Jay's oeuvre

A bit of jazz in blog, however, falls tremendously short of being a musical

The Game Theory
Wednesday, August 26, 2009

genre: semi fiction

ratings: thumbthumbthumb

disclaimer: This is hardcore and meant to seduce a gamer; for others - about a decade back two nerds gave the world something called "google".

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 Age of Mythology, he thinks appeasement of God is as easy as a click on the mouse. Yesterday's aggressive Atilla the Hun - 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 brit longbowman or chinese chunokus to pierce the fortified walls of hers.

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.

F on the other hand knew it was a Trojan Horse (.. not in that exact term though, yeah! she called it "fake").

"So, did you lose or win?"

"Lost.. no!... I mean in what?"

"Age Of Empire... 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 rolleyes.

"darn.. what a turn off!" he looked at the phone in surprise, "Wasn't the Paladin from the imperial age happened to be as charming as one gets!!"

Understanding Mills and Boons 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**).

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.

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."

He picked up his beer can and said, "Warriors!! next game - Continental against the Spanish in hardest and fast mode"

Everyone joined the rhetoric and said, "yay!!"

tagPost script from the friendly neighborhood:

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.


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by JAY @ 9:13 PM |Show/Add (3) comments|

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Mannu Bhai Motor Chali pom pom.
Sunday, October 21, 2007


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.

"Can u see anything".
"No"
"Me too'.

I smiled. "Then slow down the bike".

"Ok"

His left feet flicked on the gear peddle and the bike slowed down.

"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.

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.

Pat - Jay gets up. Pat - he would assess this not the sets of MI2. Pat - Jay thinks he had a friend called Mannu with him.

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"

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."

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.
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".


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 :(.

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by JAY @ 1:42 PM |Show/Add (47) comments|

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My Ricky Babloa as Dayal Baba
Friday, May 04, 2007

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 Sylvester Stallone 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. "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..]
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.

RICKY BABLOA.

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 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 youtube too. The Dayal Baba phenomenon.In deep roots of India people get more joy out of a Dayal Baba from Bangladesh than a Younis Khan (the nobel peace prize winner), Taslima (lajja etc etc) or Monica Ali(a booker prize winner for Brick Lane).
When it was my turn to share something with him. I couldn't resist but to tell him everything he always wanted to know about sex, and also, to rekindle his dad's movie mania we sat together to watch Woody Allen's first blockbuster. Ricky Babloa almost died of a laugh riot when the 2nd story in the movie started. It went on like this :

attach An Old Armenian guy visits a doctor. Doctor asks, " what is your problem?"
"Doctor, I am in love with a sheep". "A what..!!" "A sheep".

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".

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.."

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".

The Doc,"ok. So what is the problem?"
"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."

But the sheep is brought in and doctor checks it and falls in love with the sheep.
Later, the doc's wife divorces him for adultery.

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".

I said, "oh! Is he sick?" He said,"No!!!.. I have 12 sheeps".

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by JAY @ 3:11 PM |Show/Add (0) comments|

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The Return of Prodigal Son
Saturday, April 14, 2007

Once 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.

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.Why not? He so dearly himself designed the castle.

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.

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.

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. 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.

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. Sigh. Its been two years.

The prince picked her up in his arms and started dancing. The words of Led Zepp’s whole lotta love started ringing in his head. Before he could sing baby you need cooling.., the queen’s eyes lit up in excitement. 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”.

The prince thinks … oh! There goes my share of love. Then he turns back and looks at the kid and smiles.

The prince is played by your own Jay. The King is his dear dad and the almighty queen is his mom.

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...

You need cooling.
Baby I am not fooling
I am gonna send ya back to schooling
Way way inside, honey you need
I am gonna give u my love
I am gonna give u my love

yeeey
Whole lotta love
Whole lotta love

(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..)

Foot note: 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.

But, you know Jay ..right?.. Like father like son ... Old Habits die hard.mrgreen

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by JAY @ 1:06 AM |Show/Add (5) comments|

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Bong Bong Bang Bang
Wednesday, March 14, 2007

I just finished watching this new Indian movie named "honeymoon travels ltd.". 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 the Murphy's Law (If something can go wrong, it will), 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!!

"Back off!!!" She shouted,"I am not giving you this. It was gifted by my parents."

"Guahahahaha" (please, imagine the echo and monstrous laugh)..."give us the chain .. u filthy.. wh@#$"

The afraid and astonished husband pleads,"Sona diye dao.. chainta diye dao" (Darling, please give them the chain)
"I am warning you, don't try to touch it." announced the woman in her increasingly war rhetoric.

With knife in the right hand, the grease painted face with a mole, grinned and lunched forward towards her.

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.

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,"Remember, momma used to send me to learn RabindraSangeet in the red building. They used to teach martial arts in the floor below. I never liked Singing."

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

1. Rabindranath Tagore
2. Durga
3. Subhash Chandra Bose
4. Satyajit Ray
5. Saurav Ganguli.

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 Gitanjali?? 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."

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).

There are a few good things about Bengali though They have supposed to be the Hottest and most beautiful Indian women. They have Rasagolla, which is a good Bengali sweet. They can have me, if they promise to be nice and welcoming.

Lastly, a few words for the girl, who probably reads my blog a lot. Please!!!!!!!!!!!11 stop asking me: "how do u say I love u or I love someone else in Bengali "

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by JAY @ 1:28 PM |Show/Add (9) comments|

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Goats' testicles and sexual politics
Tuesday, February 27, 2007

The slave comes forward and brings the bowl forward:"The goats' testicle domina."

"Not for me, for Octavian." and points to the kid sitting opposite her. Then, she continues:"Eat them while they are warm my dear, puts oak in ur penis."

"I rather not." Refuses the young man with disgust in his voice.

"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."

"I will not."

"U will not leave the room unless u do as I say."

Stares for a while and then barks again:"I am waitinggg!!!!."

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 Augustus, also called as The Son of God, the heir to the throne of Julius Caesar.

I came across this while watching Rome (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. Kama Sutra is a tale of how women play sexual politics.

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.

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by JAY @ 7:05 PM |Show/Add (0) comments|

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The Goo, The Ba, and the Lee
Monday, January 15, 2007

Rating: *** (PG)
Soundtrack: Jay (Blatantly lifted from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly)

Play the mood:(the version which included my voice couldnt be uploaded on time sad, will do it later)



Epilogue: Its been only 3 days, I had arrived in this infamous land in relation to my work. Straighway, I was assigned a job in a remote town. I was about to leave the small roads of the city to join the highway. I could see millions trying to do so.. and my bad! all the other lanes except mine were under repairs. The lane was generous as it accommodated all of us, and then suddenly we saw right in front of us a guy on his horseback riding like a cowboy .. coming straight at us. (The other side of the road was logged coz of traffic the guy just switched over to wrong side). It was just the beginning as the land let me experience the WHOLE WILD WEST thereafter. It is also known as Bihar. This is just one of the stories narrated to me by a friend.

pencil Story: Jay had just withdrawn some money from the ATM and was rushing towards his home on his Yamaha RX 100. It was a posh locale, abuzz with crowd in the heart of the city. He took a right into the colony where he lived. Soon he could hear some words chasing him from the behind.

"He is the one. Bastard!!.. Lets beat the shit out of him. He is the one"
"No. No. I don't think this is the guy."
"No. I am telling ya. This mo fo is the one.. what are we waiting for"

Jay decides to check it out as to what was going on. He brings his road rider RX100 to a halt and looks back. Two men were approaching him. Suddenly they increased their pace and with a flash they surrounded him. One of them said: "take out cash. FAST"
As i move a bit I wake up to the gun pinching me near my kidney."

He pressed the gunpoint again to enforce the dictum. Jay takes out his wallet to get some cash. They snatch the wallet, move away, ride their bikes and only a trail of dust is left. People started surrounding a shell shocked Jay.

After 1 hr, Jay is home. A cousin of his is discussing the matter with him. Jay doesn't want to register a complaint. Cousin pressurizes him to do so. Then Jay informs that he did visit the police station but they refused to register it. Cousin immediately calls the Police Commissioner, who is a relative.
Commissioner takes a note and gets back to them after 15 min.: "get your complaint registered in the Police station".

At 10 pm, the inspector of the police station calls and asks" Sir. can u please come and register the F.I.R."
Jay refused rudely coz it was too late in the night. The inspector hangs up and calls in the morning again to continue with his request. This time jay decides to go and register the F.I.R.

Later in the day, the inspector calls again and says:"Sir. U can come to the Police station, we recovered your belongings".
Happy yet surprised, at the efficiency; Jay goes back to the police station where they hand over the wallet to him. All the documents were in place. The wallet looked as if was thrown in a garbage bin.He checks eagerly (there were some important documents and a hefty check in the wallet). All of them were in place. But, there was about Rs 5000 cash missing from the wallet. As he raised his face to inquire with the police inspector. The inspector interrupted: "You know, I had to chase the bastards and get your belongings. You should be happy u got atleast your wallet back." he followed it with a wide grin.

I decided not to argue any further and returned home. Later in the evening The commissioner called to ask if everything went fine. Jay informed him of the wallet and the missing Cash.
Commissioner responded with a tone laden with anger:"wtf. The cash was there in the wallet, when last reported to me." "Jay. wait.. I will get back to you later".

After one hour the inspector calls Jay again:"Sir, we have nabbed some of the goons and have got the cash from them. Can you please come and identify the offenders".

I mulled over the idea and decided to let it go.

Soon the commissioner called and asked whether he got his money back or not.
Jay replied:"Uncle let it go. Those 5000 bucks aren't much. If I identify the goons today, tomorrow they will nail me down and I can't go back to you every time. I am the one who has to live his life amongst these bastards."

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by JAY @ 8:15 AM |Show/Add (0) comments|

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PENis Mightier than Sword.
Sunday, November 05, 2006

Type: Theatrical
Skill: histrionics
Battle of CR-6 (CR= Class Room)


It looked hazy. I could only figure out some movements in between the woods. I took my position which was strategically apt for hiding from any offensive of the enemy.


Soon, the lord of the rings had entered. Everyone settled. My closest aide elbowed me to morning.


The tension in the air was palpable no one had a clue what the professor demanded when he said "How do u do appraisal of working capital loans". That was enough to disconnect me from the proceedings. I wanted to go back to sleep but, it was not to be so..


Looking at an complacent opponent, the guy sitting on right took out his naked shining pen .. and ***click*** my hand was almost pierced.. My mouth opened to gasp .. but the voice was choked within. (I hadn't expected he will take revenge for yesterday's powerful display of my penwork.)


I quickly searched for my pen ...only to find to my utter dismay "they" had it planned to perfection. All my accessories had already been removed. Only think i could do was to look at the watch and wait for the lecture to end.. while my adversaries kept bleeding me and ... their Gothic "muahahahahahaha".

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by JAY @ 11:05 PM |Show/Add (2) comments|

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Kill Bill.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Rated : ***
Background Score : Nancy Sinatra and Jay





The shuttle was tossed up. Paro had hit her typically sharp crosscourt drop. The opponent picked it up but managed only to push it further to the midcourt.

The shuttle was high up in front of me in the mid court.

Paro (shouts): "Kill It !!"

I typically put it across another drop to an unreachable corner.

Paro (Giggles) : "Yeah, Kill it in your own way!"

Jay : ha ha ha.

Yeah So i am averse to smashing the shuttle. This was yesterday when we were playing a friendly with Paro on my side and her partner HAT on the other. They had just finished their semis.

oops!! now today I face them in the finals. Me and my partner aren't regular combination in Doubles. However, Paro and HAT are a regular combination and represented Uni also. Now Paro is so good that she plays in the men's doubles..

Grrrrr that doesn't mean if i lose i will be stigmatized for losing to her. She is damn good. Whereas her partner HAT is the most competitive guy in the whole campus. He would hate to lose to even a sparrow. Man!!! he smashes .. phewww!!!.

The match is just 1 hour away. Lets hope not too many people turn up ... well losing when ur seeded one ain't nice .. he he he.

See the Confidence ... hey!! wait... enough of .. losing right ..Gotta Kill Bill .. Revenge .. :P

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by JAY @ 7:18 PM |Show/Add (13) comments|

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Baptism...by ire.
Sunday, September 24, 2006

Its been late to put it here. The dorm naming ceremony was over like 2 months back.However, we have been joined by two exchange students Fabian and Christopher. Two days back we conducted the "Story session" (on which the dorm names are based) for the two.

This is the draft that I had prepared for this years dorm naming ceremony. We have to make certain changes for the two new exotic inhabitants of our dorm cause we don't feel we can subject them to such a rustic and sadistic pleasure of ours.

The Draft

Maxi as the God's own thundering voice :
"We residents of Dorm 17 , welcome everyone to the most coveted and respected ceremony of our Dorm. Dorm 17 over the years has seen its transition from being Swarga Satrah (the heaven seventeen) to the Dorm of Love and now to an inflection point Of being the Dorm of lust. Now, as the baton has to be passed to the new batch of 17 shockers we have gathered to bless the noobs with dorm names. Dorm names not only represent a tag but it is the identity of the ones existence and oozes property of the orgasmic pleasure that being a WIMWIAN provides to its students. Everyone has carried the Dorm Name with pride.. and hope the next batch of our warriors do the same."

"I hereby Formally announce the ceremony open."

Steps to the glory and pseudo intellectual tranquility:-

Step 1: Bows

Step 2: (Rubby exemplifies) I formally known as .......... today in this auspicious day ....announce that my name would be " " henceforth. True to the "....." tradition of the Dorm 17 takes the oath that i will carry the dorm name with pride rest of my life as a WIMWIAN.

Step 3: water to be poured on the feet (of dorm God).


Step 4: Bows in all direction to respect the presence of omnipresent Almighty.
Step 5: Proudly present (LOUDLY) ur name ot the dorm God and bow three times .

The stigma and the stigmatized were :-

Prateeek = Lotion

Siddhartha = Monty

Himanshu = Rusky

Tarun = Silo

Sourjo = Volvo

Vivek = Pyro

Apbhramaya = Auntie (now has been changed to be a less pinching name)

Garjun = Bubbles

Amit = jhalak

Jugal = Cryo

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by JAY @ 5:04 PM |Show/Add (5) comments|

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Another day of Joy and Jay
Sunday, May 28, 2006

It was 6:30 am .. birds were making noise outside.. and i had just finished my "convo" and was bout to sleep.. then.. a flash of hand.. hits the jug and it falls on the bed.. water everywhere .. my Laptop :((.

I do whatever my rush of blood tells me to do..

I let it dry and stare at it pathetically.. my head spinning fr the amount of work i have to do in next week... damn cant do my "1 am chat stuff" :P and yeah a cash crunch.. i may lose the laptop ..

but yeah i cant see what is to be done wth a Laptop + water spillage nor can i get from online forum. see how grave the situation is!!!!!

and as I stay there still and confused .. suddenly.. i clutch my chest and wince in pain.(oh!! it was bak.. the chest pain.. its been 4 yrs.. it hits me.. being a medical xpert of the family .. he he .. neva told anyone else. BUT WHY NOW?). I
open my palm and check those dark lines again and the big breakage in there.The breakage suggests like somethng drastic to happen at around this time in my life...may be the time has come to say gudbye.. But some Palmist suggested its not the lifeline one .. it shows the mental condition .. so like i wd go insane.. but, that wont b a palpable change only 30 % i kno now dont consider me insane.. peanuts.. yep.

I have been in messier situations but this ranks among the top.. and when i am in messier situations, two thngs happen to me:-

1. i get creative thought(don start throwing laptops fr creativity)

2. i think of sleeping my ass off.

So, it was simple.. 1st ting 1st... I SLEPT.

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by JAY @ 1:24 PM |Show/Add (4) comments|

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welcome to mumbai : part I
Saturday, April 29, 2006

"maa kassam!! blade bhi rakhta hoon" (swear on my mom !! I keep blades too )

and then he started to thrash the gillete ready saver pack to the side fence of the railway bridge. I turned my head and walked away in the anticipation of something ominous.

I had barely walked 10 steps that I reached the end of the bridge and realised that this is the wrong end of the bridge.The thought of going to the other end and passing through the "danger zone" gave a hard on to the weakling within me.

(this was only the 2nd day of my office.. I had left the office early at around 7 pm today it was relatively hassle free journey from andheri to mumbai central.. however, it was not to remain so. I got down from the train and stepped towards the railway bridge. As I approached the bridge, I could listen to some noise and ppl screaming on the bridge. When I reached the spot, I witnessed two men in a duel.. others were watching and screaming "hit that bastard .. everyone..come on .. hit him" but no one dared to touch the guy. I was standing there quite and amused, when a woman cried "someone take care of the guy... pleeeease, he was doin somethng to that girl" and soon a few more men joined the battlefield .. sensing odds turned against him the villain of my story let go everyone and stood there with head high ... like a "batista" in the ring. I was watching him and for a second our eyes met. He was a man surely with nothing to lose and had a vampire face, who can only suck the society.)

I turned my back and started to move towards the danger spot. By that time, Friday the 13th guy was wielding the blade.. population density around him had reduced.When I reached near him he was kicking his bags and potli.

Soon, I cud listen the sound of metal. He leaped towards the floor and lifted a scissor.

He held the scissor high in air and gave a war cry ..

noone was eager to look at him and I walked passed him slowly... his eyes chased me to the dinner table.. geez.

Welcome to Mumbai.

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