The Ferrari Experience!

I got seated in the black and yellow Ferrari. Schumacher slightly chuckled before he kick started his monster. Although I was too busy shuffling through the print out pages of my presentation, his chuckling made me feel slightly uneasy. Well, I anyway ignored it thinking that he must have been delighted to see a celebrity (!) like me riding on his vehicle (height of self admiration?). Sitting on the rear seat of his ‘Ferrari’ I was completely oblivious of the fact that this was going to be one of the most memorable (!) rides of my life. Oh btw before you start doubting the authenticity of this post [and start suspecting the (in)credibility of my stardom(!)] let me clarify that we are talking about Tiwari ji, the auto rickshaw driver who had a misconception that he was Michael Schumacher’s third cousin. (Obviously the Ferrari in question is the Auto Rickshaw of which Mr. Tiwari is proud owner.)

No sooner did the ride start, Tiwari ji turned ON ‘Radio City’ at a decibel level good enough to shake up Kumbhakarna from hibernation. Preparing for a presentation [for which I was not prepared at all] with Chainya Chainya in the background was just impossible. On a special request, Tiwari ji agreed to reduce the volume by a few tenths of decibels. Not that it was of much help but it still gave me some psychological satisfaction.

Tiwari ji was in full form now. Chhainya Chhainyya had perked him up and he was suddenly driving aggressively to take on the 10 ton loaded cement truck in his stride. Shivers ran through my spine the moment I realized that Tiwari ji’s Ferrari [and I] just escaped a brutal brush off by the truck driver. Running in the right most lane on his three wheeler TukTuk [oh I am sorry, I meant ‘Ferrari’) Tiwari ji was hell bent not to give way to any other vehicle on the road [ego issue?] I was sweating already… I sneaked the print outs back into my bag’s pocket and started waiting for Tiwari ji to slow down. With Radio City playing Raj Kapoor’s ‘Ek Din mit jaayega maati ke mol’ in the background now, I was almost convinced that Tiwari ji would have partnered with Radio City for OUR journey to heaven [well I guess hell would suit him the best!).

Suddenly there was a pothole on the road and Tiwari [gosh… I did not feel like calling him Tiwari ‘ji’ any more) suddenly lifted his butt from his seat! ‘DHAMM!’ was a sound. But it was too late to realize that Tiwari did not give me enough notice to raise my back from the seat. I was restless by now. I just wanted to get off the ‘Ferrari’ that very net moment. But my ego pulled me back. ‘Gosh… am I afraid of an auto rickshaw ride? I am most certainly going to be a laughing stock if I ever told anyone that I was afraid of riding on an auto rickshaw’, chain of thoughts passed my mind. I mumbled something and made it a point to hang around and hold the iron side bar tightly. In any case the last thing now I wanted to do was distract Tiwari, the Schumacher from driving and face another ‘DHAMM!’.

If a good thing always comes to an end, a bad thing does come to an end too. I reached my destination [Finally!]… but not before Tiwari ‘ji’ did enough damage to his Ferrari [and to my ego]. ‘Bhaiyya hamraa naam hai P. K. Tiwari. Agar aap ko kal phir jaana ho to hamkaa mobile phunvaa par kaal de dijiyega, hum aa jaayenge. Tanik hamraa number likhiye na…’

Damn!!

Can you?

German colleague: Hey why is no one picking up phone in Bangalore office?
Fundoo: Oh yeah, they have declared a day off today.
German colleague: Really? Why? Good Friday is only tomorrow. Today is Thursday!
Fundoo: Well, that’s because there have been some riots in the city.
German colleague: Riots? Oh My God! What happened? Terrorist attack?
Fundoo: Ah! Come one… nothing like that buddy, take it easy. *trying to avoid answering*
German colleague: But I had an important conference call with folks back in India! *somewhat worried*
Fundoo: Hey don’t worry mate. Everything will be ok in a couple of days.
German colleague: But what has happened! *now he is being very persistent*
Fundoo: Well… one of the famous celebrities, Raj Kumar died yesterday.
German colleague: Hmmm… *eagerly waiting for further explanation*
Fundoo: *Quiet. His facial expression says, ‘yeah, that’s all’*
German colleague: So?
Fundoo: So what? So there was a riot.
German colleague: Whatttttt?!! But what’s connection?
Fundoo: Umm… Err… mmmmmmm… well…

I can’t explain this to my German colleague. Can you?

*Ashamed*

ABCV - American Born Confused Videsi

Location: McDonald’s counter somewhere in the US

Customer 1: One veggie burger and coke please.
McDonald sales boy: Would you like to have some fries with this sir?
Customer 1: Yes please

Customer 2: Three Burgers and two strawberry milkshakes please.
McDonald sales boy: Would you like to have some fries with this sir?
Customer 2: No thanks

Customer 3: …… some order ……
McDonald sales boy: Would you like to have some fries with this sir?
Customer 3: Yes please

..
..
..

Customer N: …… some order ……
McDonald sales boy: Would you like to have some fries with this sir?
Customer 3: Yes please

Customer N+1: Two large fries please
McDonald sales boy: Would you like to have some fries with this sir?
Customer N+1: Duh!!

The profound American dumbness?

Some things just don't change!

If you haven’t laughed hard for a while, I recommend you tune into Doordarshan’s live coverage of the parliament proceedings. I am sure you’d have more fun watching our respected(!) politicians in action than some class performances in a mindless Govinda movie. Now if you don’t trust me read the testimony below and you’d be left with no choice but to agree with me. Oh and btw this post is not meant to sound derogatory to any political party in particular. All of them are alike. They have achieved such a low moral nadir that it is impossible to derogate them any further.

The funniest part on the parliament telecast is to see the opposition party in action. Opposition bole to those who oppose… regardless of a proposal being good or bad that is! If finance minister brings in a harsh budget, the opposition says the ruling party doesn’t care about the common men. And if the budget happens to be a good budget, the opposition says the ruling party is trying to be populist. Ruling party brings in women’s reservation bill. The opposition opposes (obviously. How can we forget the definition of ‘opposition’ so soon?) The tables turn and opposition comes to power the next time. The same party passes women’s reservation bill and claims some brownie points for being so considerate about country’s women!

Parties fights election furiously against each other. They ooze venom at every possible public forum. They never leave any opportunity of mudslinging each other. And after elections they become best of friends. After all ministerial position (read opportunity to make millions) is at stake!

A journalist manages to records misdeeds of a minister on a CD. The minister in question makes every possible effort to not let this video recording be shown to public. The Supreme Court agrees. Why? Wasn’t his attempt to not let others see the CD tantamount to hiding some of his wrong doings? Why would the minister be afraid of letting people see this and come out clean otherwise?

A high profile minister’s son kills Jessica in broad day light. The eye witnesses confirm the son’s wrongdoings. The son immediately flees. The powerful minister manages to buy 7 long years and ensures legal system’s mockery. In the mean time all the witnesses change their statements (suddenly!). A witness on one fine day tells the court that Mr. A is the killer. The same witness after 7 years says that Mr. A is not killer (anymore!). And the court believes the witness (yet again!). Many questions remain unanswered though. The question is why does the court not agree to the witness earlier and why it agrees to the witness now? If the minister’s son was innocent then why did he flee in first place? Isn’t witness’s memory supposed to be better when the killing had just happened than after 7 years of the incident? Has the corruption not spares The Supreme Court of the country too?

The foreign minister is accused of corruption. He loses his ministry. That’s all! Shouldn’t a person disrespectful to one of the most prestigious leadership positions of the country be entitled to a more stringent punishment? They are supposed to lead by example but the only example they present is of corruption. I suggest they should be hanged to death. But unfortunately all that can be expected is a committee being set up to ‘investigate’ the issue. The committee will take some 15 years to table the report. And if the report would be accepted only if it is suitable to the honorable(!) minister (if he is still alive that is).

Dawood Ibrahim is a don. And I don’t say this alone, Interpol says the same too. He is accused of almost every possible heinous crime that one can think of. Our dear(!) Mr. Ram Jethmalani (who also happens to be a minister in the current government) would be Mr. Dawood Ibrahim’s lawyer!! He says it is his profession to defend his ‘clients’. I would say it is the government’s profession to nab the criminal who calls it is his profession to defend a criminal. Does Mr. Jethmalani have no moral ground? Or does he still think that a man is innocent till he is proven guilty? He doesn’t think that a person called criminal by the Interpol is guilty yet. I am sure Mr. Jethmalani is going to become a rich man soon. Mine and yours and millions of tax payers’ money that is in Dawood’s pockets today would soon find its way to Mr. Jethmalani’s account. (Unless he prefers cash only! :p) Kudos Mr. Professional a.k.a. Mr. Jethmalani.

Well well… guess I have vented out enough frustration here. High time I cut it short.

Some things just don't change. Phew!

The King of Bloggywood!

I had this weird thought this morning… Imagine if your Phirang colleague walks up to you some day and asks you to explain meaning of some of the bollywood lyrics? May be she visited an Indian restaurant and heard some bollywood number there? Being curious from birth she suddenly becomes interested in understanding what she just heard and starts bugging you! What do you do?

Say, she heard “Chadh gaya oopar re, atariya pe lautan kabootar re…” and asked you what that meant? Damn… what do you say? A piegaon climbs on the roof top and…? Duh!

Ok, think of her bumping into the Govinda number; “Jab tak rahega samosey me aloo… tera rahoonga o’ meri Shaloo” How do you explain the lyrics? I will remain yours Shaloo... (but only!) as long as potato remains in samosa? And btw how do you explain him what a samosa is?

And how about, “Goli maat bheje me… bheja shor karta hai… bheje ki sunega to marega kallu… tu karega doosra bharega kallu… mamaa kallu mamaa.” – Shoot in the brain, brain is making noise? [Hey Ram… koi een imported items ko bachao!]

If you do not have anything better to do in life and wish to contribute to this madness, you are most welcome! The participant with the highest number of contributions would be declared The King of Bloggywood!

Hurry up… offer open till the blog lasts. :p

You've got NO m@il

Tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk tuk… tadaak…. tuk tuk tuk… tadaak…

Login and password entered. The yahoo mail page was taking ages to load. 4 complete seconds to be precise! (Ok that was an exaggerated version, just to indicate the degree of desperation I had to check my emails then.) The page finally loaded in the browser. First to load was the Shaadi.com advertisement that had occupied more than half the visible area on the screen. Now I would generally not care for what loads in that advertising space but this damsel figuring in the ad was beautiful! It was just impossible to ignore those looks. Khair, the title of the ad said, “Looking for a life partner?” and the only thing I could think of was, “No thank you, I am looking for my emails.”. After 9 seconds of agony(!) my email page loaded. But what the heck! All I could see was “Welcome, Fundoo! You have 0 unread messages”.

Zero messages? What the ****?!! Haan?!! No emails? Not even a forwarded junk? No no… I don’t believe this. Something must be wrong. Probably Yahoo server is down? But on second thought, common sense dawned on me. One can not log in if the server were down. Duh! Oh may be the page shown on my machine is a stale one, from cache memory. F5… F5… ‘Refresh’… ‘Refresh’… the outcome? The same old, “Welcome, Fundoo! You have 0 unread messages”. This was frustrating.

*I sighed* How come I didn’t get even a single email even after having subscribed to as many as 8 yahoogroups? Where have those software pros (supposedly pros that is!); who spend six out of 12 months on bench and who keep forwarding silliest of attachments without even a second thought to the poor recipients, disappeared? How come I didn’t get even a single email even after spamming so many mailboxes with my junk, long, boring to death forwards? Not even a return email to take revenge? What about those Ganesha and Krishna prayers that keep floating in the cyberspace… the ones which if you don’t forward to 10 other mailboxes can harm you? (Not that I ever read such emails but what the heck… these are good for spamming mailboxes of folks on whom you would have carried a grudge for a long time.) And what happened to those santa banta jokes? Those were my last hopes.

My hopes were trashed. The ‘0’ prevailed the whole day. All I ended up doing that day was overusing the F5 key of the keyboard just to find the same old screen and kept waiting to hear, ‘You’ve Got M@ail”! *sigh*

Does this happen to you too?? *Tell me yes... plssss. Let me feel better. *

Tum bin...

Year-books were being filled up ardently. Gifts were being exchanged heartily. Old times were being remembered fondly. Corners of the eyes were being wiped silently. Parting ways after the two long years of ‘jugalbandi’ wasn’t easy. It felt as if every corner of the class room was crying to see him go… the empty paraphernalia of once rocking hostel suddenly had a graveyard like peace… the 3 common bathrooms that used remain busy at almost all times suddenly had no occupants… the canteen where he had spend umpteen number of hours suddenly was craving for occupants.

Hum was taking away a zillion memories. The waste papers on which he must have scribbled a million notes… the broken sharpener which had been his companion since class X… the broken glass of the ventilator window that used to work as a natural air conditioner in his hostel room… the old water bucket that he had used N number of times to drench birthday boys… the remote control of old Videocon TV in the lobby whose volume button never worked… the cricket gear which he loved more than his life… the wardrobe whose lock was never existent… the fan regulator that could regulate fan only in binary mode… and Tum, who by now had become more than a part of him.

A chain of thoughts caught him in a whirl of emotions… He knew that he’ll be away in an alien country very soon… he’ll have a high profile job… he’ll have a handsome dollar salary… he’ll have a company sponsored car… he’ll have a plush apartment in the middle of Manhattan… and… he’ll also have that vacuum created by Tum’s absence!

"Does parting always have to be so difficult?” he asked himself.