Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Walking out to good health
There are all kinds of walks that one can take to keep in shape. There is the evening walk, the morning walk, the treadmill walk, the brisk walk and so on and so forth. But all these are for the middle class pansies.
Now, what the Real men are into these days is the mother of all walks...the Walk Out.
Yesterday, the entire opposition in the Malappuram Panchayat walked out because the ruling guys were seriously enthused about the nuclear deal and passed a resolution on it. (The long-term implications of the resolution on the national and international front is expected to be cataclysmic.) After about five minutes (the normal time period for which the moral outrage of a healthy Kerala politician lasts), our troopers walked back in...only to walk out few minutes later because the ruling boys went into resolution overdrive and passed one against Jeevan and his now-famous quest for a Secular education. Now, that is some quality exercise.
I am sure that the day is not far when Jai Hind TV (quality entertainment by Kerala Pradesh Congress Committee)will have an exercise segment with our venerable Opposition Leader extolling the positive effects of the Walk Out on cholesterol and blood pressure. Of course, the other half of the programme will be taken up by Mr. Hybi Eden (the Young Turk that leads the not so Youth Congress)demonstrating more rigorous exercises for the youth,including the right way to exercise that back muscle by pushing hard against the barricade in front of Secretariat and developing those biceps with some quality stone pelting. Kairali TV (CPM + Mammootty = bad entertainment) had an idea for a similiar programme on the health benefits of the Party's mode of operation. But apparently somebody at the Information and Broadcasting Ministry told a puzzled Mr. Pinarayi Vijayan that a man is not very healthy after he is dead.
Now, what the Real men are into these days is the mother of all walks...the Walk Out.
Yesterday, the entire opposition in the Malappuram Panchayat walked out because the ruling guys were seriously enthused about the nuclear deal and passed a resolution on it. (The long-term implications of the resolution on the national and international front is expected to be cataclysmic.) After about five minutes (the normal time period for which the moral outrage of a healthy Kerala politician lasts), our troopers walked back in...only to walk out few minutes later because the ruling boys went into resolution overdrive and passed one against Jeevan and his now-famous quest for a Secular education. Now, that is some quality exercise.
I am sure that the day is not far when Jai Hind TV (quality entertainment by Kerala Pradesh Congress Committee)will have an exercise segment with our venerable Opposition Leader extolling the positive effects of the Walk Out on cholesterol and blood pressure. Of course, the other half of the programme will be taken up by Mr. Hybi Eden (the Young Turk that leads the not so Youth Congress)demonstrating more rigorous exercises for the youth,including the right way to exercise that back muscle by pushing hard against the barricade in front of Secretariat and developing those biceps with some quality stone pelting. Kairali TV (CPM + Mammootty = bad entertainment) had an idea for a similiar programme on the health benefits of the Party's mode of operation. But apparently somebody at the Information and Broadcasting Ministry told a puzzled Mr. Pinarayi Vijayan that a man is not very healthy after he is dead.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Bridal Care Unit to the rescue
Parked on the roadside at the turning from the Vanchiyoor overbridge to West Fort in Trivandrum is a red van (the kind used as ambulances)with Red Rose Beauty Care written in huge letters on it and the picture of a caucasian female with a post-orgasmic smile having her lips painted bright red. It is the capital city's one and only..wait for it...Bridal Care Unit.
That van gives me palpitations every time I pass by it. It gives you the feeling that some herbal disaster could happen at anytime in some corner of the city. What if that van doesn't get there in time? What if some hapless lass overdosed on the wrong shade of mascara and is too depressed to dial the emergency number?
I have heart attacks on the days I don't see the van there. Which near-nuptial dame choked under the strain of incorrectly organised gold chains around her neck? Were they able to resuscitate her in time? Did some home remedy go horribly horribly wrong leaving the would-be bride bleached for life?
I was reassured only after I saw the ER team behind the whole thing in a pre-movie ad. There it was..the ubiquitous red van screeching in after the bride's friends called in a case of pre-marital low-self esteem. Out jumped four dames in uniform sarees with a serious Air India hangover. The ensuing slow-motion walk with determined faces and loaded make-up kits sort of redefined goose bumps for me.
The rest of the ad was Quentin Tarantino on a high-intensity diet of warm milk and boiled rice;disturbing scenes of pouting lips and fluttering eyelids being given the once over. The most graphic scene was the groom having a stroke when the bride walks in and one half of his face slips into a coma.(In what can only assumed to be a Hitchcockian touch, the babes face is never shown in its entirety...she is all red lips and plucked eyebrows.) Frozen grimace marries red lips and perfectly lined eyebrows.
There it was ladies and gentlemen, your perfect happily ever after. The Bridal Care Unit had saved the day once again. Thank you Bridal Care Unit... I will remember you the next time someone tells me that it is a progressive society.
That van gives me palpitations every time I pass by it. It gives you the feeling that some herbal disaster could happen at anytime in some corner of the city. What if that van doesn't get there in time? What if some hapless lass overdosed on the wrong shade of mascara and is too depressed to dial the emergency number?
I have heart attacks on the days I don't see the van there. Which near-nuptial dame choked under the strain of incorrectly organised gold chains around her neck? Were they able to resuscitate her in time? Did some home remedy go horribly horribly wrong leaving the would-be bride bleached for life?
I was reassured only after I saw the ER team behind the whole thing in a pre-movie ad. There it was..the ubiquitous red van screeching in after the bride's friends called in a case of pre-marital low-self esteem. Out jumped four dames in uniform sarees with a serious Air India hangover. The ensuing slow-motion walk with determined faces and loaded make-up kits sort of redefined goose bumps for me.
The rest of the ad was Quentin Tarantino on a high-intensity diet of warm milk and boiled rice;disturbing scenes of pouting lips and fluttering eyelids being given the once over. The most graphic scene was the groom having a stroke when the bride walks in and one half of his face slips into a coma.(In what can only assumed to be a Hitchcockian touch, the babes face is never shown in its entirety...she is all red lips and plucked eyebrows.) Frozen grimace marries red lips and perfectly lined eyebrows.
There it was ladies and gentlemen, your perfect happily ever after. The Bridal Care Unit had saved the day once again. Thank you Bridal Care Unit... I will remember you the next time someone tells me that it is a progressive society.
Monday, July 21, 2008
This is the end...my beautiful friend
I screwed up.
(That is a a beautiful sentence. I like that sentence for the same reason i like Oceans 11 or You’ve Got Mail...functionality. You see..it sets out with a purpose and accomplishes just that. No frills, no bullhorns on the sides going all out, no small bells and little pink ribbons all over it. It doesnt latch on to some cute phrase that happens to be around and make a fool of itself. It means to convey something and does just that ¬- some amount of self-debasement, a sense of irony and a sort of coming-to-terms with a few cosmic constants.)
So..I screwed up.The how, when and where of it will probably be known only to some middle-aged uptight prick poring over his paper knowing for certain that his alimentary canal will rise to the occasion only when he has tortured himself enough with it to satisfy his sadomasochistic outlook of life. But the limited impact zone of the error is little compensation to the narrator who is looking over his shoulder at small mushroom cloud spreading over his personal past. The shock waves have shredded the cloak of invincibility that used to reach from the bloated ego to the unsure feet. The gaping holes have exposed rotten green flesh. No longer the dirty past of cocksureness to fall back on. Mortality, that dirty little bastard, is sitting on the roadside with a smug face as I pass on.
(A long drag. A tunnel of smoke. poooofff)
Fuck.
(That is a a beautiful sentence. I like that sentence for the same reason i like Oceans 11 or You’ve Got Mail...functionality. You see..it sets out with a purpose and accomplishes just that. No frills, no bullhorns on the sides going all out, no small bells and little pink ribbons all over it. It doesnt latch on to some cute phrase that happens to be around and make a fool of itself. It means to convey something and does just that ¬- some amount of self-debasement, a sense of irony and a sort of coming-to-terms with a few cosmic constants.)
So..I screwed up.The how, when and where of it will probably be known only to some middle-aged uptight prick poring over his paper knowing for certain that his alimentary canal will rise to the occasion only when he has tortured himself enough with it to satisfy his sadomasochistic outlook of life. But the limited impact zone of the error is little compensation to the narrator who is looking over his shoulder at small mushroom cloud spreading over his personal past. The shock waves have shredded the cloak of invincibility that used to reach from the bloated ego to the unsure feet. The gaping holes have exposed rotten green flesh. No longer the dirty past of cocksureness to fall back on. Mortality, that dirty little bastard, is sitting on the roadside with a smug face as I pass on.
(A long drag. A tunnel of smoke. poooofff)
Fuck.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Not my balls honey..
Why is rape Rape? A question that i had been trying to resolve for quite some time, but the solution to which seemed quite elusive to the kind of reasoning i was following. No, It was not a "guilty until proven innocent" scenario. I was not trying to find some reason to implicate someone whom the public has already lynched. I was willing to accept rape as natural turn of events if my reasoning took me to that end. But then it came to me, a clarity of vison. And the verdict is...'guilty as charged'. String him up from the nearest tree. Die you cretin Die!
I started...as always..from the absence of rape in the animal kingdom. No lion forces himself on a lioness because he knows for sure that his balls would be strung across the nearest bush. On the other hand when the strongest dude with the richest mane walks down and sniffs the nether side of his choice she is one welcoming bitch...why? survival of the fittest silly!!
This is the concept that turns on its head once we get into human 'society.' In what can only be termed as a gendercide or gender cleansing, the female of the species was wiped out and replaced by..women.
Now..all ye people out there who have grown used to understanding themselves as women dont get me wrong here...I am only saying that there is much more to you than you have been allowed think of yourselves as. You have been deceived by the male populace and brain-washed members of your own species into thinking that you dont have the one thing that makes life worth living...choice. Oh well...yes, the bra-burning lot created the modern-age woman who makes her own 'choice.' The woman who 'chooses' to work hard so that she can drive a car instead of travelling by bus and get pinched in the ass. The woman who 'chooses' divorce cos her husband went and screwed her best friend (lucky bastard!). That is not choice my dears...that is just a higher level of deception. The same deception that makes you live a life-style that deteriorates you physically and makes you mentally sub-serviant. One and a half times the muscular strength, my ass. Say that to a bull-elephant trying to get on top of an uninviting female... there will be blood my dear friends; high chance it will be the fore-skin rather than the hymen. Real choice is when a male knows that it is not worth loosing his balls trying to screw a female who is not exactly looking for sex, rather than any fancy notion of "gentlemen respecting a womans integrity and her personal space."
Disclaimer - This is no grand attempt to change the system. No way there is going to be a grand 'back to nature' revolution saving the femaler gender. Just letting everybody know that this is the way things are and we are pretty much screwed till the giant people-eating cockroaches come from Ursula Minor and eat all the people.
I started...as always..from the absence of rape in the animal kingdom. No lion forces himself on a lioness because he knows for sure that his balls would be strung across the nearest bush. On the other hand when the strongest dude with the richest mane walks down and sniffs the nether side of his choice she is one welcoming bitch...why? survival of the fittest silly!!
This is the concept that turns on its head once we get into human 'society.' In what can only be termed as a gendercide or gender cleansing, the female of the species was wiped out and replaced by..women.
Now..all ye people out there who have grown used to understanding themselves as women dont get me wrong here...I am only saying that there is much more to you than you have been allowed think of yourselves as. You have been deceived by the male populace and brain-washed members of your own species into thinking that you dont have the one thing that makes life worth living...choice. Oh well...yes, the bra-burning lot created the modern-age woman who makes her own 'choice.' The woman who 'chooses' to work hard so that she can drive a car instead of travelling by bus and get pinched in the ass. The woman who 'chooses' divorce cos her husband went and screwed her best friend (lucky bastard!). That is not choice my dears...that is just a higher level of deception. The same deception that makes you live a life-style that deteriorates you physically and makes you mentally sub-serviant. One and a half times the muscular strength, my ass. Say that to a bull-elephant trying to get on top of an uninviting female... there will be blood my dear friends; high chance it will be the fore-skin rather than the hymen. Real choice is when a male knows that it is not worth loosing his balls trying to screw a female who is not exactly looking for sex, rather than any fancy notion of "gentlemen respecting a womans integrity and her personal space."
Disclaimer - This is no grand attempt to change the system. No way there is going to be a grand 'back to nature' revolution saving the femaler gender. Just letting everybody know that this is the way things are and we are pretty much screwed till the giant people-eating cockroaches come from Ursula Minor and eat all the people.
Monday, March 10, 2008
At the age of 25
At the age of 25, driven men and women around the world are pursuing academic goals, working for a cause, contributing to the economy, holding up social values, obeying the moral code, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. But, if asked what is it that drives them, most of them are suddenly faced with an immense vacuum which they try to fill up with words like academic pursuits, the cause, economy, social values, moral code etc.
On the other hand, there is another breed of men, such as yours truly…
He knows exactly what drives him… What gives him focus and clarity of vision…What motivates him to wake up each day…And what makes hard work appear tolerable…
Caffeine, Nicotine and Alcohol
On the other hand, there is another breed of men, such as yours truly…
He knows exactly what drives him… What gives him focus and clarity of vision…What motivates him to wake up each day…And what makes hard work appear tolerable…
Caffeine, Nicotine and Alcohol
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Ode to the Baby Boomers
The generation that produced hippies, made pot sound cool and gave the world Pink Floyd...oh, the world was a different place in the 60's! Baby Boomers rock!!
(Note: These are the musings of a post-Liberalisation Indian who chose a diet of Joseph Heller and Cold War literature over Cable-fed Micheal Jackson in the 90's. Any notion of the author as being a white American male in his 30's is quite understandable)
(Note: These are the musings of a post-Liberalisation Indian who chose a diet of Joseph Heller and Cold War literature over Cable-fed Micheal Jackson in the 90's. Any notion of the author as being a white American male in his 30's is quite understandable)
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