Top Gun !

“Almost all my friends are married and many of them have kids. Which to be honest is terrible! And my friends haven’t even turned 30 yet. What is wrong with them? To be honest, as much as I like these guys, I don’t think I can go through another weekend session with them discussing which playschool is the best & how difficult it is to wake up their wife when the baby starts crying because they don’t know what to do when their kid begins wailing so loudly that it disturbs the grateful dead. How does that change my life?"

"Whatever happened to discussing soccer and cars? How do I make these guys un-boring? Don’t they remember the good old days when all of us used to go to a pub and strike up conversations with women we found interesting? Oh, I just remembered, the wives probably wouldn’t agree to that any more. Argh!”

I didn’t even know all that frustration was pent up and quietly folded away hidden in some crevice deep within me until a long lost friend of mine, henceforth referred to as Mr. C (since he was a bit of a Casanova in our college days) brought up the topic of weekends since he was staying over at my place for a few days and wanted to know what the plan was for Saturday night. As I struggled to come to grips with what I had just said Mr. C burst out laughing. “You lucky idiot” was all he could say for the next few minutes as he proceeded to fall off his chair laughing while I was trying to get my blood pressure under control.

“You do know youre sitting on a goldmine, don’t you”

“Don’t be daft! Considering I’m young (sic), single and eligible, how could having dinner with family guys with their wives and kids on a Saturday night be good?”

“Watch and learn Mr Neil, watch and learn”

On that cryptic note we ended our discussion and I was left shaking my head confident that the once smooth talking suave woman magnet had lost it now that he was on the wrong side of 25.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As we made our way from the parking lot towards the fancy restaurant, I was a little tense. I knew I had to ensure that Mr. C didn’t do anything stupid which he was more than highly capable of. And considering that he thought being single and hanging out with married folk on a Saturday night was some sort of hidden oil well, I had more than fair reason to suspect his sanity.

“Ok I know you despise kids and you can’t stand domesticated husbands or their good two shoes wives but please keep in mind that these are my oldest friends and I have virtually grown up with them. I like them and more importantly they like me. There aren’t too many people who like me and I would at least like to keep that number a constant. So be nice! I really mean it.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Im always nice” he said with a devilish smile that had my gut plunge through the floor as if it had just dropped anchor. Like a lab rat that’s been dropped into a snakes pit for dinner I accepted my fate and started saying my prayers.

The next half an hour or so passed by pretty smoothly and I was relieved that nothing outward had happened. Mr. C regaled us with surprisingly funny stories that didn’t embarrass anyone at the table which was something new for me as the stories I usually heard from him would’ve turned even the roughest and toughest of sailors pink. Eventually the parents stopped paying too much attention to their kids and started relaxing a little when one of the moms realized her kid was missing. Before she could get into panic mode Mr. C jumped out of his seat and offered to go find the kid. Like the true gentleman that he wasn’t.

“He’s such a great guy, do you think he will be interested in my sister?” asked one of the women as I did everything to prevent rolling my eyes and uttering a sigh of disbelief. What in the world? Everything just seemed so wrong! Why wasn’t I good enough for her sister who was very cute but unfortunately equally dumb. A couple of minutes later I excused myself as I realized that everyone was back to having a good time and had totally forgotten about the missing child and child hunter.

I spotted him quite a few tables away engaged in deep conversation with 3 more than pretty women with the kid on his lap. Knowing Mr. C I put my detective hat on and slyly made my way to a nearby table and covered my face with the menu and proceeded to do my level best to eavesdrop. I figured he probably knew the women and I was glad I could put my conspiracy theories to rest when I heard his asking for one of the women for her number. Maybe she was an old friend and they had lost each other’s number. Had it been anybody else I would’ve accepted the explanation. Maybe something was cooking. I had to get to the bottom of this and quickly retraced my steps almost all the way back to my table before walking up to him and saying

“There you are. I was worried where you were. Are these your friends? Have I met them before?”

(I was distinctly aware of the fact that I was mumbling and making a royal fool of myself but it didn’t matter. The fact that he was getting the phone number of an attractive woman, old friend or not, bothered me because, well I don’t know why.)

“Oh no, I just met these lovely ladies. (Neil’s note : Cue blushes all around) Our little champ, David, wandered to this table and just wouldn’t leave them. You know how stubborn he can be. So I had to sit down with him for a while and got talking with these very nice young women. Michelle here works with ….”

“I really think we need to go as David’s mom must be getting worried. It was nice meeting you ladies” was all I could say as I led Mr. C away by the arm as he tried his best to ensure ‘David’ was also following us. I’m not certain but I think one of the women made the call me hand sigh to Mr. C and gave him a wink. There definitely was a wink.

“First of all the kids name is not David. I don’t know what his name is but I am sure it’s not David. Second of all, did you use the kid to flirt with those women? Shame on you! I thought you had some morals.”

As the three of us headed reached our table we realized that my friends had paid the bill and had gone outside to grab an ice cream from the next door shop. Great! They forgot about the 2 of us and come to think of it, they had even forgotten the kid. I explained to Mr C that everyone must be outside and we should also go get some ice cream if we wanted but was stopped mid sentence by the return of the wicked grin.

“Listen, you remember how I told you that you were sitting on a goldmine? Well this is it (Neil’s note : while pointing to the little kid who was looking extremely lost).Can you tell me a more perfect wingman than him? He won’t say a word and yet he will melt the hearts of women and give you the perfect chance to start up a conversation with anyone that you want to. And best of all he isn’t drunk so he won’t do anything stupid."

"But keep in mind you need to make it clear to them straight off the bat that you aren’t the dad and that you’re just a regular bloke who likes kids. Women have a soft corner for guys who like kids. Trust me on this. It’s got me a lot of phone numbers. Ok maybe a little more than phone numbers. (Neil’s note : There’s that grin again) And don’t worry, you can’t get caught because no one knows about it. I’m not stupid to reveal my secrets to the world by telling everybody or blogging about it. ”

I didn’t know what to say. Using poor innocent kids as bait seemed terrible. Then again if I never got caught I wouldn’t be wrong, would I? And I am not as bad as Mr. C, at least I would ensure that I got the kid’s name right if we going to be my wingman.

As we walked out to the ice cream munching and blissfully unaware friends of mine, I had to nod in agreement with Mr C’s closing statement “Bugger, to cut a long story short - Almost all your friends are married and many of them have kids. Which to be honest is wonderful!”

The greatest movie .....

The worst movie ever made was unfolding right in front of my eyes. Admittedly it had one of India’s hottest box office superstars who was fresh off the success of his recent blockbuster but that was no excuse for the disgrace of a movie that was bankrolled by his brother’s production house. This was one of those movies for which you wished you had long hair only because you would have an excuse to pull it out in sheer frustration. If the lead actor was smart he would’ve kept a punching bag covered with the posters of the movie outside each theatre and charged the people unfortunate and / or dumb enough to watch the entire movie, for a chance to take out all their pent up rage on the bag.



Surely no movie can be that bad you say and that it’s just a case of this writer being cranky because he spent Rs 175 on a not so great movie. Of course it was as bad as I am making it out to be. The storyline had so many massive holes that you could have flown a full strength squadron of our Indian Air Force right through it and they could’ve done so blindfolded. The effort that was put in by the actors compares to our cricketers when they play anywhere except the IPL. I wish I could say the music was the saving grace but then again I’m not a very good liar.



What makes a movie great is well fleshed out characters, a reasonably strong plot
backed by some powerful script writing, a good background score and a little of that mysterious X factor that will leave the movie lingering in the minds of the viewers long after they have walked out of the movie hall. I know of one such movie that fits the bill perfectly and I’m pretty sure that none of you have watched it. The plot treads the fine line between being really good and great and the characters are built into it marvellously. The emotions that they go through as the story progresses brings to the fore the element of storytelling which seems to have become something of a lost art in this age of visual effects. The musical score is a strangely overlooked component of movies but here we have one that rivals that of the artistic The House of Flying Daggers and even the epic Dark Knight.



Now I’m the sort who prefers to be surprised by an awesome randomly picked ‘unknown’ movie rather than a mainstream box office hit that everyone says is a must watch. Green Street Hooligans and This Is England are two out of the blue movies that have left me spellbound and if you see the movie which I am talking about I am pretty certain that you will added it to your personal faves list. There’s just one problem.



You can’t appreciate how the lead actors have done justice to their characters nor the incredible production value which includes some stunning panoramic settings which are a visual delight. The same hold true for the plot and in fact everything else. And it’s all down to laziness. You see, it’s the greatest movie that’s never been made. And it’s right between my ears.

Cant get no satisfaction (with perfection)

"Its the perfect job, I think I should go ahead and accept it. I am making the correct decision, right?" asked my more than moderately excited friend as we were munching on some popcorn at a fast food outlet during one of our regular weekend lazying around doing nothing sessions. I ignored the raised eyebrows of the people sitting next to us who suddenly started straining their ears to catch our conversation and asked my friend what makes the job so perfect.

"Well, first of all there is the work, it’s exactly what I have been wanting to do for a very long time. It’s definitely a huge step up from my current job profile and I'm sure that even though it will be challenging, I will be able to manage it rather well."

My Ok was a little more dragged out than usual which made my friend suspicious. "Plus there's all the other stuff. To be honest, saying that you are working in that company gets you a lot more respect than when you mention the name of our beloved employer. And then there are the perks"

"What perks?" I grunted while trying to chew on a mouthful of popcorn. "Well, there’s the taxi service that offers a free pick up and drop from your home and the timings are pretty flexible as well. And you don’t have to pay for anything that you want to eat within the campus. Which means that you get free fruit juice, soft drinks, chips, short eats and just about everything else. Add to that the fact that the work culture is great, you don’t need to come to office if you don’t have any work and you can hit the spacious gyms anytime you want to. The H.R team does a phenomenal job as well, they frequently organize team outings and actual fun filled sessions. Oh and then there’s the big incentive - the women there are rumoured to be prettier and smarter than in any other company. Now does that seal the deal or does that seal the deal, huh? So what do you say?"

"Don’t take it" I replied and had less than half a second to duck under the incoming popcorn that my friend spat out of his mouth in disbelief. "Bu... bu... but why?" he stammered in disbelief as more popcorn kept falling out of his mouth. Not a pretty sight to say the least.

"Its the perfect job. Hence you shouldn’t take it." Rather surprisingly he had some difficulty in comprehending what I was saying and I deliberately chewed on my popcorn in slow motion for added effect as I watched him wait for me to shed some light on the matter. Just as I was about to grab another handful he pulled the box of popcorn away and asked me to explain.

"So you join the company and you find the work is good and that the company is doing just about everything to make you happy. You know what happens if anyone is happy for too long. They get bored. That right, B.O.R.E.D. There's nothing to look forward to, is there? And what’s going to happen when you lose interest?”

In the manner of great orators I paused, waited and continued, ”You can’t switch again because you already have the perfect job. Let’s be honest, any new job will seem like a walk in the park with an obedient dog and nowhere close to challenging. You’re not going to get the same perks anywhere else and each time you put your hand into your pocket to buy lunch you will be left with the bitter taste of your memories. I will guarantee that a guy like you will end up taking vows of chastity when you realize that no longer will you be able to meet such wonderful women day in and day out. You will have to take a major pay cut as well since everyone knows that you were overpaid and underworked in your dream company. We need to get more popcorn, do you want some?”

I’m not sure why my friend suddenly wasn’t in the mood for more popcorn, I even offered to get him the one with additional butter which he was extremely fond of. I sat for a couple of minutes and pretended to be extremely interested in the menu as he closed his eyes and seemed extremely engrossed in thought. Alarmed by what seemed to have become his permanently furrowed eyebrows, I asked him to relax a little which he eventually did. “This is true for everything isn’t it? If I find the perfect woman I should drop her like a hot potato, shouldn’t I?”

“Uh-huh, you need to stay away from anything that is perfect. Once you reach there you have nothing left to achieve or look forward to. You cease to ask yourself that important question – What next? You need to strive for perfection but you should always remember that if you do find it you should never do anything to attain it. You always need something that is out there just beyond your reach. It is our pursuit of happiness that makes us happy.”

Frankly even I was astounded by the wisdom of my words. Profound! My friend, on the other hand, seemed at ease with the whole concept that I had unravelled in front of him and had a smile plastered on his face. Slowly he started muttering to himself while rocking himself back and forth. People at the next table started eyeing us with extreme suspicion and not without reason. One of us (read me) looked like he had just had a moment of revelation while the other looked like he was slowly losing it.

“Will that be all, sir” asked the waiter as he realized we were making the rest of the customers extremely uneasy.

“I’m not going to accept it.”

“What’s that sir? I was asking whether I should get the bill”

“"I’m not going to accept it. Don’t you agree?”

“Not accept the bill? I’m afraid I don’t completely understand, sir.”

“Sit down, sit down. Let me explain how it’s the perfect job and why I’d be a fool to accept it …..”

Why the myphone is better than my phone ....

I am not a person who gets irritated easily. If you do decide to sit behind me in class and throw tiny paper balls at my head, it would take several hundred such paper balls to get me to turn around and give you a piece of my mind and several thousand such paper balls to get me to kick you sorry arse all over town. If you decide to park your car at the office parking lot in such a way that it eats up half of my usual parking spot, I would happily go park somewhere else and carry on with life while not pondering on your lack of parking skills which would be understandable if you are a woman and inexcusable if you’re a guy. Basically it takes a lot of effort to get me out of my unflappable state but it takes very little effort for me to irritate people to an extent that they want to toss me out the window. Even if they have only just met me. Like the tragically birdbrained myphone messiah I met last week.

Apparently first impressions are supposed to be lasting impressions. I have heard my friend talking about this girl a fair bit and she seemed interesting enough, which falls somewhere between being as boring as a documentary on the physics behind drying paint and as interesting as a full fledged, all out, edge of the seats, stand up brawl between two top MMA fighters. The initial weekend plan was to head out for lunch and watch a movie and my friend had invited this girl for reasons that are still not clear to me. Why he is her friend is a bigger mystery but Im jumping the gun. We decided to meet up for a light lunch (the seats in theatres are extremely conducive to sleeping which means you have to go a second time to watch the parts which you missed) and then catch the movie and unfortunately just after introducing us to each other, my friend received a call from his bitter err better half and vanished before I could ask him to at least hand over the tickets.

Our conversation was as light as our meal and I couldn’t really complain until I made the mistake of asking the girl what the time was. In a flash she had pulled out her myphone and a couple of swishes later she told me the time. In my defense I had asked her the time only because she had a watch on her wrist. Since she seemed rather proud of her little techno gizmo and was probably the type who didn’t know anything more than dialing and sending sms’s on such a complicated phone, I asked her how good the phone was and whether she had any apps on it. Cardinal error!

“Of course it’s got a load of apps on it” she exclaimed as she pulled her chair closer to mine to show off her phone. Now being something of an annual occurrence, I usually am not one to complain if a girl would like to sit close to me but this time warning bells were going off like air raid sirens. “Check out this application, it shows me all the different footprint marks of wild animals and it can even tell you how old and heavy the animal is depending on the depth of the foot mark”. An animal lover, looks like my spidey senses were wrong this time. I asked her “So I take it that you’re an animal lover. How often do you go to wildlife sanctuaries?” I could’ve sworn she shuddered a little when she said “Im terrified of wild animals, I just like watching them on the tele.”

While I wondered how she would use the app, she excitedly moved on to the next application which was called G-Park. “This is like the best application ever”, she exclaimed, ”when you park your car all you need to do is turn this application on and when you want to go back click on ‘Where did I park my car’ and it will guide you back to it. Isn’t that amazing?” I had to agree, this seemed to be like a pretty nifty little app. Just to try it out, I clicked ‘Where did I park my car’ on her phone and after several minutes of analyzing the directions I came to the conclusion that she had parked her car in the men’s restroom.

I’m not sure if the puzzled look on my face gave me away but she seemed to realize that I wasn’t really buying the whole myphone story and so she decided to further try and convince me by showing off the next application which was meant to capture the first letters that a baby writes on a myphone and captures it for posterities sake. “I didn’t know schools have given up on handwriting” I cheekily mumbled “In our time we used to get a rap on the knuckles for not writing our letters properly. How times have changed ……”

As my voice trailed and I tried to keep a straight face, she realized that it would really take something to get me onto off the skeptics list and onto the myphone bandwagon.

“Do you know to make a reef knot”

“A what not?”

“A reef knot!”

“Of course not!”

“What if you suddenly had to make a reef knot”

“Why on earth would I want to make a reef knot?”

“Assume you did ….”

“Ok but before I do that could you explain to me what is a reef knot?”

“Argh! It’s a knot. And stop asking questions and assume you need to make a reef knot, do you know how to do it?”

“Of course not”

“Well the myphone has an application that teaches you how to make any knot in 10 easy steps”

I will admit it, I had to agree that the myphone was useful for something. Even if the only knots I ever needed to make were the ones on my sneakers. She insisted on demonstrating how anyone could make a reef knot and proceeded to take two straws and attempt to make the knot. After about a minute she had to let go of the straws and pick up the phone to check the next step. After starting from scratch she managed to complete 2 steps and had to drop the straws again and check for the third step. Again she had to start from the beginning and each time she put the straws down they managed to completely disentangle themselves and in the process raise her blood pressure a couple of notches.

Not wanting her to feel worse, without a single trace of sincerity, I agreed that the app was a pretty useful one and that the phone was a good buy. Now there is nothing in the world that you can do to a myphone owner that is worse than that because we all know that they have paid more than a bundle for bragging rights and an ego boost and a phone that is perpetually behind the competition in terms of features.

To settle the matter she pulled out what she thought was her ace card. “Check out this app, it can tell you whether it is day or night and where the sun or the moon is at that particular time. Can your phone do that?” she said with a silly victorious look plastered all over her face. “Of course not” I replied nonchalantly. “I just look out the window if I want to know where the sun is …..”

She stormed off without a word and with a rather disgusted look just as my friend returned back from his phone call. “Where did she go?” he enquired quizzically as he watched her disappear into the crowd. “You’de better go after her and help her find her car, I have a feeling she’s not going to be able to find it” I remarked in all innocence.

“But why did she leave?”

“You’ve done it this time. Can I at least have my ticket, the movie is about to start”

“Here take your ticket, at least tell me why she pulled a Houdini on us”

As I got up I said “You and your phone. It was pretty rude the way you disappeared like that. I think you managed to irritate her …..”

Yikes! A Hike!!

"Why so serious?" I asked my usually glum looking colleague who was sitting with such a morose look on his face that it looked like he had just got word that the world was about to end and he hadn’t completed even one of his top 100 things to do before he moves to a better place (Neil’s note: Here better place refers to the other world and not another company as many of you would expect). All I got in return was a blank stare. “Come on, cheer up. Didn’t you see the latest email on the hikes that have been announced? Looks like we will get a 14% hike this time! This calls for a mini celebration, let’s go grab some tea” I said, trying to infuse some semblance of happiness into the still way down in the dumps colleague of mine.

“I did”

“So why the long face?”

“Because I did”

“Because you did what? And don’t you know youre not supposed to start a sentence with because? Didn’t you pay attention to your English teachers?”

“But you did”

“Did what?”

“Start a sentence with because”

“Who?”

“You. Why?”

“What?

“Start a sentence with because?”

“I didn’t start a sentence with because, you did”

“Of course not. But why did you start a sentence with because? I thought you paid attention to your English teachers”

Suddenly it felt as if the room was spinning around me at an extremely dizzy pace and I tried to get back to the matter at hand. “So aren’t you happy about the pay hikes?” I asked wondering to myself why I had asked such a question when the answer was pretty obvious. “Of course not” he replied with a steady firmness that was more than a little worrying. “But why?” I asked with more than a hint of incredulousness in my voice.

“Its my HIIKES (pronounced hi-i-ke) theory, one that no one has been able to dispute. HIIKES stands for Hopelessly Inadequate Increments to Keep Employees Satisfied. “

I wondered what was so inadequate about the hike, after all a 14% hike did seem to be quite substantial. Add to that the fact that not many this was the only company that deemed me to be employable, it seemed more than generous.

“You see, as an employee you always lose. First the company gives you a hike and you happily think you are going to get more money. Unfortunately the fact that you are getting a hike is not a secret. The government is obviously out to ensure that you don’t earn too much and further widen the gap between the haves, the have a little but think they are the Indian middle class and the have not’s. So the government goes ahead and increases petrol and diesel prices by a percentage higher than what corporate India is giving its employees. This in turn makes food and all other products that get transported by road more expensive. Not only does it cost you more to reach your local supermarket, the prices on just about everything have gone up as well. Double whammy! So you earn more but you have to spend even more to maintain your same lifestyle …..”

And then there was silence. It took me a few minutes to digest what was explained to me. It seemed so simple and yet so blatantly wrong. There obviously was something faulty with his theory and I was determined to find out what it was.

“So the government makes more money on taxes? That’s it? It’s all about the money?” I asked as I started to make some sense of the entire situation. “Of course not, it’s about the numbers as well” he replied which had me hurtling down the path of confusion even faster.

“It’s a win-win situation for the government. They raise petrol prices and rake in the moolah. And if you think about it, the only way out of this predicament as an employee is if you slog so hard that you perform exceptionally well & get a higher pay hike than everyone else. Now since everyone is working extra hard, this means that the output of our industries is shooting up and more trade means better numbers for government statisticians who don’t have to resort to high levels of fudging to make you feel good. So you read your newspaper and feel proud when in reality for every step the country takes forward in terms of GDP and other 3 letter acronyms no one understands, you have taken two steps backwards with your family and loved ones as you try and outdo everyone else by working harder and harder.”

This time the silence was prolonged as things slowly began to sink in. Since it took me so long to understand and accept the problem, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to figure out a solution within a reasonable timeframe. “So what’s the way out?” I asked. “There isn’t any. Either you keep working harder and harder to make more money but give up all hopes of seeing you family for days together or be the family guy and stop running the rat race.”

And then it struck me, the answer to the problems of all employees in corporate India. “Jump!” I exclaimed. “What? Why?”. “No, no, don’t jump now. I meant jump from one company to the other. Get a substantial payhike in the process and I guarantee that you will be able to make enough to overcome the hikes in prices for everything else and hence make more money. Am I right or am I right?” I asked as I sat back with a triumphant grin on my face.

“You’re right. And wrong.” Said my fried as he slumped further into despair. “You see, if you shift companies once you would be able to beat the price rise for a while. But jump a second time and you will definitely move into the upper tax bracket which means you pay more taxes…..”

Dejectedly I threw in the towel. If someone would have told me earlier that the more I earned, the poorer I would become, I would’ve laughed and said that he was off his rockers. But it is true. Feeling down and out, I resigned myself to my fate and stared gloomily at my laptop for what seemed to be an eternity. That was until another colleague of mine cheerily came up to me and asked “Didn’t you get the email on the pay hikes? Why so serious?”

Watchs wrong ?

There must be something wrong with my watch. How could I explain the fact that despite leaving for office at the same time every day, I find that my office floor is rather full when I arrive as compared to what it was a couple of months back? Even more surprisingly, these days there are more people in office when I pack up and leave at the end of yet another arduous day than what there used to be. Being a stickler for routines, I come and go at the same time every day and this change in office occupancy really did puzzle me.

Was my boss not happy with my work and hence giving me a lighter load? Did I accidentally delete an internal company email saying employees had to put in an additional hour of work? Was there a new policy of getting paid more for spending even more hours in office? Were people spending more time in office to avoid peak hour Bangalore traffic? Were they trying to ease me out by reducing their dependency (whatever little was there) on me?

I had a ton of similar questions that worried me no end. I was fretting, worrying, anxious and tense as I noticed that for the third week in a row I seemed to be the last to arrive and the first to leave. Is it any surprise that I couldnt get a proper night's sleep? As the days passed by, I grew more irritable and short tempered. Slowly people started avoiding me at work and took the longer route around the office floor just to avoid passing my desk. Those were gloomy days indeed.

And then one monday morning, all my fears were put to rest as I read the latest email from our H.R. team. People were giving me second and even third looks as they noticed that I had smiled for the first time in weeks. It even made a few stop in their tracks when they saw me. Suddenly it seemed to me that it wasn't just a monday morning. It was a nice bright sunny monday morning.I took a walk around the office floor exchanging pleasantries with people who hadn't made eye contact with me for days. More than a few of them were surprised to see my smiling face as they looked up from their laptop screens.

I eventually made my way back to my desk and read the subject line of the email again - Appraisal Season is here, time to fill in your goals and objectives. Obviously there was nothing wrong with my watch. Its just that time of the year ......

P.G Warning !

In this post you will find the contents of the speech made by a leading industrialist to leaders of our Indian economy at a secret meeting last week and the incidents that followed it. The participants will of course deny the occurrence of this event but I felt the need to give my massive reading audience the complete picture.

“Fellow businessmen, retailers, shopkeepers and members of the industry, I stand before you a worried man, a man who sees a paradigm shift that is happening as we speak and like many of you I too am helpless & am looking to you for suggestions and advice. For decades, we businessmen have held the upper hand as we have dictated prices of everything from soaps to cars, from movie stars to chocolate bars. We decided what the right price for everyday & non-everyday items was and customers remained ignorant without that blasted thing called the internet.

Nowadays we have to deal with Disturbingly Informed Completely Knowledgeable Shoppers (Note from Neil - This is an acronym friendly blog but in this case I must make an exception to the acronym that was used by this ignorant gentleman). These D**** do all their research on the internet, analyze offerings from different competitors and then go to buy what they want armed to the teeth with knowledge. You cant pull a fast one on D****. You cant lowball them with a substandard product or services. D**** will make life miserable for you if we try doing such regular unscrupulous activities by publishing all our shenanigans (Note from Neil - surprising that he uses words like shenanigans but is ignorant about the usage of the acronym D****) all over the internet or taking it up with the media.

My colleagues and I have thought about it a lot, we have hired consultants to figure a way out for us but it is of no use. We can probably hold out for a while longer but eventually we need to cave in and herald the age of the D****. That will be a sad day for all of us indeed. I urge you to pull as much as possible from the pockets of these customers while you can because our good times wont last.

(On this solemn note, the speaker sat down & the crowd settled into an unsteady silence)

An old businessman stood up and took the microphone and said "What rubbish! I have been running my business for 40 years and have never once met a customer like what you described. You people are making a big hue and cry about nothing !"

(A young man slowly stood up and asked for the microphone)

" I’m afraid uncleji, that you are wrong. Let me give you a perfect example of what a pain in the you know where these D**** can be (Note from Neil - Is it just me that finds what is being said at this meeting errrr imaginative?). I am a salesperson for one of India's largest car manufacturers and just a few days back a young gentleman came in to book a car for himself. I thought I would give him the customary schemes and with that I would have the booking completed and another easy sale in the bag. However the customer refused to sign saying he wanted more. He insisted that he wanted free mudflaps, carpets, sunfilm and a car cover. It appeared that he had done a bit of research before coming and I had to go and get the necessary approval from my manager."

"Even after getting this the customer refused to sign and said that he wanted even more stuff. By now I was beginning to sweat profusely. He was walking around the showroom nonchalantly and saying he wanted this accessory & that freebie. By now I realised he had done his homework thoroughly & was making me work for my deal. Meanwhile my manager appeared and was watching the customer literarily wring my neck as he extorted (Note from Neil - funny how the customer has started extorting businessmen these days!) more and more accessories from me. Finally I had to almost plead with him to stop & eventually he relented and signed the papers. I was never happier to have a customer finalise his order and walk out the showroom.

(A gloomy silence descended the group until a smartly dressed man in his mid 30's stood up and said)

If only we could go back in time and shoot those blasted men and women who made the internet! Nowadays you have information on anything and everything on the net, from user reviews to contact details to prices. How are we expected to get away with our arbitrary pricing policies? Earlier if our kids wanted the latest technological device all we had to do was overcharge the next few customers and that was it. One new iphone ready & paid for. Nowadays I cant even overcharge my customers enough to get my mobile phone recharged!

(And so one by one participants stood up and narrated their sad stories until they started dispersing slowly and steadily).

Note from Neil - The next time you are tightening the screws on a sales guy and making him sweat (both literarily and figuratively) cut him some slack, he probably has gone through a few customers like you already. And how did I get all this insider information? I too am in sales and was a sad participant at the meeting you see .....

2010 - The year that was

Yet another excellent email forward that had me in splits.

January
Jyoti Basu dies at 11.47 a.m., yet again almost making it to P.M.
UPSC increases civil services intake from 580 to 965. Ouch. 385 more bureaucrats each year. A real Babulation Explosion.
Kerala gets 3G services. Now they can call themselves “GGGods own country”.

February
Kishenji announces his phone number : 9734695789 . Now we don’t need the army to fight him. ICICI will finish him off.
Lok Sabha meets. Noise. Confusion. Lok Sabha adjourns. It’s time we rename our parliament the Joke Sabha.
India says no to Bt brinjal. An auberginity lost?

March
What’s common to Iceland & Abhishek? Both are wondering what to do with ash.
Sania Mirza announces that she’s going to marry Shoaib Malik
Thank God, Sania doesn’t have to do 7 pheras with Shoaib. She’ll never get past the first round.
Anagram of “Sania has a Malik” – “Asli aman ki asha”.

April
ND Tiwari may have to take DNA test. Ha. So far for him, a double-helix was just an interesting position in bed.
Sachin Tendulkar’s birthday today? Let’s celebrate it as "Runmashtami."
The good thing is that Sachin has turned 37. Which means, for the next 365 days, he will be in his prime.
IPL-3 happens with much glitz, glamour & goris.
Definite Punjab victory over Mumbai today. Mumbai may have the X-factor in Sachin. But Yuvi gives Punjab the XXL-factor.
Matthew Hayden to change his name to Matthew_Hayden. After all he is a chronic under-scorer.
If Vijay Mallya had his way, after the quarter-finals, IPL would have the half-finals & full-final.
And the post-IPL party starts.
Unfortunately, all the recent happenings only go to prove that an honest politician is the exception rather than Tharoor.
If an aquarium can have water and a planetarium, planets, why can’t a consortium have a consort?
Lalit Modi possessed drugs as a teenager. What?! No way we’ll let him run a cricket tournament. Let him go stand for parliament instead.
BJP, RJD & BSP want JPC probe into IPL so that NCP will get caught & UPA will be in trouble. Acronymous scenes in parliament.


May
If India were a gym, Delhi would be the sauna, Chennai, the steam-room & Bangalore, the a/c reception. Mumbai will be the pool in 2 months.
The IPL saga continues.
I’ve heard of “suspension of disbelief”, but LKM’s behavior suggests that he’s experiencing “disbelief of suspension”.
LKM gets threats from the underworld. Looks like organized crime doesn’t like competition.
Kasab gets sentenced
Like all sentences, Kasab’s too ends in a full stop.
If he’s sentenced to death, Kasab will be 51st in the queue. “Capital” punishment just means your file is stuck in Delhi.
Subhash Ghai was ahead of his times. He introduced 4G in 1989. A-G, oh-G, lo-G, suno-G.

June
FIFA World Cup provides a lot of kicks
Hope Greece is not given a penalty. They’ll say they have no money to pay it.
I don’t think Mexico will make any attempt at the Argentinian goal. A Mexican can’t take a shot without salt and lemon.
I think Italy should be allowed to have an extra player on the field. After all, Azzurri usually comprises 12 people.
The feeling of having heard a damn irritating noise before – Deja Vu-vuzela
On the offside, first there is God, then there is Ganguly. And then sometimes Argentina.
If India had qualified for the World Cup, Chetan Bhagat would have been goalie & Mamata the forward. He can block, she can strike.
Germany, Uruguay, Netherlands & Spain. So the big G.U.N.S. have made it to the semis.
TN may free 500 convicts to mark Tamil conference. Why, may I know? Did classical Tamil have shorter sentences?
Ahmedabad to celebrate World Blood Donation day. Hopefully, this time around, they’ll keep it voluntary.
Karunanidhi turns 87 today. He will henceforth be called Dravida Munnetra Kazhavan.

July
Bopanna & Qureshi to play tennis match with Wagah border as the net. Thereby showing that there are faults on both sides.
Petrol price increased again. An optimist will now look at his tank as half fuel.
Just realized that M.S. Dhoni’s wife will be called Ms. Dhoni.
CWG fun begins
Now I understand why the CWG mascot is called Shera. They want a Shera this, a Shera that, and a Shera everything that makes money.
New HR rating scheme- 5: Exceeds Expectations, 4: Meets Expectations, 3: Average, 2: Needs Improvement, 1: Kalmadi.
Suresh Kalmadi plans to give us the Common & the Games. The rest, he’ll keep.
The latest form of humour: Stand-up Kalmadi.
So Amit Shah is behind the Sohrabuddin fake encounter, uh? Makes sense. His name is, after all, an anagram of “a sham hit”.
If Sherlyn Chopra met Rakhi Sawant, would the CBI call it a fake encounter?

August
Manmohan becomes third PM to hoist flag at Red Fort for 7th time. Sigh. So many hoisters, so few pearls.
If life gives you lemons, be very happy. They’re now Rs.100 per kg.
I’d like to start a paper factory that supplies clean chits to the CBI. Big business potential.
Congress to have elections to decide its President. Ha. That’s like Robinson Crusoe conducting interviews to select his assistant.
It’s a great day for our planet. All the top places in Miss Universe are bagged by earthlings.
Spot-fixing controversy hits Pakistan cricket. Pakistan is the world champion in book cricket.
There’s actually a website that does nothing but spot-fixing. It’s called Foursquare.
I’m looking forward to Arnab on spot-fixing tonight. I bet that he’ll interrupt his first guest on the third word of his second sentence.

September
CWG action continues
Finally some positive news about the CWG – 5 athletes test positive for dope.
1.6 million meals to be served during CWG. Oh. No wonder they have created such a big mess.
Delhi gets hit by Dengue.
What Delhi needs is some Ram Sene folks. They won’t let the mosquitoes breed till they get married.
I propose that we make mosquitoes our national insect. Then the government will try to protect them and they’ll become extinct.
Kasab case drags on
Sentenced terrorists have a good time in india – They are footloose and phaansi free.
UID launched. The first person gets an aadhar number. The second gets anaadhar number. And so on.
I guess, in Jalandhar, people will soon be bidding lakhs of rupees for a premium UID number.
Ayodhya verdict happens. Seems to be on the basis of Share-ya law.
This Ayodhya issue is quite complex. Hindus want a temple, Muslims want a mosque, while Mayawati actually wants a statue.
Off to Google Maps to mark Nungambakkam as Rameshjanmabhoomi so that there’s no confusion in 5510AD.
Raymonds wants to sponsor the Ayodhya verdict, because it turned out to be a 3-piece suit.

October
Obama’s goal seems to be to see as much of India and as little of Indians as possible.
In TN, a million more TV sets will be distributed. Our whole country seems to be in an alms race.
Advice to Arundhati Roy: if at first you don’t secede, cry, cry, cry again.
Mukesh Ambani is not the first to stay in Antilla. Centuries back, Valmiki used to hang out in one.

November
Today is the day Krishna slays Narakusara, Rama returns to Ayodhya, Mahavira attains moksha, and Airtel makes a killing. Happy Diwali.
The more the number of Diwali sweets in your house, the faster they get spoilt: Burfi’s law.
Raja scam explodes
A. Raja is living proof that there is a pot of gold at the end of the spectrum.
In India, scams have an alarming frequency. And now, with Raja, frequencies have an alarming scam.
Dear Manmohan Singh, it would be apt if you could sack our telecom minister using radio language: Raja. Over and out.
Manmohan Singh continues to do nothing about anything
Manmohan Singh’s First Law of Motion: Everybody stays in a state of rest unless
acted upon by Soniaji.
Manmohan Singh’s Third Law of Motion: Every action has an equal and opposite inaction.
One day there will be a movie made about Manmohan Singh. And the director will go, “Lights. Camera. Inaction.”
Manmohan Singh’s personal integrity is unquestionable. Mostly because he never attends question hour.
Yeddy allots land to his children:
My name is Yeddy.
I’m a great father, a cool deddy.
Politics has been bleddy,
but be happy I am steddy.
Cos else you’ll be stuck with Reddy.
The nation finds out that Radia : Government :: Sonia : Manmohan
Q : How do you fit 1000 media people in a hotel? A: 998 in 499 double rooms. And Barkha & Sanghvi in the lobby.
Why does phone-tapping make India a banana republic? Isn’t tapioca republic better?
There was a lady, Radia.
Whose contacts could fill stadia.
But to get stuff done,
She’d trust no one,
Except the helpful media.

December
Wikileaks threatens national security, or rather politicians’ security
What with wikileaks & payback, the governments of the world will now unite to face their common enemy – the public.
TIME had a difficult choice for Person of the Year. Assange, who attacked governments’ privacy. Or Zuckerberg, who went after people’s.
Sarkozy is a VIP Frenchie, right?
To protect against hacking, DRDO instructs all government officials to change their password from sonia123.
India has got an old, rich and glorious tradition in hacking. It started with Parashurama.
MMS & team are busy blowing balloons for Sonia’s birthday. They’ve told their staff that they’re tackling inflation.
Many bills were passed in the parliament session: Travel bills, food bills, etc.
We should also fix China by issuing visas that are attached by mere gem-clips.
Obama, Sarkozy, Jiabao & now Medvedev. If india can’t get to the Security Council, at least the Security Council is coming to india.
There was this guy called Manian.
Very very fond of onion.
He ate ‘em till it hurt.
So he lost his shirt.
Now he roams around in a chaddi & banian.

Honeymoon and James Bond (stop getting ideas ! )

To all my devoted readers (yes, all two of you) I ask, is there anyone out there who doesn't like James Bond ? The truth is we all love James Bond. The guys all wish they had the charm, voice and the looks of a James Bond (Sean Connery not Pierce Brosnan) while the women wish they met a guy like James Bond to errr play chess. Im sure everyone has at some point or the other wondered what it would be like to be a super spy with voice recorders disguised as everyday objects and cars loaded with missiles and machine guns with a back seat to errr play chess with the women.

Unfortunately life doesn't give us the chance to play super spy for real. (Well actually it does give me the chance but if I tell you about it I will have to kill you). That was until the advent of Facebook. Now Facebook for all intents and purposes is a marketers unadulterated dream with millions of people (including myself) putting up all their personal details out there for the FB guys to sell to marketers and get rich. Ill informed people (99% of FB users) think that it is a social networking site. But the beauty of FB was that up until recently it allowed people to snoop on just about everyone else and find out what they were hiding in the closet. Then people started making a hue and cry about privacy settings and they fixed it.

But by some strange unwritten code people have apparently started feeling bad for their fellow spies and have now started putting up pictures of their honeymoon (the politically correct term is 'holiday') on FB so that everyone can talk about it. Probably in the hope that the fellow spies would in term put up their pics when their wedding comes along. Or maybe they just want to show off that they could afford to go to a fancy place after an extravagant wedding.

Which of course, we as friends wouldn't know about since people have stopped inviting their friends to their weddings. Strictly family only these days. Cant blame them, if they have to afford a honeymoon to a fancy unpronounceable place then they have to cut costs. And what better way to cut costs than to invite less people for your wedding ?

But seriously, of all the things you have to put up on FB, does it have to be your honeymoon? Why not more pictures of your wedding? Why not the pretty bridesmaids who I would've tried to woo had I been invited to your wedding? Why not your dog? Or the plants in your garden? Or your underwear on your clothesline? Not that I'm complaining, it gives me and the rest of the world more than enough to talk about in our idle time.


Come to think of it, being James Bond isn't really going to be too difficult. All he has to do is follow the baddies on FB or Twitter. Imagine the scene, the bad guy slips into a back alley & Mr Bond runs past unsuspectingly. Meanwhile the baddie takes out his mobile & tweets "Slpd into back alley. JB is a fool. Hahahaha". And 2 seconds later Mr Bond shoots him in the head. A super spy beating the bad guys with technology. How could you not like James Bond ?

Happy birthday !

Im not much of a birthday person but this is by far the best birthday song of all time. Adam Sandler is credited with the song, though I dont know how true that is. Its up on youtube. The next time you have a friend's birthday coming up you know what song to sing !

Once a year we celebrate with stupid hats and plastic plates,
the fact that you were able to make another trip around the sun.
And the whole plan gathers round' gifts and laughter do will bound,
we let out a joyful sound and sing that stupid song.
Happy Birthday, now your one year older.
Happy Birthday, your life still isn't over.
Happy Birthday, you did not accomplish much.
But you didn't die this year i guess that's good enough.


So lets drink to your fading health, and hope you don't remind yourself
your chance of finding fame and wealth decrease with every year.
Does it feel like your doing laps, and eating food and taking naps,
and hoping that some day, perhaps, your life will hold some cheer.

Happy Birthday, your starting to get fatter.
Happy Birthday, it's downhill from now on.
Try not to remind yourself your best years are all gone.


If cryogenics were all free then you could live like Walt Disney and live
for all eternity inside a block of ice.
But instead your time is set this is the only life you get,
and though it hasen't ended yet some times you wish it MIGHT!


Happy Birthday, you wish you had more money.
Happy Birthday, your lifes so sad it's funny.
Happy Birthday, how much more can you take?
But your friends are hungry so just cut the stupid cake.


Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Dear ...

Magic drawer, show me your power !

"Dude I read your blog & saw that you wanted to start cooking. Stop having junk food all the time. Why don’t you come over to my place & I'll show you how to cook home made food". An innocuous enough statement from a call made by a long lost friend resulted in even more cullinary misadventures (much better word than mishaps) that I must share with the world.

A week after the call was made, I dropped into my friend's place and after talking about the good old days we got down to the cooking lessons. Now I am sure some of you men out there must be thinking - 'What sort of guy learns cooking? That is a woman's job. So what if it is 2011?' Apparently women like men who cook and seeing as women definitely don’t find guys like me funny, good looking or charming, cooking seems to be the last resort (on second thoughts, that sentence kind of makes me sound like a desperate man which I assure you I am not).

Back to the story. My friend was always known to be a little absent minded & I was pleased to see that time had not changed him one bit. 'What we are going to do today, is to create a feast. One that the contestants of Master chef Australia, America and Tunisia would be proud of.' I was a little hesitant when I heard this because I was assuming I would learn to swim by trying out the kids pond but this was like throwing me into shark infested waters. 'What we need is a dash of this, a sprinkling of that, 2 tea spoons of this and a generous dose of that to make the perfect dish (I must apologise for the prodigious use of the words this and that when it comes to the ingredients, I had no clue what my friend was talking about and have inserted the words this and that for each ingredient). He opened the main drawer below the stove and looked carefully at it for a few minutes. All I could see were a few bottles of common spices and a few pots and pans.

'Never mind, we can use this and that instead' he said cheerfully as he tossed in a handful of spices into the boiling water. 'You know what would make this perfect? A dash of this'. He opened the shelf above the stove this time and looked at it intensely. Since my friend was ummm adequately heighted (apparently short is such a mean word to use these days) I offered to help him take out the items which were just out of reach of his hands 'Do you want me to get the salt or pepper or the sugar?'. I wondered why he was looking at the shelf when the item he had mentioned was clearly not in it but I decided to keep my mouth shut.

'It appears that I don’t have it, will use that instead' he said as he opened the drawer below the stove and looked at it with perfect concentration once again. I’m no chef but I knew for a fact that the drawer did not contain the above mentioned spice. And yet my friend moved about a few items in the drawer and finally convinced that it was not there he said that we might have to ramp down the scale of our extravagant cullinary experiment for the evening (how can you not love the way an Indian MBA speaks?). With my visions of pork roast being dashed, I resigned myself to a slightly less satisfying dinner when my friend said "How would you like a vegetarian dish?" I’m no full blooded carnivore but vegetables aren’t exactly my idea of a sumptuous meal. I looked around and noticed that there weren’t any vegetables. In fact there wasn’t any chicken or pork or any other four legged animal either.

Sensing my unease my friend suggested that I go to the hall and watch football instead. I feebly protested, more from not wanting to see what he was making given the extremely limited resources than anything else. I occasionally peeped into the kitchen and each time I saw him standing there staring intently at the open drawer almost as if he was trying to conjure up some spices or herbs or even complete dishes by magic. A half an hour later he walked in triumphantly with 2 plates laden with food that smelled delicious.

As he placed it in front of me my smile vanished as I realised that he had prepared rice and daal! Yes, just rice and daal. To give the devil his due, it was tasty but seriously, rice and daal without any vegetables / curries? 'Isn’t this a lovely meal?' he asked and I replied that I hadn’t had a meal like this in years. Which brought a huge smile to his face. Well I didn’t lie, the last time I had only rice and daal was several years back when I was so sick that the only food which would go down my throat was (you guessed it) rice and daal.

On my way home that night, I recollected the events of evening with a smile until I spotted the sign outside the nearby midnight meal preparing roadside vendor, which said 'Budget meals - Rice, daal & potato Rs 10 only'. 2 seconds later, my far from being a chef friend called me up saying "Dude I just got off the phone with this really pretty girl from my office & I’ve offered to cook her dinner. Yay! (I never understood why he does the Yay!) Can you come and help ....". I didn’t get to hear the rest because I had switched off my phone & was walking home to snack on noodles & chips.

How Do You Enjoy a New Years Eve Without Company

PROLOGUE

"So Neil, what big plans for New Years (eve)?". I was rapidly getting sick and tired of the blasted question as the new year approached. Everyone was either heading out of town, arranging small get-togethers for their family or going out with the better halves. The problem with not making plans in advance is that you suddenly reach that day (usually halfway between Christmas & Jan 1st) where everyone has made plans without you and you don’t want to shamelessly invite yourself and spoil their plans.

The highlight of this as yet unnamed day is that for all the days prior to that, just about everyone would be in a constant state of confusion - 'I’ve not made plans, have you? Let me know if something comes up' etc: And then out of the blue everyone assumed you would be making plans with your other friends and you are left high and dry.

********************************

Well not having company (unless I wanted to sit at home with a bunch of guys and watch yet another mindless fashion show on TV that treats women like commodities) was not the end of the world and I decided to do my bit to push the Indian economy and splurge a little by attending some party at a good place. After getting ready and dressing up (a not too frequent occurrence) I made my way to a fancy joint where I was told in no uncertain terms that stags were not allowed. I argued that I had seen the advertisement for the party in the papers only yesterday & that they were selling passes for stags at a not altogether reasonable rate. The rather stupid reply which I got was that stags were allowed entry only if they were in a group that included women. Flabbergasted for the first time.

Not one to waste time trying to understand the lack of logic of their reply I decided to make my way to a nearby pub that was renowned for the rock music it played. My friends and I occasionally visit the place and bringing in the new year in the company of AC/DC, Led Zep and Collective Soul among others seemed to be a good bet. Outside the pub, the otherwise friendly bouncer and manager suddenly seemed to have developed a serious case of amnesia. The pub is full, there no place to stand, its really crowded were the standard excuses that they bandied about. I explained to them that I don’t drink & that if they were worried I would create trouble in my drunken stupor they were sadly mistaken. Pat came the reply "But if you don’t drink, why do you want to enter a pub after paying the cover charge?". If they had any sense they would have realised that they would have made maximum profit on a person like me who wouldn’t drink & use up the cover charges but I decided against explaining it to them. Flabbergasted for the second time.

Checking my watch I realised that if I rushed home I could still catch the end of the mindless aimless pointless fashion show with half clothed (sounds so much better than half naked) women walking around. 200 meters away from the pub I had to stop because the police had setup a roadblock and were checking everyone with breath analyzers. 2 policemen came rushing to me only to be disappointed by the zero reading on the machine.

Meanwhile a large queue of vehicles had formed behind me and the cars that had pulled over and people were impatiently honking. As I got dressed (fear not, dressed involved zipping back my jacket, putting on my helmet and strapping on my gloves, activities that take a combined 3 minutes 15 seconds) the cops came back angrily asking me "Where do you think you are going?" (at least that’s what I think they asked me seeing as I don’t speak Kannada). "But the reading showed zero" I said in all innocence. "License, registration, pollution under control certificate and all other papers". Meanwhile the honking was getting louder as the line had grown longer. "Aren’t you guys checking only for drunken driving? Here are all my papers, can I go now?" I asked. "Sir, 100 rupees" said the junior cop. I gave him a blank look. "Sir after all its the new year and you ride a nice bike and can afford to pay us this small amount .....". Flabbergasted for the third time.

Tired and annoyed I landed at home just before 12 and switched on the tele to catch the end of Victoria's Secret Fashion show which featured some very attractive women (with the collective IQ of my 5 year old nephew) walking down the ramp. Who is Victoria? What is her secret? Why does it involve half clothed women? Why in the world are Akon & Katy Perry performing on the same show? Mercifully sleep overtook me before I could get flabbergasted for the 4th time.

********************************

EPILOGUE

Ive learnt my lesson the hard way. I have resolved to start making plans for Dec 31st starting now itself. If you have something interesting lined up let me know. We will plan early and finalize. At least that way I will have an answer whenever someone asks me "So Neil, what big plans for New Years (eve)?"

The 2011 look

Its 2011. Pardon me for not celebrating like a madman and bringing the roof down (for starters, my landlord would not approve) because like most other people I too have realised that yet another year has gone by and not much has changed. I will spare you the incredibly boring and long speech on how fate conspired against me over the last year and the other 101 reasons as to why status quo has been maintained. What has changed though is the design of this blog. After 4 1/2 years of that prehistoric green theme, I finally decided that it was time for a change. Fear not dear readers (yes, all 2 of you, don’t worry I know who you are, its very sweet that you 2 to occasionally keep reading this blog and ensure that I’m not the only one reading my own posts) I will continue to be funny, insightful, thought provoking blah blah in my posts and will ensure that I don’t get into the writers block too often.

My hope is that I do enough of good blogging (questionable to say the least) throughout the year so that it will provide the necessary kick up the proverbial arse to get me started on my book which currently resides between my ears. Sell a few million copies, quit my job, buy Fiat Puntos in all the colours I like, donate a bit to charity, pick up a LED TV so big that I need to sit in the next room to be able to see both ends of the TV along with a microwave to make popcorn, kick back and relax is what should happen after that. Sounds good to me.

Plus the world is supposed to end next year. Technically it was supposed to end in 2000 but people have rather conveniently forgotten about that. Maybe there is a lot to look forward to after all, in 2011.

An almost 100% merry Christmas

I am a Christmasy person. But its just another holiday, why are you making such a big deal out of one day? you ask. Here's what I love

1. Christmas shopping (go on, call me a girl),

2. putting up the Christmas star (minimum effort required) and decorating the tree (not really, its too effort intensive),

3. munching on sumptuous lunch (duck, chicken, pork, prawns) followed by the most amazing dessert ever made (Pandhal in Cochin is where you need to buy it from, if anyone from Pandhal is reading this do I get a free dessert for openly recommending your stuff?),

4. sweets to savour (chocolate balls, marzipans and a whole lot of others),

5. rich plum cake and a dash of good old fashioned family made wine (sinfully heavenly),

6. visiting relatives (who doesn’t love them)

7. Santa Claus

8. and much much more.

The only thing I worry about on Christmas is my phone. The thing is every year I end up getting sms's from a lot of unknown numbers wishing me a very merry Christmas. Since most of these messages have my name in them, the sender obviously knows me well enough to have sent me a sms on this wonderful day. I on the other hand don’t know the same person well enough to have his / her number stored on my phone. Which sort of leaves me in a fix as I ponder on how exactly to reply to these sms's. I usually send a unisex reply that does the trick in most cases that doesn’t encourage further sms contact. Sometimes people, God bless them, in the spirit of the holidays respond with further questions - so what’s happening / what big plans etc. Now since I don’t know who I am messaging I am conscious about the amount of information I divulge so I usually respond with eating n sleeping and say I’m just about to doze off (good conversation ender) even if it is 9 AM.

The only thing worse than this is the kind hearted souls who decide to do away with sms-ing and call me on Christmas instead not knowing that I do not have any clue who they are. I am terrible at identifying voices & the conversations I have are deliberately bland and lack in detail (don’t want to give out too much information, what if the sweet sounding unknown woman is a stalker?) & I usually end the short calls with "Hey someone from the U.S is calling me, might be from the office, Ill have to call you back". And proceed to store the numbers as Unknown Christmas 1, Unknown Christmas 2 etc: So every year I have Unknown Christmas n calling up & talking to me about life while I am blissfully unaware of who I am talking to. And since the same people have been calling me year after year I think its too late to ask them their names.

Next year I think Ill leave my phone switched off. That way the same people will have to resort to emailing me or pinging me on Facebook. At least then I'll know who they are. Which means I can call them the following Christmas and spread the holiday cheer. Which would add another point to my Why I love Christmas list. Which would make me even more Christmasy & make the day a perfect Christmas.

The low point of low waist jeans

They say fashion is constantly evolving, that what’s 'in' this season is a far cry from what was 'in' a few months back and that you need to keep changing with the times. I, for one, am not the most fashionable person around, primarily due to the fact that my fashion sense hovers perilously close to zero. What I do know is that low waist jeans have been 'in' in India for the last decade & a couple of recent incidents have made me pen down (misnomer really considering that I’m typing it out) a few thoughts on this perpetually 'cool' style statement.

Before I get to that, permit me a few minutes of nostalgia. Around 10 years ago when I first decided to try out low waist jeans it wasn’t because of an enhanced sense of dressing. It turned out that I was rather scrawny for my age & getting a pair of jeans to fit me was about as easy as topping my class in the annual exams. So I was left with jeans that would dangle somewhere below my waist line (held up by a belt) at the mythical NELWJP (Non Embarrassment Low Waist Jeans Point). Which is the exact point at which the jeans are low enough to pass off as low while not being in danger of falling off with the next gust of wind but succeeding in scandalizing your extended family by its lack of proximity to your waist line. Of course I never stepped out without a belt, wasn’t daring enough but I do know of a lot of people who did. Gutsy buggers. Nowadays they aren’t the rage anymore but it isn’t surprising to spot someone sporting the low waist look and carrying it off well.

What is surprising though is the fact that people still think that it is acceptable to walk around in low waist jeans that display more than a hint of their undergarments. We were at a movie hall recently when we spotted guys from a large group sitting in front of us moving out to grab some popcorn. All of them were flaunting their boxers (most in checks, i think one of them had Mickey Mouse if my brief (pardon the pun) glance serves my memory correctly). And the best part is that none of them bothered to make any attempt to pull up their pants which led to much grief and shock for the rest of the audience.

In fact, I was thinking I should approach these right wing extremists in our country (we do seem to have plenty of them) & use their money and / or muscle power to launch my automatic low waist jeans lifting contraption which is rather self explanatory. All you have to do is walk up behind a person who is unsuitably attired in low waist jeans and clip the device onto his jeans without him knowing it. Then from a safe distance using the remote control, select the intensity of the upward pull and watch as it pulls his pants up using the combined effort of its tiny twin motors. Please do remember that the motors are pretty strong so please do think twice before putting it on the highest intensity. Lets just say the consequences could be long lasting. In fact I could and should patent this device. I’m sure parents would lap it up. This could be my goose that lays golden eggs. Swiss banks, here I come!

Of course, defenders of all things fashionable will say you cant impinge on someone’s fundamental right to dress up the way he / she wants. Which I agree with as long as they don’t display their boxers to the entire world each time they decide to cross the room. They might say ..... you know what, forget it. It doesn’t really matter what they say.

The question that has no answer

"Does this dress make me look fat?" The dreaded devious question hung menacingly in the air. Like Damocles sword, its razor sharp blade ready to drop at the slightest hint of a mistake. Dumping whatever clothes we had picked up we rushed towards the changing rooms of the store from where the fiendish question had arisen. Pretending to carefully check out the stuff on the racks near the changing room (never mind that it was all womens wear) we carefully sized up the situation while preparing ourselves for the impending massacre. None of us had ever laid our eyes on this guy before and now that the question was popped, we honestly weren’t expecting to see him alive again.


To be honest, the two of them made a cute couple. One of those picture perfect duos that you would probably spot on the walls of a photography studio. That is if the bugger managed to wriggle out of the predicament he was in right now. Highly improbable but we sent up a collective prayer for the poor sod.


Educational Lesson 1 - Hesitancy. Of all the things you should never do when a woman asks you a question, hesitancy is number one. Especially if she asks you a sensitive question. Even more so when it is about her weight. Remember that, fellow lads, never hesitate. It makes you appear as though you have to think before replying. And women don’t like men who think. Especially men who think before replying about their weight.


"Does this make me look fat?" This time there was a noticeable difference in the tone of the girl’s voice. Like rivers up in the mountains that slowly begin to freeze as winter begins its gradual descent upon us all, the sentence slowly increased in iciness, word by word, second by second.
"Blimey, has dead meat" said my friend (henceforth F1).
"Err (pause) I didn’t get what you said" replied the soon to be carcass of a friend / boyfriend / fiancé / husband.
"He paused. He is soooo dead" pitched in another of our guy group (henceforth F2).
"How could you not hear my question? I repeated it twice. What is your answer? A simple yes or no." came the frigid reply.
"She wants a simple answer. Poor guy" I said as we watched the guy wither away under the steely glare of the girl.


Educational Lesson 2 - When a woman says she wants a simple reply, do not, I repeat, under any circumstances give a simple reply. When a woman says she wants a simple yes or no, you are expected to give a long winding, elaborate and eloquent speech that is both yes and no and does not commit yourself firmly to either a yes or a no. Examples of questions that are a prelude to the "It’s a simple yes or no question" are
a. Have you done the work that I’ve been asking you to do for the last 3 months?
b. Have you bought anything for me on the occasion of our upcoming anniversary?
c. Do you find your attractive secretary attractive?


The reason why men find the "Does this dress make me look fat" question highly revolting is because the question rapidly descends into either one of the following scenarios
Scene 1:
Guy - Of course not sweety, that’s rubbish. You don’t look fat. In fact you look extremely pretty in that dress. I think you should pick it up. (Internally congratulating himself for having handled the situation with poise and diplomacy)
Girl (about to descend into tears) - You think this makes me look fat (descending into tears)
Guy - What? No, I never said that. Why would you think that? Please stop crying, I don’t think you’re fat.
Girl (sobbing) - Is it too much to (sob) expect you to (sob) be honest with (sob) m(sob)e? Why don’t (sob) you tell me (sob) instead of (sob) trying to (sob) hide it. (Big sob) You think I’m fatttt ....
Guy (thinking to himself) - WTF?!


Scene 2:
Guy - You know what sweety, this isn’t really a good dress. The stitching is all weird. It’s a bit loose here and tight in other parts. It doesn’t really compliment your body. Why don’t we get you another dress. (Internally congratulating himself for having handled the situation with poise and diplomacy)
Girl - You think I’m fat (in a tone akin to someone saying 'You think Im racist') !
Guy (panic beginning to set in) - What? Of course not! I just said there was something wrong with the dress.
Girl - So you think I’m stupid as well as fat. Something wrong with the dress it seems, didn’t have the guts to tell me straight! You know what, there is something wrong with you! You can go to hell .... (Storming off)
Guy (thinking to himself) - WTF?!


Needless to say, the two of them pretty much stuck to the script (Scene 2 in this case) and as we walked away shell shocked from witnessing the verbal dressing down of a lifetime, we realised that we had to do something about it. All 3 of us were sure that we would not be able to handle such a cataclysmic event (not having a bitter errr better half helps but unfortunately all our parents are keen on rectifying that). And so we made a pact. Not as dramatic as the pact as the one made in the Lord of The Rings or in the United Nations but it was close enough.


F1, F2 and I thus created the Helpline for Evacuation of Languishing Pals (H.E.L.P), an organisation that has the following rules
- A member of H.E.L.P will always assist a fellow H.E.L.P member, whatever the circumstances the rescuer is in
- Any guy who is a member of H.E.L.P and has been asked the dastardly question "Does this dress make me look fat" will immediately send the following sms HELP to our secret number
- On receiving his sms, our systems will track down his location (God bless technology!) and send instant sms alerts to all other H.E.L.P members in the vicinity
- All nearby H.E.L.P members will rush to the location and assist in the immediate evacuation and rescue of the victim
- It is recommended that the rescuing H.E.L.P party uses one of the following excuses to enable the rapid escape of the unfortunate victim
a. Your uncle has died, I’m sorry. You need to come to the hospital immediately
b.Thank God I found you. The boss has been trying to get in touch with you for the last few hours.
c. Do you know (insert name of high sounding official), then come with us without a moments delay. This is a matter of national emergency.
d.Your dog has died. You need to come to the vet clinic immediately.
e. That critical assignment is due in 2 hours, come immediately.


Be prepared my fellow brothers. One knows not when the cursed question may befall thee. Pay a minimal joining fee and ensure that you are safe and sound every time you go shopping. So that instead of having guys discreetly watch you getting dissected, you can instead have the very same guys help you escape nature’s wrath with a single sms. Remember, we at H.E.L.P are always there to help.