Sunday, May 29, 2011

[Funny Story] The Sleeping Beauty Story

There she was single, happy and fine in her simple house in a simple city away from the worrying of the traditional family values. She ran away from Haryana, from the horrible traditional join family to explore the world. Half way through she realized she didn’t have money to even reach Nizamuddin station of new Delhi, but that would not stop her. She hitched rides, took lifts and scrambled on the streets on Mumbai with only a torn sleeve, only that got caught in a nail on the way.

Mumbai, the city of freedom, she thought, away from the house, away from the family. The family had only one ambition, marry her off to some ‘mucchad’ (man with mustache) and expect her to chose in 10 minutes. But she choose freedom and flew to mumbai to pursue the dream to become a fashion designer.

3 years and she established herself in the city, bickering over phone with her mother on freedom and marriage and what not. The bickering continued until one day I slammed the phone on my parents forever.
It was a year after that one day, all the sudden, the door bell rang and with it entered her mom in her house.
Half expecting a big lecture on how marriage is important for a girl in the wretched country, she gave a wide fake smile but…

“You were right, kiddo…” her mom said, “Marriage serves us woman no good.”


“It is a bad idea to marry a man,” she said, “You father, that #%#$%@@, treated me like his slave, making food so many people, cleaning the house and all…”

Is this some kind of trick? She thought still unbelieving her mom.

“W…w…water?” she managed to mumble, clearly she was asking more than water.

“I have finally given divorce to your father… 30 years of my life I have wasted for no good reason.”
The whole world came crashing in front of her, should she be happy that her mom has understood her point, or should she be sad that mom has understood something more. The realization brought with it another question,

‘What will you do now?’ she asked.

‘What now… I am still young you know, 50 is the new 30, I always wanted to see the house of Shahrukh Khan, will go there tomorrow. I have told firmly to your dad that Ill be staying with you until I win the house in court case. Don’t you worry, will you… we will live like room-mates,” her mom said, not realizing the conversation was getting awkward at every word.

‘But…’ no words came out of her mouth further.

‘Don’t worry beta,’ her mom smiled, ‘I know about all the boys and stuff, don’t worry. Tell me when one comes around ill take a walk around the market for two hours…’

‘Holy….fish…’ she exclaimed, ‘No no… not that…’ It was weirder her mom allowing her all the things, but she was more scared will it be other way around.

As her mom settled down in her house, she realized she has slammed shut the doors to the freedom. However freedom her mom may say, it was still weirder mom not talking active interest in her daily life. More so, waving her good bye for late night movies with her boyfriend.

That was the last time, she slept peacefully in the house. Her colleagues saw her sleeping with her head hung low on the site of their events, silently sobbing for the weirdly missing the freedom in her own house. Didn’t she ask the same from God? She never realized it would come to such weird proportions.

When life stands to explain itself, what is fun in there?

Saturday, May 21, 2011

The problem with troubleshooting is that trouble shoots back

'Dude there is some problem with my kaamputer...' this single line heard have given me shivers more than I could think of. The problem on any kaamputer can range from the computer still running on windows 98 (yes 98, yup... I know. ) to the effect of making easy money by winning lotteries on the internet to some shady software from Godknowswhere installed on the machine.

Computers are like Gods; lots of rules and no mercy and their entire mercy is spent on people who do not understand computers and still find it hip and cool to posses one.

'It seems there is some sort of virus in the computer,' he said one day agitated.
'Did you install a anti-virus software?' I asked, knowing the answer was known.
'Erm no, do you have any pirated one?' he asked.
'Go to hell, I don't do illegal stuff...' I replied politely.
'You are so useless, whats the use of sitting on the internet for all the time, if you don't have softwares. See the so-and-so friend, he gives all software for free...'
I was going to explain him the piracy and stuff, but then gave up and checked his computer.
'Dude, this is windows 98....' I shreaked but then again I  gave up, packed my stuffed and walked out of the city with my head hung low. After 7.22 kms of travelling, I got down from my bike and screamed loud on the street. Felt a lot better. Then I went back and looked at him.
'Windows 98 is better re, its stable...' he concluded.
Well... again I drove 7.22 kms.

It is much easier to explain sex to a virgin, that to explain computer to a layman. More than that its boring.
'Wow thats a heavy laptop,' I exclaimed looking at the brand new computer.
'Yeah, you know I have filled it with lot of data...' he replied proudly.
I stared at him for a complete one minute and then gave up. What was the point anyway?

There are three things certain in life, death, a phone call from the credit card company to sell you one and lost data. The chances you will miss that data 5.2 months after the lost are confirmed. When I was working part-time in a cyber cafe during my engineering days, I met with many adventures on daily basis.

One fine day a old man, older than Amar Singh, apparently stepped into the cafe wanting to open a email id. Now, back in those days Gmail was for cool people only, opened by invitation only (I was proud to own one)  so I helped him open a yahoo email id (back in those days it was cool to have a yahoo id)
Four days later than man came to the cafe wearing a old rusted suit, 'Thank you very much sir,' he said, 'For opening my email id, you know I never believed those who said you can make money on the internet, but my email id was randomly selected for the Microsoft lottery. The people who make windows sir, they are making me a millionaire.' he beamed.
A small particle hit my stomach at half the speed of light. It took me 2 hours to explain him what is spam and how bad it is, poor soul and to think he wore his wedding suit that day.

There are those who like websites so much, they come to me with requirements,
'Hey dude you design websites no? Can you do mine?' (there is no question of money in between for they don't assume Ill charge anything for them)
'Erm... what do you want?' (I asked unsure if I should ask for money)
'You know simple website not that jazzy, just a few flash things here and there and this amazing video I shot on my mobile camera and you know some essays about me and my work, thats all...'
I stare at him in disbelief.
'OK, and we can do is, make the text in comic sans ms and you know...'
'Woah woah woah... what?' I stay shocked.
'You know comic sans...'
I don't hear the rest, kick my bike and drive 7.2 kms and scream.

For some people, hardware is that part of the computer which can be kicked hard. In my new job, when I was at client side collecting requirement, the firm was a reputed manufacturing unit and I was to design a system to facilitate their process.
Here is what one man said, 'And you see sir, the row should be highlighted in vibgyor colors so that I can understand and please use red, yellow and green combination so it resembles a traffic light...'
I looked at him in disbelief, 'What?'
'Are its computer you can do anything can't you?' he smiled eating Samosa and telling others how computer can do anything.
I looked at the glass door behind me and I picture Daya from CID breaking this door to rescue me. He didn't.

Staying in the field of computers for more than six years now, I feel I have lost my mind somewhere in transit, but I know that somewhere in the universe there is a backup drive of my mind preserved until eternity.

My friend Kartik, also a victim of computers, had the nerve to analyze computers, who also inspired me to write this article. Read about his adventures.

Remember, if it draws blood, its hardware, rest all is immaterial in life.

Image courtesy:

Saturday, May 14, 2011

The difference between Rape, Sex and Love

I was just rummaging through TV channels looking for some entertainment (obviously, I had not known the horrors of Indian television and obviously, now that I know, I won’t repeat it again) when I landed on a channel which showed some bizarre Bollywood movie (don’t ask me which, I am not yet subjected to such Bizarreness, crap, I don’t even know how to know which movie it was) which was portraying a court case of a rape victim.

The verdict went on something like this, from the bits that I picked up, the man that had raped her stood shamelessly in front of the girl, while the girl hung her head low in shame opposite to him. Apart from bad acting, one other thing I noticed was grossly mis-interpreted version of a court case of a rape victim.
I am not familiar with the legal proceedings, but my question is, rape is the fundamental aggregation on the soul of the woman. Can you penalize the guilty? Can the person who committed the horrible crime be punished enough for the trauma the woman has to undergo in case of rape? Obviously you can’t.

Another gross concept in the movie, which can be true, was the social pressure on the girl for not getting proper groom. Is our society so jobless that getting a groom for marriage is ultimate nirvana in life? Is there no other option available for you to do, like maybe get a life, get out of house, confident and brave and face the world out there and maybe fall in love again? Does the life ends with marriage? And yes does life ends with marriage before 25 years?

When a girl faces trauma like rape, abuse etc the first basic instinct is to shut up about it, else she won’t get a good groom or maybe she will be shamed in the society. This suppresses the feelings emerging out of the horror act and all the guilt, shame and anger get mixed up inside her and create her a hollow active volcano, ready for violent outburst. What is more important?
Saving the girl or punishing the guilty, we have to choose.

Again who is guilty? The person who raped her? The person who condemned her in shame for getting raped (usually mothers)? The person who deemed marked her as rape victim (the court, the society)? Who are we to judge what is right and what is wrong? The person who raped the girl is just the tip of ice berg for the trauma the poor soul has to face daily in and out. The prying eyes, the judging societies and unjust humans.

A few days ago, I was glancing at a news in news paper. The woman alleged she was ‘raped’ by her boyfriend in pretext of marriage. As ridiculous as this news sound, I realized that not only are we subjecting to rape trial cases in mockery, we have created mockery of the complete term of ‘rape’.
Having ’sex’ and a ‘rape’ are two completely different ideas. While the former is enjoying the feeling between two individual species, the later is aggression of the will power of one over another. The boyfriend in question can be charged under section 420 and 419, fooling people and definitely not under section 375 and Section 376(Rape).

Not only are we humiliating the victims of rape, we are also not worried about creating a mockery of the concept all together.
One of my noble friend one day spend an hour convincing that couples sitting on the rocks of the band-stand are shame to the country and culture. I reminded him, that they actually are safeguarding the ancient culture of our country, which is now engraved into stone at the temples of khajurao and many other temples in south and north India, at which he flinched his mouth.

Many scholars will argue that the engravings on the templates filled with lust and ecstasy should be buried down, but do they see that the couples sitting on band-stand or maybe the statues on the walls of Khajurao are busy in their own world and are not looking at you?

A levitated state separating them from the bounds of society, culture and worldly pleasures, deep in a trance, in peace, a state which many Sadhus and monks spend years attaining. By looking at them, we are the intruders.

We are the judges and the jury. These two sets of lovers are thus manifestations of nature, in all her myriad glory. The ancient people believe in submitting to those instincts which were natural, modern religious revolution suggest to go against the nature, thus creating the concept of lust, instead of love and giving birth to another rapist.

Nature does not judge, we humans do, a curse upon the entire humanity is that we have the brains to judge each other. A rape victim is subjected to humiliation at every step, every second, not understanding her plight and trauma sometimes by her own family. A confused soul self labels herself as rape victim and mocks the very concept of ‘rape’ while we all with our eyes judge the two people, celebrating the instinct of nature.
 We live in funny times indeed.

P.s. The torture of watching television has its own merits. If we suffer in this life, we get a better one in next. One prime time watch of a television channel, can make me the president of united states in next life. Just telling.

P.p.s Hope you understand the different in the three terms before your son in 7th standard does in Sex-ed classroom.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

The Surgical Strike

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 20; the twentieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.


Image - Window Rain Drops by Eric Alder
Courtesy - via

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Its a curse on humanity entirely that one letter can make a hero into a villain. Also, the notion of hero and villain entirely depends on which side of law are you standing. I think finally it was the O that made the entire different, O was chasing O which O was hunting O. One was chosen by masses, other emerged from and collected masses. Both brilliant orators, one the leader of largest and the most violentic group, other a leader of the largest and deadliest group. Both planned, one against other, and both for the greater good.
One cannot live while the other survives, one cannot survive while the other dies. To choose the hero and villain, you just need a little perspective.

The bullets firing around the compound, helicopters circling. How I wish it was my neighborhood, sadly it wasn't. Not that there is any terrorist living there, this is India, terrorist eat chicken biryani in jail and not my neighborhood.
But no, I was talking about my neighbor. Mr. Sama, this man is one 'O' in becoming the worlds most wanted terrorist but no one listens to him, not even his wife so chances of him running a terrorist camp is zero. But he is evil, he never returns the ball entering in his compounds.

Our society chairman, Mr. Bama, was hunting for Mr. Sama for last ten months. They hunted for him every where, but Mr. Sama was nowhere to be found. Ten months ago, Mr. Sama had burst some firecrackers inside the house of two society members. The two members troubled with this had left the society forever.

It had become a personal issue now, for Mr. Bama, who hunted Mr. Sama everywhere. Mr. Sama was slippery, he hid himself carefully away from privy eyes and then send fort his sons to create more and more nuisance in the society.

Mr. Bama finally, zeroed down the location on Mr. Sama and after ten long months, the security guards of society found Mr. Sama hiding behind the bed, scared and putting his wife in front to escape the inevitable.
The security guard kicked him and his son out of the society.

Finally there was peace, wasn't it? You wish, become unlike chess, in real like, the game moves on even after check-mate. There were many supporters in society who simply stood where Mr. Sama stood and the whole drama repeated for another eternity.

And the thing about eternity is, it begs a simple question, when will it end? and worst... how will it end? Food for thought?

You differ? Of-course you do, thats the beauty of it.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Of Baba's, Business and Bakwass!!!

Did you hear the story of the foreign atheist who once landed in India and after staying here for few days, immediately walked into the church to pray? When asked him what did he see in India, he replied, 'This is a country of 1200 million. No one has the slightest interest of improving it, developing it or even correcting it. They are divided on every issue in the country and every state you walk on has a different story. No one has a slightest idea what is happening in the 7 states in the country and every department has come up with a scam. Yet, this country has become the 5th largest economy in the world. Now, isn't that enough proof that God exists?'

India is all that, every third person you bump on the road is a Godmen, reincarnation of a Godman or worst, God himself. The other two are his followers. Usually, I am an agnostic, its not that I do not or do believe in God, it is just that I don't care. I do what I want to do and let God do what he wants to do. But then once in a while some delusional fool walks into my holy sanctum (read: the holy bedroom where I spend most of my living life) and intends to bring with it the wraith of Gods.

"You know you should come with me to Baba Banghari," he said sipping the last cup of coffee from my coffee maker.
I was anyways frustrated because that was made for me but controlling myself, "Who Baba Bhangari? Bhangar in marathi means garbage."
"Oh no, he is from Karnataka and in Kannada Bhangar means Gold," he replied, matter of factly, "This Baba Bhangari is the second incarnation of God himself. He produces gold chains from thin air and then for many people he gives ash also as prasadam."
"Erm... why gold chain to some? and why ash to others..."
"That is because of donation, if you donate him more than lakh you get a gold chain. But the chain that he produces comes directly from heaven man, he has direct connection with God himself."
"They say, Baba Bhangar gets all the illness from his devotees on himself. All you have to do is, believe in him and pay a large donation to his Ashram, he will take all your illness on himself..." he said and joined his hands in the air as if his Bhangar baba was standing up there.

"Dude, clearly this guy is selling you his piss and you are drinking it with ecstasy..." I told him.
"No brother, that's the sad part. We get his piss to drink only on poornima and only the higher echelon gets it, we don't. They say you have to earn the right to drink his piss...." he said again joining hands in the air.
I did the same, for a man who convinces him to drink piss, is really God or worst, God-man.

When it comes to business, I have a simple rule, its called ROI, return on investments. When I got a cryptic call from a girl I was alarmed, 'Hey listen. I need to talk to you, not on home, can you come over this Saturday.'

Now, I am not the one who answers a booty call, but the girl in question was the one I was trying to impress since school days. So, I happily walked towards her house, only to see a white board, white board markers, free coffee (no complaints here) waiting for my arrival.

Not knowing the purpose of the calling, I looked around the room confused, when it dawned on me. Move over MLM, this was a new idea of giving surveys online and making a billionaire. The person waiting for me was wearing a polished shoes and a decent tie. I felt a bit ashamed as I had walked in there in cargo shorts and simple Tshirt. The man in tie started explaining me, how I can earn billions by giving online surveys and as a proof also showed me some scanned copies of cheques received by people. Funny thing, how in this MLM world, there is always someone, who knows someone, who knows someone, who earns a lot of money from the schemes.After listening to half an hour from this man, the insecurity of wearing a T-Shirt slowly, for he was just another snakes skins oil salesman, selling me the age old product... crap...or should I say piss?

As I walked towards my house, detest and defeated, I realized, isn't this what they call Kalyug? A man waits for another man to serve piss as holy water. Another man tries to convince me to convince some else to join him. Everyone trying to find their existence in this world, everyone trying to something they are good at... bakwas!!!!

Have you read my book yet?

Have you read my book yet?
An epic adventure across space and time