and Aish are beautiful women. I smile and shrugg my shoulders.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">But, the occult wisdom of the <em>mother earth</em> doesn't stop revealing itself here. As I was back, I visited some of my school friends' families. All they talked about is Marriage-marriage-marriage. Being in the wrong side of 25 is an awesome torture for single males here in India. So, there is this aunt whom, I have been advising on her family matters since, I was in class 8th. her son studied with me for 8 yrs in school. Now, her son is working in an engineering corporation and people r bugging her to get his son married of.. All she did was to discuss the marriage proposals with me.. <em>" THis person has got 3 daughters and 3 sons and he owns 6 small diagnostic centres. Do u thnk he would be able to give enough (read dowry)... afterall I need all the expenses covered up...".</em></div><div align="justify"><em> </em></div><div align="justify"><em><br />Court. copulate and produce.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em> </div><div align="justify"><br />My mailbox has started receiving excessive spams of viagra and cialis ads. When it rains it really pains :((.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><em>I am trying to shield myself away from all such alliance tendencies but as i finish this post real fast... someone has just handed a marriage invitation card to me.</em></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">(I wanted to add so many things but, in cafe, I can't concentrate and the end result is such a poor post... anyways.)</div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-60686921783965166102007-04-22T20:09:00.000+05:302007-04-22T20:45:34.098+05:30Wolf - at witz' end<div align="justify"> Ur sorroundings influence you. It does Indeed. My uncle has been a small time political activist (He was fighting the communists.. ). With our constant effort he finallyu distanced himself from all political affiliations.. All?. That's what we thought. But <em>chor chori se jaaye sheena zori se na jaaye. (which means no matter where and how u put <strong>Richard Gere,</strong> he will create a kissing story out of it ;).. why the fuk did they vote him the sexiest man.. If they did .. tell him since then, a lot of water has flown down the bridge and .. people like Brad pitt and George Clooney have come and gone).. </em>Back to the subject. So this uncle of mine is taking a bed rest for three months coz an accident. Now all his aquaintances come to the house and discuss, politics and business (rn't they synonymous :-?). 24x7.<br />So it has rubbed on to me, I've gotten into politics and I picked up this news about Wolfowitz. Sounds NAZI.. Nah re. Infact, he is a Jew. President of World Bank. Served in the defence deptt. All the sleazy CV points. <a href="http://media.monstersandcritics.com/articles/1294307/article_images/headline_1177086854.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://media.monstersandcritics.com/articles/1294307/article_images/headline_1177086854.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So, this guy is on the news coz of the nepotism he has indulged in. Now, there is an Indian connection to it. Bush made him the president of World Bank to clease corruption. All the presidents of the <strong>World Bank</strong> have to be Americans .. So, much for the proponents of democracy (rolls his eyes).<br />So, a man on a mission sends a troupe of lawyers to India to check the corruption in the Health Sector fundings. They summon our Finance Minister <strong>Mr. P. Chidambaram</strong> and wanted to interrogate him .. phewww. The FinMin refused to talk to anyone except their leader ( I guess it was <strong>Shaha Riza</strong> herself (correct me, if I m wrong). Pissed off. They all went back and recommonded the blockade of all funds to India's Health Mission. And it got Blocked. Some people still treat the third world as their colonies.<br />Now, its time for Mr. Wolf to answer. He has been charged with showing extra favors to Shaha Riza and had granted her extra powers. Hi hi hi ... ho ho ho... <em>Maza Aaaya</em></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-64505827089117905372007-04-14T01:06:00.000+05:302007-04-14T01:48:52.304+05:30The Return of Prodigal Son<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Once<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.4halloweencostumes.com/images/16585.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 85px; height: 147px;" src="http://www.4halloweencostumes.com/images/16585.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> upon a time there was a king. He ruled an empire which was fast losing its shine and energy. It seemed to be falling down in the dumps. The king would spend time playing chess with a machine, a new technology which was brought to him from an alien land. The machine was referred to by the messenger from far west as the computer. The frustration of not being able to beat the silly machine never got on to the king and he played chess endlessly.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.4halloweencostumes.com/images/16586.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 177px;" src="http://www.4halloweencostumes.com/images/16586.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">His queen, the mighty woman who stayed with him in his thick and thin would go by the day’s rituals patiently. She would cook, wash and express her dissatisfaction over the shitty work the housekeeper does. Often, to break the monotone she would complain to the King to move to the nearby summer capital Ranchi (also a hill station). The king would brush aside all such expectations. The king was too happy to live in the heat and mistreat, that his castle would bring to him. He in fact wanted to add one more floor to the magnanimity, he called his castle.<span style="font-style: italic;">Why not?</span> He so dearly himself designed the castle.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Designing was one of his old passions. When his fellow princes would go to hunting he would sketch towers on his drawing board. Only now (he is not a public servant anymore) that designing doesn’t earn him any revenue, else he owes his complete pension fund to an engineers' work. Even today people come and ask to design their houses, but they no more pay him and take it for granted, considering it a genuine help the King is willing to offer selflessly. The cost of such a service has surpassed the goodwill it generates. The new machine that his prince had once introduced to him is a wily old creature in designing too, however; the king hates such mechanical interference in his work. </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">More often than not he finds himself indulging in “remote fights” with his queen.(Its both fighting for the remote control of television and fighting from a distance). Ask him to look 6 yrs back, and he would laugh; ‘cause then he used to tease his lovely queen about the crappy soaps she used to watch. Now, he himself has fallen prey to the web that these family dramas spin. Slaves inform us that they often get bored watching each other and arguments or little fights are just a pass time.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Recently, the queen has seen a buzz in her feet. The King has renovated his castle and pruned all the bushes in his garden, that he created by himself. They say their son is returning home triumphantly from the battlefield.<span style=""> </span>The king took his old chariot, an old and legendary white ambassador, to the station to pick him up. After a bit of tom toming, the charioteer brought everyone home safely.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">The prince, excited at the plans he had for his mother was brimming with happiness. He opened the gates and rushed towards his mom. He touched his mom's feet and hugged her. <i style="">Sigh. Its been two years.<o:p></o:p></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">The prince picked her up in his arms and started dancing. The words of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Led Zepp’s </span><i style="">whole lotta love </i>started ringing in his head. Before he could sing <i style="">baby you need cooling.., </i>the queen’s eyes lit up in excitement.<i style=""> She saw the companions of the prince in the chariot. There was this little niece of the prince who had come along with him. The queen rushed towards the kid and picked him in her arms. Then she yelled “Say hello grandma”.<o:p></o:p></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><i style="">The prince thinks … oh! There goes my share of love. Then he turns back and looks at the kid and <span style=""> </span>smiles.<o:p></o:p></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">The prince is played by your own Jay. The King is his dear dad and the almighty queen is his mom.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Though the prince couldn’t sing the Led Zepp number; he soon would and he would don a 70s show attire and would belt the guitar and would record it and sing...</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style="">You need cooling.<br />Baby I am not fooling<br />I am gonna send ya back to schooling<br />Way way inside, honey you need<br />I am gonna give u my love<br />I am gonna give u my love</i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style="">yeeey<o:p></o:p><br />Whole lotta love<br />Whole lotta love<br /></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;" align="center">(Imagine, you singing this to a middle aged Indian housewife who doesn't even know there is world of rock that exists in the same planet..)<i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Foot note: </span><i style="">By the time Jay posted this on his blog.....King's affection for his son was on a wane...and was back to doing his disciplinarian act like scolding for sleeping till 10 in the morning, not taking a bath till 1 pm ..taking his lunch very late and yeah! not shutting his Laptop.<br /></i></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><i style="">But, you know Jay ..right?.. Like father like son ... Old Habits die hard.</i><img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_mrgreen.gif" alt="mrgreen" title="mrgreen" height="15" width="15" /></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-75938549179666565252007-04-03T01:40:00.000+05:302007-04-03T09:13:10.551+05:30Smoke on the water<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Crap on the water:</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> This post was supposed to be titled "O Jay, Where art thou ? - part II". I realized (not so soon) that before I posted <a href="http://jaywalkeroeuvre.blogspot.com/2007/03/o-jay-where-art-thou.html">"O Jay, where art thou - part I"</a> (last post), one of the notorious bloggers in the blogspace called <a href="http://www.akalizze.com/">Lizze</a> had already posted with a similar title "<a href="http://www.akalizze.com/blog/2007/03/17/o-michael-where-art-thou/">O Michael, Where art thou</a>". You may argue that replacing Michael with Jay makes it more spicy (puts a face biting its tongue) but it will also make me charter in troubled waters. This woman (supposedly) is becoming an American from a Londoner(prolly) and thus, the chance of her suing me for copyright violation has increased. I may do a Kaavya Vishwanathan and argue that I prolly derived the name subconsciously from a movie which goes by the name "O Brother, where art thou"; but trust me, it doesn't help. They all believe what they wanna believe (puts a sad face).</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="20" width="400"><float:right><param name="movie" value="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio0/370767_nuubemstxy_conv.flv&autoStart=true"></float:right></object><br /><object height="20" width="400"><embed src="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio0/370767_nuubemstxy_conv.flv&autoStart=false" height="20" width="400"></embed></object><br /> (please, increase the volume)<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Smoke on the water:</span> This wasn't supposed to be the arbitrary display that u just read in the prologue.(Lizze may just kill me for all that). It was supposed to be classical, non funny and tasteless essay.<br /> The March heat was on. While all the students had gone back home or were holidaying, there were two guys, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Lota ji</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Nirmal babu</span> still entrapped within the red walls of the college making charts, cracking data and calling important people to make the ends meet. These no non-sense guys were agribusiness management students and had declined big bucks for entrepreneurship. They were working on several projects simultaneously. This all had started when The Chief Minister of Bihar (a state), <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Nitish Kumar</span> visited the campus last year. Several students presented projects to uplift the state and were willing to work there. The Minister gave a go ahead. They made a support group comprising the students. Each student would pursue his own project while the support group would provide consultancy and take a hit if one of the students fails in his venture. The ideas ranged from <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rural Radio, Retail chain, Insurance plan for Rickshaw pullers, Extracting Ethanol from corn to various consultancy projects for the government.</span> A lot of them are already on its way. Some of the national news channels splashed a one hour documentary on it. The word spread. Venture capitalists, Consultants and supporters from various parts of the country, USA and Europe started calling these people. Now, Nirmal babu says proudly "we won't need Bank Loans. Money is not a constraint. Not for me, not for you and not for any frog who wants to jump out of the well".<br /> Energy rubs on me and I kept wondering, for the past two years where was I and what was I doing "O Jay, Where art thou".<br />Down South Goa. under a full moon and a clean sky, Jay was sipping wine on the beach along with his friends Medha, Danko, KG, Tiru and Jhade Singh. Jay was singing raunchy Bhojpuri songs one after the other and people were egging him on.<br />Medha: "abe! gaana aur suna na" (sing me a song) Jhade Sigh: " Do u remember <span style="font-style: italic;">e guddi</span>".<br />Jay: " <span style="font-style: italic;">O yea, E Guddi.. arre ye Guddi!! aaa Khele chorwa sipaiyya</span>"<br /> "<span style="font-style: italic;">Banhiya mein dhar ke raja....(censored.)</span>"<br /><br />Jhade Singh was dancing and singing alongwith me. Jhade Singh completed his graduation last year and he himself had declined a good job offer to open "chain of spa and wellness centre" with Hukka. Last year, there were about 6 people who had decided to go on their own, this year there are 11. This year, there are several portals made by some of the students which have become huge hits. Among them <span style="font-weight: bold;">"CRICSTOCK"</span> (mixture of Cricket and stocks trading) and <span style="font-weight: bold;">"10 a day"</span> (a portal for CAT preparation)". Rights of publishing some material on cricstock was sold within months to a national news channel (NDTV.com). The deal ranged in Lakhs. <span style="font-style: italic;">Does it sound like the youtube story? </span>My own baddie partner <span style="font-weight: bold;">Paro</span> had a plan in place for "<span style="font-style: italic;">becoming a supplier of a women's inner wear brand"</span> (wipe off that smile), which will cater to somewhere between the high end and low end customer. Her pic was splashed in the cover page of national magazine. Imagine what kind of peer pressure it exerts on other people. Another friend dearly called <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hilao, </span>declined a Lehman Brother's offer because he wanted to indulge in real estate.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>All these things don't demoralize me but make me proud. After all when a college is branded <span style="font-weight: bold;">Harvard of India</span> or the Best B-school in Asia-Pac, it has to shoulder responsibilities and produce entrepreneurs. So what, if people like Jay chose easy way out by working for some one else .<br /><br />Well wait... Jay has a plan in place too . U may just hear what he is planing to do soon. So, wait and meanwhile stop wondering, y does the post has a title smoke on the water. Its cryptic.. he he he.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-39334181368106219832007-03-29T17:46:00.000+05:302008-12-09T18:57:19.755+05:30O Jay. Where art thou ?<div style="text-align: justify;">"..been drinkin, sinkin and thinkin in Goa..got tanned like coal.. biked.......beer red wine white wine sea food sleeping on the rubber floater tattoo masti cards.. sand ....<span style="font-style: italic;">ab rehne de jay!!!</span>"<br /><br />This post was long due. The Goa trip had gobbled me into such laziness that I wd sit back like a sloth whole day in my room doin nothing but watching Prison Break and Rome.<br /><br />Goa was an awesome trip. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Danko</span> and me left from Ahmedabad, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Pa</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">nkhi</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Jhade Singh</span> joined us in the trip...while, <span style="font-weight: bold;">KayG</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Tiru</span> had already booked cottages for us in Palolem Beach. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Palolem</span> is among the top 10 beaches in the world. It features in the movie <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">bourne supremacy.</span> </span>Palolem is 80 km down south from the other popular beaches near Panjim and hence the domestic crowd rarely indulges in the adventure. Thus, it remains one of the less crowded beaches and plenty of foreign tourist spend months in there. The Beach is really cool coz u walk two steps into the sea and u will have enough water to swim and there aren't forcefull currents that will take you away.<br /><br />We hired bikes from <span style="font-weight: bold;">Panjim city</span> for 5 days. And hell!!!! I had been missing biking. I do love <span style="font-weight: bold;">Pulsar DTS I</span>. Its been two years since I quit my job, when I had biked to my satisfaction. Pulsar is the only bike that matches faintly the joyride of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Yamaha RX 100</span>.. By the time we hired it .. it was already evening .. and I had no idea that the road to Palolem is through the hills. The next 5 hrs was spent worrying about the twists and turns and dark jungles .. the journey threw upon me (occasionally), the cool breeze and a speed of 100 km/hr .. did give me some relief....<br /><br />Unlike my other posts, this one sounds like a mundane travelogue. But, I can't muster enough energy to write the way I do.................. So, I will simply put some pics out here from the Goa trip and this anecdote :<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The departure flight for Ahmedabad was to leave within an hour. I was waiting in the cab while Jhade had gone to pick other frnds and luggage. Suddenly the driver turns back and asks "So, did u enjoy Goa trip".. I said I did. He continued "been to Arambol beach. akkha <span style="font-style: italic;">nude beach</span> saab. Udhar kya hai na.. usko dekho koi fikar naye... but dont stare for too long.. Side se dekhne ka ..and move on.. total firungs.(white ppl).. "<br /><br />me: "Nah, didnt go there. Been to Palolem .. its similar and lotsa Israelis. And also to Agonda thats more secluded than others. udhar kya hai na <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">RAVE PARTY </span>bhi attend kiya, Every firung was dressed in white gown. Mast.. booze, grass and blah.."<br /><br />My eye brows wd go up and down in coherence with the spicy details wherever it was required. The interest of the cab driver was providing me enough incentive to go on.<br /><br />Cabbie: " umm Goa is like that. Poora Masti karne ka. Idhar Firung ko lagaya kya?" his voice dipped suddenly and he watched my facial expressions very keenly as if there hinges the mystery of all wisdom.<br /><br />Me: " Nopes. nahin Lagaya" pause. "Arre tumne to lagaya hi hoga itne saal se reh rahe ho" (arre u must have screwed some white chicks, u have been living here for so long.<br /><br />Cabbie: "haan Boss. Once.."<br />By that time pankhi, danko and Jhade had returned with all the luggage.<br /><br />The cabbie opened the doors to help them but for a second he turned his head, smiled at me and sneaked in a few words: "Firung ko lagane ka alag maza hai. Agli baar aao aap." ( its a different experience experience with white females, u come next time ..;)<br /></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnYIEubYvvo5EBygIFnMwbJ8q5UmNjxSTv437WOmmheikSkMRvh0ZlTJO1z2Xkadskh8dbw2UuDp0WrzZxTHAo6sor5tEMy3Uaw39xumMLUAIYQnsgcUQUBDLMD7Aivlx1LjZISQ/s1600-h/Clipboard.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 427px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnYIEubYvvo5EBygIFnMwbJ8q5UmNjxSTv437WOmmheikSkMRvh0ZlTJO1z2Xkadskh8dbw2UuDp0WrzZxTHAo6sor5tEMy3Uaw39xumMLUAIYQnsgcUQUBDLMD7Aivlx1LjZISQ/s400/Clipboard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047326219463977090" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-35108266493293406872007-03-19T05:29:00.000+05:302008-12-09T18:57:20.020+05:30Sea, Sand, Sun and Skin<img style="font-style: italic;" class="emoticon" src="http://www.netvibes.com/img/icons/attach.gif" alt="attach" title="attach" height="15" width="15" /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Disclaimer: characters and incidents in the following act is purely incidental. Any resemblance to the </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">movie 300</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> is purely incidental).</span><br /><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"><br />These were the few brave men who had defied destiny. They fought against slavery. They fought like there was no tomorrow.They were led by their will to enjoy the fate, they had come here to embrace.<br /><br />They looked at the sun which was being gobbled by darkness. The breeze was from the west .... prolly originated in the angst of Persia. Even the sea was hitting the shores with passion and vigour. Apocalypse now. However, only thing etched in the minds of these few men up against all odds, was FREEDOM.<br /><br />The King, looked at the murky sky and remembered the red walls, which had imprisoned him and almost decapitated him for two years. Then, he turned to face the fellow soldiers, who had vowed to die with him and cried with LORD'S own stereo:<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">"SPARTANS !!!!!! tonite.........w</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">e die in our undies"</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Soon..... the warriors JAY, HAT, FUGGA, CANTO, MAXI, BOCHO, FOOZIE and Junglee NATO threw their naked bodies, wrapped only in underwears; to the sea and swam and dived and somersaulted and played and laughed and sun burnt themselves till FUGGA said, "mujhe bhookh lagi hai" (I am hungry).</span><br /><br />We were holidaying in DIU. DIU is a small island and used to be a Portuguese colony. It has got beaches, the Portuguese church, some good Italian restaurants, sea food, booze and peace. There are too many stories from the trip. I wish I could dish them all here. People rush to this place mostly because there is a ban on liquor in my state and nearby Diu is a good excuse to let the juices flow. I was surprised to get discounts in the resort we lived in for two days. I was amused by the fact that the Identity card of my college was doing wonders 100s of kilometers away. I was with a bunch of friends who had let the peer pressure and finance jobs bypass them and accepted marketing jobs (which was only 8% of the final job scene this year in my college).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7GcQoqdPir6sTTst_L51B5vuyQKG_HPSjREN9acAqqOlJXugbNqPeBfDY3EnJ1LG2aBbrKbHelYe8UFotguQ9dqyy-A1CZ5HnqMQx_-r09rxvwdWOXjWaGN8woBRwq2-4nX15w/s1600-h/Clipboard02.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7GcQoqdPir6sTTst_L51B5vuyQKG_HPSjREN9acAqqOlJXugbNqPeBfDY3EnJ1LG2aBbrKbHelYe8UFotguQ9dqyy-A1CZ5HnqMQx_-r09rxvwdWOXjWaGN8woBRwq2-4nX15w/s400/Clipboard02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043405596145911842" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UvQkdzx-Q_9iMNcFbWBpCX0Dn-3ae9TVBtmQ9AEPKAPekg7VlPqOBsOk3fToaekfXhIfj0u_ZLJVXc7D5558vYnmJJZ7oPWnsHrqz2t9mk5ikP8ca5SAWsIq_lkdBn2tFfQDKg/s1600-h/diu.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UvQkdzx-Q_9iMNcFbWBpCX0Dn-3ae9TVBtmQ9AEPKAPekg7VlPqOBsOk3fToaekfXhIfj0u_ZLJVXc7D5558vYnmJJZ7oPWnsHrqz2t9mk5ikP8ca5SAWsIq_lkdBn2tFfQDKg/s400/diu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043405046390097922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I would put anecdotes from the trip sometime later. Right now I am bugged by my itinerary. I have finally booked tickets for GOA (the poor man's CANNES). Tiru and KayGX would join, me and Danko there in GOA after attending the IRON MAIDEN CONCERT. (oh man! y did I miss it.) Maxi is joining NOKIA which has sponsored the IRON MAIDEN CONCERT and is also Sponsoring SHAKIRA's SHOW in Mumbai. Our own Tadka is looking after the two concerts as a representative of NOKIA. Tickets/ Passes wd have been available so easily :(((((. Anyways, as of now ... following schematic diagram is supposed to represent <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"how jay, broke sackles, toured, laid eggs, punished cockroaches and got a life" </span><span>for next 20 days.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://img137.imageshack.us/img137/6366/tour2it4.jpg" /><br /></div><br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-82338748067202326142007-03-18T01:51:00.000+05:302007-03-18T02:17:00.606+05:30The Dawg is leaving<div style="text-align: justify;">There are numerous videoz made every year. This one is one of the videoz, which captures and arouses my sentiments for leaving one of the best places on earth after 2 years. The video has been made by Proxy, who is now joining a Swiss Bank and its all about the Dormies. All the Dawgs captured in the video. <span style="font-style: italic;">...................................................................I need a shoulder to cry now!!!!</span><br /><br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pjDaRSgtcQE"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pjDaRSgtcQE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br /><br /></div><br /><br />There is this video from one of "the wannabe rival college of ours". The video is sweet and for our batch, thus, it reciprocates our feelings. It is extremely nostalgic :( and the composition is their own.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5hOVCHCkj0c"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5hOVCHCkj0c" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-61956646845432746962007-03-14T13:28:00.000+05:302008-12-09T18:57:20.169+05:30Bong Bong Bang BangI just finished watching this new Indian movie named <span style="font-weight: bold;">"honeymoon travels ltd."</span>. The story was weird and at times hilarious. Among all the couples shown in the movie, there was this Bong (Bengali.. ppl belonging to West Bengal in India) couple. The young bride was like a lake, holding millions of boiling desires inside with a calm presence on top. One day, she insists her husband to walk to their home at nite, instead of taking a bus. The Hubby, a typical Bengali guy,was hesitant initially but gives in to constant bugging from her better-beautiful half. And just to prove <span style="font-weight: bold;">the Murphy's Law</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">(If something can go wrong, it will)</span>, some goons surround them in a lonely road and ask to submit all the belongings. Even the chain, the woman was holding to so dearly. Even the chain!!! Even the chain!!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Back off!!!"</span> She shouted,<span style="font-style: italic;">"I am not giving you this. It was gifted by my parents."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Guahahahaha"</span> (please, imagine the echo and monstrous laugh)...<span style="font-style: italic;">"give us the chain .. u filthy.. wh@#$"</span><br /><br />The afraid and astonished husband pleads,<span style="font-style: italic;">"Sona diye dao.. chainta diye dao"</span> (Darling, please give them the chain)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I am warning you, don't try to touch it."</span> announced the woman in her increasingly war rhetoric.<br /><br />With knife in the right hand, the grease painted face with a mole, grinned and lunched forward towards her.<br /><br />Suddenly without warning, the catwoman of that coy Bong gal jumps in air and slams her knee on the chest of the goon. A few more of those martial art kicks and the battle was over.<br /><br />The hubby looked at her with his mouth wide open and so did I. She comes to him puts her head on his shoulder and says,<span style="font-style: italic;">"Remember, momma used to se</span><span style="font-style: italic;">nd me to learn <span style="font-weight: bold;">RabindraSangeet</span> in the red building. They used to teach martial arts in the floor below. I never liked Singing."<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg53svi-cc980NVRDKCEKBUT_y92I2KIpvViRcaJ0PEdpe-r0M6dq9JC9sXTT-255oGdljkXq7mcUNpAU1tBg3HQbRKa_H9nSzqgzDlts8gsyoKyBZV0wt5U_lN0yK7wqH450ZvXg/s1600-h/Clipboard01.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg53svi-cc980NVRDKCEKBUT_y92I2KIpvViRcaJ0PEdpe-r0M6dq9JC9sXTT-255oGdljkXq7mcUNpAU1tBg3HQbRKa_H9nSzqgzDlts8gsyoKyBZV0wt5U_lN0yK7wqH450ZvXg/s400/Clipboard01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041750006512388082" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;">Yup. That is the story of a rebel Bengali. Every Bengali is supposed to be surrounded in the myth of Rabindrasangeet. They are defined by their coy and disciplined behaviour. Woman with Big Red Dot on head and a stick in the hand to spank their hubby. Man, with a restricted behavior and high intellect but bound by the limits drawn by his wife and his five Gods<br /><br />1. <a href="http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=Rabindranath+Tagore&gwp=13">Rabindranath Tagore</a><br />2. <a href="http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=Durga&gwp=13">Durga</a><br />3. <a href="http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=Subhash+Chandra+Bose&gwp=13">Subhash Chandra Bose</a><br />4. <a href="http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=Satyajit+Ray&gwp=13">Satyajit Ray</a><br />5. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saurav_Ganguly">Saurav Ganguli.</a><br /><br />U utter a word against them and they will take out ur tongue and stuff it up ur arse. I have my own Bong connections. I was reminded of it a few days back during the Holi family get-together. One grandma comes to me and says, "Beta, did u read Tagore. Rabindrasangeet is the ultimate treasure of wisdom and wealth. Have u read <a href="http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=gitanjali&gwp=13"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gitanjali</span></a>?? U didn't !!! U should see the way he defines "LOve". There is no human emotion, which isn't delineated in there. Read it and follow it. U will have success and will get a good job and u will prosper."<br /><br />I nodded once. twice. thrice. and so on. Then, I looked at grandma, i looked at the roof for once and then I kept my head down. I couldn't find any Bong words to reciprocate to her. My next job would probably take me to a stint in the land of Bongs "Calcutta" ..(Blasphemy.. its Kolkata).<br /></span><br />There are a few good things about Bengali though They have supposed to be the Hottest and most beautiful Indian women. They have <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rasagolla"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rasagolla</span></a>, which is a good Bengali sweet. They can have me, if they promise to be nice and welcoming.<br /><br />Lastly, a few words for the girl, who probably reads my blog a lot. Please!!!!!!!!!!!11 stop asking me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"how do u say I love u or I love someone else</span> in Bengali "<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-38578099308199589302007-03-11T21:37:00.000+05:302007-03-11T23:10:35.037+05:30Theory of olives and flying sperms.<div style="text-align: justify;">In last few days, I have chalked out 200 plans for the coming holidays and erased them. Hence, the frustration of not being able to come out with anything is growing inside me. It is pinching me and the bitterness is flowering.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Iron Maiden</span> concert in Bangalore this month seems already a distant future. Precariously hanging, is also my Goa plan. G-Spot is dancing in the corner of my mind with his offer to go to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Vaisno Devi.</span> It is easier to fight US elections, than fix a plan for me. STD accuses me of the laziest and slowest guy to have roamed this earth.. Holy crap!!!! wd u believe it .. he he he.<br /><br />I am lazy and slow. But <span style="font-weight: bold;">O.J. Simpson</span> beats me blue at that. Didn't you hear his latest claim. He says:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Anna Nicole Smith's child is actually his. The gal child was born late because of his slow moving sperms. He hopes that there is no DNA test, otherwise it would be found that he is the father. He is among the three other men who have thrown their hats in the ring and claim the child is their."<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><img src="http://img164.imageshack.us/img164/1681/clipboard98pi9.jpg" /></span><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br />Weird as it may sound, It would certainly do Anna proud if she is looking from the up-above. This is just the second weird findings of the week. The banana split guy, who lives close by introduced me to his cousin. Conversations took us around the world. From Charlie Sheen's hairdo in Hot Shots to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Theory of olives</span> from <span style="font-style: italic;">"How I met your mother"</span>.<br /><br />She listens to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Tony Flow and the Miraculously Majestic Masters of Mayhem.</span> She says she is a big fan of their music. I said, "gulp!! gulp!! ok". It would have been easier to swallow had she just said she likes <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Red Hot Chilli Peppers,</span> as the band is known now-a-days.<br />When she asked me what I listen to, I said, "cacophony of the weirdest lizard on earth which surely isn't miraculously majestic master of mayhem's fluidity." ..ok.. whatever it meant... bleh..<br /><br />She said are u applying <span style="font-weight: bold;">Theory of olives</span>. Aha!! something I had an idea about. <span style="font-style: italic;">Theory of olives states that if you like olives and the counterpart doesn't there is an attraction.So , if some one likes red hot chilli peppers i wouldn't.<br /></span>I said, "may be, if it impresses you ... however,I hardly have an idea what I am doing, except for attempting a sarcastic take on ur taste in music.. And in which I have failed measurably."<br /><br />She shrugged her shoulders. I shrugged <strike>her</strike> mine.<br /><br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-3466638106503806602007-03-09T14:28:00.000+05:302007-03-09T14:31:29.470+05:30Master Plan GoogleThis is an over hyped conspiracy theory and the clip is very sleek.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9zKXCQpUnMg"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9zKXCQpUnMg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-64894261954241824332007-03-07T03:29:00.000+05:302007-03-11T23:31:15.724+05:30Total economix<div style="text-align: justify;">As I am graduating, bypassing the Gyan distribution in my very own blog would be a gross error. So, I am gonna bowl short spells of friendly biodegradable knowledge from my wallet.<br /><br />Last fortnight was a whirlwind in the economy. The inflation touched a mammoth high, the annual exercise of Budget by the Finmin was tabled, the top B-Schools in the country entered the campus recruitment season and the grand old man of intestine Mr. Alan Greenspan opened his mouth again.<br /><br />Talking of inflation, the reason is a palpable supply constraint. Too much money is chasing too few goods. The growing demand is exceeding the production capacities. Among other goods, Oil and petroleum is a substantial determinant of how inflation would go. India imports heavily and pays in <span style="font-weight: bold;">rupees</span> for it. Now, we do not let the Rupees to appreciate (limited floating), hence we have to pay a lot to import the oil. If Rupee appreciates against the Dollar the imports would become cheaper and the prices of oil can be brought down and hence the inflation too. Having said so its not that simple either. It spells doom for the exports and especially the software companies like Infosys; which are heavily dependent on software and services exports. Infact, it doesn't seem a good year for software companies. After enjoying a tax holiday of about 10 years they have been brought under the ambit of <span style="font-weight: bold;">MAT (minimum alternative tax).</span> No doubt the response from Bangalore was meek and gloomy. Meanwhile, the inflation is yet to be tamed.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Much ado about nothing: </span>Alan Greenspan predicted about 33% chance of a global recession. Considering the fact that global economy was overheating after enjoying a 6th consecutive year of recovery, it seemed a correction factor. Stocks across the globe which had started tumbling two days ago .. actually made a comeback today. Greenspan's words couldn't dampen it further.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The reflection in my home:</span> Today <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">IIM Bangalore</span>, one of the premier management institutes in India, saw its Day Zero placements today. It wasn't as rosy as expected in a year when the economy has prolly grown about 9.2 %. Global Investment banks unexpectedly picked up very low numbers. While, back in college, we were discussing the placements in our group, I actually joked <span style="font-style: italic;">"Its a sign of global recession".</span> Hell !!.... Is the recession really down the corner?<br /><br />Hope not... anyways the panic button has been pressed in my campus, where the campus recruitment season is just a day to go.<br /><br />Those who get the news from the media would prolly never know the pressure and tension of a gloomy and uncertain future some of the students are facing because by the end of it Management institutions manage to show a big picture which has all the colors in place.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Agar Media: </span>Management colleges like the one from where I am graduating should actually share the blame for the misquoted statements in newspapers and newschannels. At times, in the hunt of greater glory; the students also gloss the final fugures of campus recruitment and salaries being offered. There is this funny story that figured in one of the leading business newspapers:<br /><br />"Indian Institute of Management, Calcutta students have been offered salary packages of more than 1 crore (10 million)..................<br /> .............................. In fact, the IIMs in India have come of age as these salaries are about 50% more than the salary figure offered to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Harvard</span> and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Stanford Graduates</span>".<br /><br />Eventually, students in these colleges know the missing link. So, a friend of mine called IIM, Cal questioning as to wtf!!!! are these figures. They replied <span style="font-style: italic;">"you started the game"</span>.<br /><br />Yup, the 1st news of more than a Crore salary came out of my campus, which was offered by a leading investment bank. Well, if someone could get the structure of the overall salary being quoted, they could see, it includes a huge chunk as the <span style="font-weight: bold;">expected bonus. ...</span>And I talk of a bloated figure .. douche!!!!!<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Talking about media, there is another news article which made our jaws drop and made us giggle. Read this : http://www.centralchronicle.com/20070303/0303102.htm.<br /><br />This college is also among the reputed management colleges in India. Hopefully this press release was not a work of the college officials but the work of an<span style="font-weight: bold;"> evil genius called press reporter. </span>Look at the spelling mistakes committed : <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Macancy, Assenger business consultant, Deloty consultancy, Goldman Saches, Duche bank, City group, Alghamin Industries,etc.</span><br /><br />(The correction should be-McKinsey, Accenture, Deloitte, Goldman Sachs, Deutsche Bank, Citi, Alghanim). Some of them are the richest banks in the world and lolz imagine if they read the news article.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-87652071065030128222007-03-01T20:01:00.000+05:302007-03-01T22:35:16.547+05:30And another thing, I forgot..<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am taking my Dorm for a dinner.... the whole dorm.. Oh yeah Baby... aaan aaan nod ur head.. That's right. See u latza, right now time for matza in Mirch Masala.</span>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-75280215123116596752007-03-01T16:21:00.000+05:302007-03-01T16:44:56.735+05:30Need to write..The evilllllllllllllllllllllllllll has been let loose.<br /><br />I just finished the last exam in my life. TOmorrrow, I will start packing to go back home after 2 loooooooooong yrs, in which was prostituted by the books. (Doesn't feel bad tho .. I was a high end call boy of the acads <img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_lol.gif" alt="lol" title="lol" height="15" width="15" />).<br /><br />By the looks of it, u should feel by now I am going crazy. Batasha was the 1st one I called in the moment of ecstasy. Then, I wanted to call others.....hell!!! some inhibitions stopped me from doing so. Anyways, so here I am; my heads swinging to the <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Voodoo child</span> by <span style="font-weight: bold;">Jimi Hendrix</span> and my fingers moving fast over the laptop surface.<br /><br />Tomorrow, The sexy-eyes-Doc is coming to the town for an Interview. He is my long time undergrad friend and is also known as <span style="font-weight: bold;">the man of weird ideas</span> in the Jay world. When we finished XII, we took admission into St. Xavier's college (not telling you which Xaviers .. na na na). So, the class had like 40 gals and 10 guys of which 3 wd remain absent. When we would sit in the Lab.. staring at the gals... Doc wd mention <span style="font-style: italic;">"Jay!!! when r they gonna make prostitution legal in the country. When wd my dream of opening a brothel be realized.Oh!! Amsterdam I miss u".</span><br />After a brief stint there in the college he followed me to the undergraduation (B. Tech.) and we had fun.......... the story thereafter is <span style="font-weight: bold;">LEEE GEEEN</span> wait a minute its coming <span style="font-weight: bold;">DDDARY</span>.<br /><br />But, I will talk about all those later.. right now two stingy chopsticks .. a few sexy white grain of rice and an aphrodisiac called Water is waiting for me ........ I NEED TO EAT.JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-37342470598613658832007-02-27T19:05:00.000+05:302007-02-28T02:13:39.467+05:30Goats' testicles and sexual politics<div style="text-align: justify;">The slave comes forward and brings the bowl forward:"<span style="font-style: italic;">The goats' testicle domina."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Not for me, for Octavian."</span> and points to the kid sitting opposite her. Then, she continues:<span style="font-style: italic;">"Eat them while they are warm my dear, puts oak in ur penis."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I rather not."</span> Refuses the young man with disgust in his voice.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Nonsense, u must. U have been developing a distinctive feminine aroma and I do not like it.When ur mom's father was at ur age .. not a single slave gal was safe. Remember the son of Julia and the masculine men. Now, do as I say .. eat them."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I will not."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"U will not leave the room unless u do as I say."</span><br /><br />Stares for a while and then barks again:<span style="font-style: italic;">"I am waitinggg!!!!."</span><br /><br />and that kid at the young age of 19 became the emperor of Rome. Under his rule Rome ushered in a new era of prosperity and stability.his name was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Augustus,</span> also called as The Son of God, the heir to the throne of Julius Caesar.<br /><br />I came across this while watching <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rome</span> (a HBO series). It shows brutal and insensitive treatment of women. Men used to swear by the code of conduct, would live by sword and use women like commodity. Women would be deceitful and use sex and seduction to have their way and screw the royalty. Similar, sexual politics is also seen in far east in Indian subcontinent. Women were used as commodity (well things have changed but..) and women wd play similar games full of lust, deceit and treachery. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Kama Sutra</span> is a tale of how women play sexual politics.<br /><br />Having said so... I wd again read the conversation above between Augustus and his mother and I can't stop laughing.. Dude!!!! goats's testicle to become a man.... he he he.<br /></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18992602.post-33142993747076977592007-02-24T03:16:00.000+05:302007-02-28T02:12:16.735+05:30Main Bhi Madonna: Audioslaved<div style="text-align: justify;">This is erratic. Suddenly, I found myself with a lot of free time. It is making me go crazy and I am doing really stupid stuff. Missing old flames... <span style="font-style: italic;">awwww.</span> Soul searching.........<span style="font-style: italic;">bullshit.</span> Playing....... <span style="font-style: italic;">kid!!!</span>. and Singing.............. <span style="font-style: italic;">save me!!!</span>.. and recorded them... <span style="font-style: italic;">why??????</span><br /><br />The 1st song I chose to better (he he he) was "Show me how to live"............. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Chris Cornell</span> <img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_cry.gif" alt="cry" title="cry" height="15" width="15" />.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object height="20" width="400"><float:right><param name="movie" value="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340321_xtgvuivlta_conv.flv&autoStart=true"></float:right></object><br /><object height="20" width="400"><embed src="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340321_xtgvuivlta_conv.flv&autoStart=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="20" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I Know, I can't SING.</span> But u can pass these pieces of melody as drunken frustrations of a bereaved soul. (ouch!!! the songs were less painful than Jay's writing).<br /><br />So, here u go.... this time <span style="font-weight: bold;">COCHISE.</span><img class="emoticon" src="http://wolverinex02.googlepages.com/icon_lol.gif" alt="lol" title="lol" height="15" width="15" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object height="20" width="400"><float:right><param name="movie" value="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340319_upjmrjmxjn_conv.flv&autoStart=true"></float:right></object><br /><object height="20" width="400"><embed src="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340319_upjmrjmxjn_conv.flv&autoStart=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="20" width="400"></embed></object><br /></div><br />and I did that again :<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object height="20" width="400"><float:right><param name="movie" value="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340320_vbrbxfnhbg_conv.flv&autoStart=true"></float:right></object><br /><object height="20" width="400"><embed src="http://lifelogger.com/common/flash/flvplayer/flvplayer_basic.swf?file=http://jayz.lifelogger.com/media/audio/340320_vbrbxfnhbg_conv.flv&autoStart=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="20" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Now u know when I said I am going crazy, what I meant.<br /><br /></span></div>JAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01449060666458734563noreply@blogger.com7