Mood Indigo 05 Rocks!!!

In case you people are wondering why it is that after 5 continuous, hilarious posts I chose to be away for a few days, the answer to it lies in the title of this article. I was associated with the Nation's greatest, biggest, largest, bestest (if there is any such word) College Festival i.e. Mood Indigo at Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay. I spent four fantabulous days there. The atmosphere was simple mind-blowing, not to mention the sheer number of junta that turned up to attend this festival. IIT B was host to people in excess of 10^5 in the four days, a record of sorts, even by MI standards! The reason for that is obvious : Just have a look at the people who performed at MI 05.

Shaan, Vayu, Helga's Funk Castle, Sceptre, P. C. Sorcar Junior, Indian Ocean, Pt. Shiv Kumar Sharma, Pt. Ronu Mazumdar.

Added to this were zillions of other attractions, including competitions galore with lots of prizes to be won. And if you were not interested in the competitions, there were a lot many single females roaming around on the IIT B campus, a highly unusual sight that! I propose to write a lengthier article about it later. Currently, I am recovering from the after effects of partying hard!!!

Mumbai Schnorrer

Recently, I had the chance to see the life of a Mumbai schnorrer, up close and personal.

I know, I know. You people are probably wondering just what the heck a schnorrer is. You wouldn't have been wondering if you had paid proper attention in your Std. XII English class. Because I definitely recall having read that particular word in some nook or cranny of the textbook. For the uninitiated, it means beggar. And for the uninitiated, I would suggest the "Radgovin's Giant Book of Highly Important Sounding Words that actually accomplish Zilch in any Interesting Conversation and which find absolutely zero utility in daily talk." (RGBHISWZIC) I realise that the title is long and some people will have trouble reading the book. But then, that is the intention of the book anyway, to make people realise the futility of things such as education for speaking better. Their education has not armed them with words such as floccinaucinihilipilification (second longest word in english language, a bizarre word which means 'to regard something as worthless'.) That is why, you people are better off buying my book. Try speaking English to any of the new generation so-called "English Medium" school students and you will realise why you are better off buying my book.

Student 1 : "Arre, I often wonder where the water going when I am done flushing"
Student 2 : "What re? You don't even knowing this much? Tchah! Arre, it going in the pipe and then it coming out of the top of the pipe, and then rain falls"
S1 : "You saying that the toilet water coming down as rain?"
S2 : "You not know that already?"
S1 : "I think I am going to be sick!" (Throws up on S2)

Now "overhear" this conversation between two enlightened students whose parents had enough money to buy them my book (which costs as much as the Encyclopedia Brittanica and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy put together and is only slightly thicker than the Oxford English Dictionary)

Undergraduate 1 : (Notice the difference? They no longer call themselves students) "Arre, I often wonder where the aqua going when I am done flushing?" (Notice the improved punctuation. This is not due to my book, but I never miss a chance at taking credit, even if it's not due to me!)

Undergraduate 2 : "What re? You not even comprehending this much? Tchah! Arre, it entering the conduit and then coming out from top of channel, evaporating, and then rain falls"

UG1 : "Are you insinuating that rain coming from toilet water"
UG2 : "You floccinaucinihilipilificating toilet water?"
UG1 : "I think my oesophagus is going to discharge the contents of my stomach!"

In case you have not noticed already, the italicised words indicate the words the kids have learnt from my book. Actually, not all of them are from my book, but the kids have followed my advice of keeping a thesaurus handy. Anyway, this article was about a schnorrer. But I guess I will have to deal with that later. I have already started receiving phone calls for taking up tuition classes for English!

Moving around the House

I am alone in the house. And this is a time when the devil takes over, in keeping with the age old phrase "An empty mind is the devil's workshop". Hold on, I think I am confused. Is it that my mind is empty because the house is? Or is it that you need to have a name other than Govindraj Umarji to have brains that are actually capable of thinking up creative and constructive ideas other than wild and wacky ideas to kill bees? Really! That is what I am doing right now. There is this huge colony of bees right outside my house and they have a fatwa out for me, because as a kid I had destroyed what was probably their great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granparents house. That was back in the early 80s, a peaceful time, when India was winning at cricket and the bees only had stings as a weapon and one ineffectual weapon it was; because it ended up killing them. The trendy, hip-hop bees these days have minor laser beams, which if all of them decide to use simultaneously could turn you from an organic being to organic carbon. And then "Ashes to ashes" would really and truly make sense. The ashes would probably move around in your "empty" house, as are the ashes of some other unlucky insects which chose to take on the bees.

To take my mind off the bee problem, I turn on the music system. I can hear George Michael croon away as I move around the house aimlessly. He's upset about having to be indoors all the time. He's singing "let's go Outside". He probably does not have bees lined up with their laser beams on the ready outside his house.

Bee Squadron Leader (Bhandup section) : "Men, have your weapons at the ready. We are going to nail him the moment he steps outside"

Let's go Outside, goes George again. If only he were in my place. I, on the other hand, have more important things on my mind. I am wondering what would happen if I were to burn the kitchen table under the bees' home.

"I think I'm done with the kitchen table, maybe" (This is George singing)

I desperately want to get rid of these bees once and for all. They are getting to be a real pain. They have not allowed me to step out of my house for more than seven years now. This is because it has only been seven years since they got those laser beams from Iraq. Or Afghanistan. I do not care where they got them from. Fact of the matter is that they have them and I am having to move around like a prisoner in my own home. By killing them, I think I will be serving the community because the world needs me to go out there to observe it's beauty and write about it.

"I'd service the community
But I already have you see" goes George Michael again.

Till now, I was able to voice my opinion about the world by listening to the radio and seeing television. However, nowadays, both these media have nothing else on the news than Saddam's trial, Ganguly's return to the Indian team and of course, the numerous sexual transgressions that seem to be plaguing the Indian BPO industry. But all that is of minor concern to me and of course to you faithful readers, who probably want me to step out of the house so that if the bees miss me, maybe the pollution will kill me. Or maybe a passing BEST bus driver would be considerate enough. I know people are just waiting out there to get me. I think it's the same people who gave the bees the lasers. George Michael is done singing. Pink Floyd comes on with High Hopes. The song's title exactly sums up my current plan to get rid of the bees. I think I am going to be inside for a while. At least till somebody uses a memory charm on the bees. Or the laser beams develop atrophy.

Seriousness and other Maladies

Of late, I have gotten into the habit of beginning my article with "Of late". And on a slightly serious note (as if that is possible with me), I have received threatening mails from many of my zany readers out there in readerland which claim that I am paying more attention to Ganguly's return to the Indian team than my own blog. I agree with them on this count, because that particular piece of news has had a traumatic effect on me. I am no longer the carefree person I used to be, a person who believed in the fairness of life (Alright, who am I kidding? I never believed in the "fairness" part, but I had thought that people will be intelligent enough to refrain from making similar mistakes!) I guess I was wrong about the people selecting the cricket team. And given all the serious stuff being pushed into our faces by all sorts of media these days, I am finding it extremely difficult to keep a smiling face. Imagine, me of all people having to sit with a smug face, because people find my other blog (I say "my" because it is maintained, after all, by my split personality) more interesting than this one!

I fail to understand why people like to read serious stuff anyway. And if you think people don't like to read serious stuff, I will suggest to you that you have the brains of a trout. Because nobody who has an IQ of greater than 50 (i.e. significantly greater than mine) will like to read articles about Somalian radio-active mosquitoes or about the life of Babas in India. They will probably like to read articles about sex. Now don't get me wrong here. I know the same people will also read articles about World Hunger, AIDS and SARS, but that does not necessarily mean that they refrain from the occasional pornography visual. And it is good in a way, because (and this is a fact) they are driving the internet economy. Really! The people paying the maximum bucks to ensure that deals done over the internet are safe are the people who host obscene and objectionable material! I have long maintained that sex is indeed the answer to the world's problems. If only we could stop being so seriously hypocritical about it. I mean, everybody does it, right from the birds and the bees up to the hippopotamus! The mujahideens and fiyadeens who carry out terrorist activities do so because they have the brains of a cockroach (IQ around 40) and also because they have been promised personal harems in jannat for carrying out the bidding of their "leaders". If their sexual desires are satiated right here on Earth, I don't think we will have another repeat of the 9/11.

But then, that is what a person of an IQ of 8 thinks (roughly 1 IQ unit per brain cell, down from 2 IQ units per brain cell pre-Iraq bombing). Sometimes I wonder if people do listen to what I have to say. They would if only they could take their eyes off the porn.

Babas and Education

The other day, I was wondering about the consequences of pairing up the infamous Babas and Babus: the former being self proclaimed seers and messiahs and the latter being the Government pencil-pushers. One cannot even begin to imagine the repercussions of such a move. Imagine having to bribe a babu at the gates of a huge mansion that is the "meditation" place for the baba. And after that, you can go ahead and meet the Baba, who will proceed to rid you of all your problems. No! I am just kidding! The only thing that the Baba will rid you of is your hard earned money, which in these days of inflation is of little use to you anyway and which you would have probably spent on useless things like educating your children and pension funds and what not. I say education is a useless thing beause it has done little for me, other than giving me the ability to write; which, given the reactions of some of my blog readers is not a good thing! However, this article is not as much about the great style of my writing as it is about Babas and their traits. It is a multi-crore business, this Baba thing, and it has given me an idea to improve the nation as a whole, by making myself and my well wishers rich. (who are significantly small in number, so that essentially means a lot of money for me)

I plan to start "Academy for Seers and Saints : HOlistic and LEthargic approaches" (Figure out the acronym for yourselves. I have given up on profanity. Hint : The capitalised letters will give the answer!) This Academy will have an underlying principle of the Golden Rule, which states that "He who has the gold, makes the rules!" And with a Dean like me to boot, this Academy is surely going to do well. I plan to teach the prospective Babas a lot many things, including but not limited to : conjuring up fruits from thin air, preparing special "bhasmas" for curing rare maladies, and of course the much vaunted art of ventrilouqy, to enable them to deliver verdicts on a person's fate in 3D surround sound. And then there will be lectures on economics, because previous experience has shown that the Babas are usually uneducated people who cannot differentiate between Rs.1 and Rs. 500 notes, which is seriously detrimental to the person seeking the Baba's advice as he will get to hoard his wealth, leading to the education of his/her children, who will probably end up writing blogs such as these : so in effect, I am rendering an invaluable service to the nation by preventing formation of new age blog writers such as myself! (What a sentence! Whoever can read this in a single breath will get a FREE counselling session with the Topper Baba of my Academy!)

Of course, you will be tempted to ask where are the profits for ME in this whole scheme of affairs. Well, if you have taken me to be a total dodo, I would like to thank you for the compliment. I believe that the dodos were the most intelligent of all species on the earth, because they rid themselves of the misery of living on this planet, which is going to come to an end soon anyway (thanks to my graduate babas). So, anyway, back to my profit making scheme. All Babas who graduate from the Academy will owe an allegiance to the Academy and since I am not a greedy person, they will have to give 99 percent of their profits to me. Hey, it is only fair that if a person is earning crores of rupees because of my investment in converting him from an uneducated, dishevelled, scrawny and seedy looking, income-less person to an uneducated, dishevelled, scrawny and seedy looking person who is earning crores of rupees, I deserve to keep the majority of the money. I wouldn't know about you, but I plan to shift base to another country once ten batches of my Academy are out. See you in Switzerland!

The Smallest Post Ever

I realise that my previous post was the smallest article I have ever written. But then, I believe I have covered all the matter that was there to be covered.

For those in the don't know, I was referring to the Indian Cricket Team ex-captain. And don't get me wrong here, I have nothing against the ex-captain. He is a good fellow : a person who likes to keep his cards close to his chest, very much like the cricket ball, which he keeps close to his chest when he runs in to bowl. And cows will fly the day he scores a century against Australia or South Africa. I cannot recall any particular good performance he has put in against the so-called "Top Teams". The only creditable performance due to him is the century he scored against Pakistan at Dhaka, when we successfully chased a target of three hundred and twenty four runs. And that was ages ago, as early as 1998.

But then, enough of Captain bashing. There are enough sites dedicated to that. For instance,
1. http://blog.kparthas.com/archives/2005/03/it_is_time_for.html
2. http://humorcafe.blogspot.com/2005/09/ganguly-jokes.html
3. http://mavdya.blogspot.com/2005/08/captains-secret-diaries.html
The last one is particularly hilarious. It has been written by a friend of mine. It's not as funny as the stuff you find on this blog, but it's a worthy mention. (I am such a modest person, aren't I?)
Just search for Ganguly Jokes on Google.com, you are bound to find a plethora of them.

On a slightly serious note, of late I have noticed (after writing as many as two posts post-sabbatical) that my articles are not as funny as they used to be. Many concerned readers have called me up personally to tell me this : You used to be funnier. I am not perturbed by this, though. I am used to this sort of thing. I have heard this comment from as early as my third post. Back then, I wasn't even trying to be funny. But I found that people often misconstrued my "serious" description of a scenario to be hilarious. That is when I realised that the twelve divided by seven has a remainder of 5. And way back in school, when I had the IQ of 12 (or roughly 2 IQ units per brain cell) I had written the answer as 4. This sudden realisation brought a world of change in me, as have the comments of the people who all said that I used to be funnier. I would like to cite a few of them here,

Dear Mr. Umarji,
We, the members of the Society of Online Women (SOW), sincerely request you to start your female bashing again. This is because the quantity of male chauvinist pigs out there is seriously diminishing and it is giving us SOWs sleepless nights. We are finding it difficult to keep our society running. So, please resume your "funny" female bashing so that we can sue you.

Warm regards,
The SOW Legal Team


Dear Mr. Umarji,
Ever since your articles have stopped being funnier, I am feeling suicidal. The humour in your articles used to brighten my day up. After reading your articles, I used to humour myself by thinking, "Aah... Here's a guy who's more stupid than I am". And now, you have taken to writing serious articles too. I personally think that it has had an effect on this blog too. I request you to kindly resume your "funny" writing so that I can get back to my normal life.

Sincerely,
Mr. Bush


Dear Mr. Umarji,
This is the Network Officer, Secrets EXchange , at Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay (NO SEX @ IITB). We have decided to restore your internet connection. This is partly because your IITB bashing has reduced and partly because you hog the Gents restroom adjacent to the Computer Centre for accessing the internet wirelessly and without being seen. The resulting chaos has led us to restore your LAN connection so as to ensure a non-smelly Computer Centre.

Regards,
NO SEX @ IITB

Frankly, I had no idea that my blog meant so much to so many people. I was really surprised and overjoyed at this. So much so that I actually jumped for joy in the restroom and caused some major damage in the process. Not that I was hurt seriously, but the same cannot be said about the faucets and the tiles in the aforementioned um aah... How do I put this without using profanity? What the heck, I think that people like my blog (Huh! Who said anything about liking?) because I boldly and unabashedly use words like flatulence and gents' room. I caused some damage in the rest room and I am glad I did it. It was a stinky little place anyway. Maybe they will rebuild it. That will make life mcuh more easier for me the next time the SEX NO decides to bar me from accessing the Internet.

Good things about the ex-captain

ZILCH!

What a Month!

No. I am not talking about the one that is yet to dawn upon us. I am talking about the month that went by. I appeared for six whole exams and not one of them needed creative writing as a pre-requisite; let alone humour. Actually, some of the answers I wrote would have made Dave Barry proud. In the sense that if it weren't for the supervisor keeping a constant vigil over the class, I myself would have burst out laughing at what I was writing. I am hoping that the Professor will give me credit for making him laugh.

No, seriously. I had no answer to questions like the following:
1. "What is the composition of the landfill leachate?"
2. "What is the composition of the landfill gas?"
3. "If a city generates 5000 tonnes of Solid Waste everyday, do you think Ganguly should be ousted out of India and not only the Indian Cricket team?"
Actually, I confess to having answered as many as ONE question from the above honestly and unfunnily (if there is any such word as unfunnily)

Other things that I did in the past month, other than mug up around a thousand odd pages of material for each exam, include :
1. A visit to INS Vikrant (Time spent : 6 hours in total)
2. Seeing the movie, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Really well made movie. I thought the book was the second worst ever written by JKR.) (Time spent : 6 hours in total)
3. Thinking about my blog and the day I could start writing again. (Time spent : 196 hours in total)

And here I am, writing once again, in what my dash board claims is my fortieth article. And I realise that I have been unable to make you junta laugh. I think it's a result of the examinations I went through. Or it could be the trauma of the news of Ganguly's return to the Indian Test Team.

A Sabbatical

I am taking a sabbatical from writing.

Why, you ask? Well, it's simple. Because I want to. Because it is the will of the Almighty that for a few days the Divine Spark which glows inside me, and which is a source of humour and enjoyment to all, should go kaput! Because I have a seminar presentation on the 11th and I have not yet decided what I am going to speak. Because my exams start from the 16th and I am unsure as to which paper is when, forget remembering what I have learnt till now.

These are some of the reasons for my taking a vacation. Another reason is that after reading some thought provoking, soul searching, stomach churning blogs by some of my colleagues, I felt really hungry and drank a lot of chicken soup. It was good for my soul, but it ended up hurting my tummy. But that is not the reason for taking a vacation. The reason is that after reading those blogs, I looked at my own blog and thought : "Man, I am definitely a better writer than all of them put together." The reason I felt so is because no one else can take something and make something funny out of it like I can. Let me give you an example

A man goes to a shop and asks the shopkeeper : "Why didn't the chicken cross the road?"
The shopkeeper is stumped. "Why?", he asks.
The man says, "Because I ate it!"
Ha ha ha. Get it? Because I ATE it! Now that is something, isn't it? I bet it had you rolling on the floor in splits. It's a different matter that the shopkeeper hit the man on his head with a bottle of Phenyl, probably because he thought it was the only way of killing him and more probably because it was the one closest to him. But I am deviating from the topic again. I realised that to be really appreciated as a writer, once in a while, you have to take some topic and write meaningful stuff about it. This got me thinking and the following paragraph is the outcome of intense soul searching and deep thinking (the kind that is associated with constipated people) for a period of two whole minutes. Imagine! I gave it my best shot. Two minutes is the maximum I can concentrate for, unless I am watching sleazy stuff on the television, which is hard to come by now-a-days, thanks to Prof. Naithani or some female named that in Mumbai.

Okay, here goes. In case you have forgotten, this paragraph is the one that I have written after intense thinking. So, a warning for the squeamish. Don't read past this sentence, if hearing about exploding toilets increases your palpitation or whatever it is that makes the liver go hay-wire.
One needs to think carefully about writing what one is writing. (The sensitive and intelligent writing has begun, you dummy!) One could go on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on on and on (Nice utility this Copy and Paste) talking about nothing in particular. I mean, what is the use if I keep on talking about nothing. I have to talk about something if I am ever going to make it big. But then, there is also the matter of pretending talking about something when actually, I am talking about nothing. All this nothing has got to lead to something for me to make sense, something which is lacking in this entire paragraph.

Whoa! I have written four hundred words already. I don't believe it. And around a hundred of those have come straight from the bottom of my heart in two minutes of intense brooding over a neat peg of rum. I am sure that my innermost thoughts have made you realise the futility of your life. So, here's a suggestion : Why don't you give all your money to me and let me do the thinking for you? In fact, if you send a cheque right now, I will probably waive a hundred rupees off the deal! Why, you ask? Because that is the kind of person I am, always looking out for others. I realise that you may need the hundred rupees to buy yourself a copy of "101 ways to commit suicide after giving all your money to crazed lunatics". So go ahead and write that cheque. I am waiting for it.

And in case you are late and miss the opportunity of the hundred rupees discount, don't worry. I always keep a Phenyl bottle handy! :-)

Career Counselling

I was recently called to give a talk about how to ace in CAT and GATE by my juniors at my alma mater. For those who do not understand Greek, let me tell you that alma mater is derived from the Latin words (or is it French?) alma, meaning "something" and mater, meaning "only the Greeks can understand"

Again, for the ignorant masses that roam around the internet, having no aim but to jump from blog to blog, here's an explanation as to what CAT and GATE mean. CAT is a fuzzy, furry animal whose sole aim in life is to regard it's owner with disdain until it is time for it to be fed. Whereas GATE is the thing that moves on it's hinges and serves an important function of preventing dogs and salesmen from entering your premises. And the dodos who believe what I just said are no better placed than the ones who had turned up to attend my talk about these competitive exams. (That is what CAT and GATE are, you dummies!)

So, there I was, at my old college, reminiscing the days I spent there. I have many memories associated with the place. The joy of learning new things, the joy of falling for the new girl in the class, the horror of realising that she is in fact the Dean's niece and many other things. And then there was the incident involving me and a couple of my friends. But I would like to refrain from writing it down here for the fear of letting the world know that it was we who did it! I think there is still a reward in the college for the person who comes up with information about the "Dean is a goon" scandal. Me and my friends, however, are safe because nobody, repeat, nobody, knows that we were the ones who painted those very words on to his niece's folder! Even now, I have nightmares that I have been caught for that particular misdeed. I shudder to think what would have happened to us if we had been caught. We could have been expelled. Worse, we could have been expelled after being forced to write "I will not paint "The dean is a goon" on the folder of the dean's niece" a thousand times on all the black-boards of the university. Now you guys know why Engineers are such good writers. We have undergone severe training. This is very much unlike the training that students of medicine undergo. They spend their time learning worthless things such as the size of the human stomach, how to cure cancer and AIDS, how to destroy SARS while their fingers slowly develop atrophy and consequently, their handwriting looks like some insect has been mauled over the paper!

So, anyway, now that you have forgotten the objective of this article, here's a reminder. I was talking about the lecture I gave at my alma mater. Actually, it's about the lecture I almost gave. There was a large crowd gathered outside the auditorium where I was supposed to speak. At first I thought that some sort of freebies were being distributed there. That was the only time me and my friends were to be found together in the college in such huge numbers. But, as I later realised, these people had come there to listen to me! At this point, I had a realisation. That the juniors were more "career-oriented" than I could ever hope to be. And another, more pressing realisation that the car that had brought me here was waiting with the motor running and I could make a dash for it anytime I wished. And that is what I did.

I had almost made it. The moment I was going to jump inside through the door, a strong pair of hands pulled me out physically from the car. At first, my thoughts were muddled. I thought this was all a bad dream and that I was going to wake up and find that I was late as usual for my lecture back here at IIT Bombay. But then, someone pinched me, and I was still there in my old college, with no place to run. I was forcefully taken to the stage and a mike was forced into my hands. I looked around the crowd for some known face, someone who could provide me some moral support. But all I got from the crowd was serious stares, with a look that said, "If you don't tell me what I need to know to get into IIT/IIM I am going to smash your head with the dean's niece's sandal!" Now, this put me in a fine pickle, because what the crowd didn't know was this : I got admission to IIT B because the cousin of the daughter of a friend's cousin sister twice removed is the son-in-law of the great-grandfather's nephew of the cousin brother of Sachin Tendulkar. No wait. I think it is someone related to Dr. Manmohan Singh. But you get the gist. And there was no way I could reveal this to the crowd here. So, I did the next best thing. I fainted.

When I awoke, there were a few hopeful students still standing there. A few asked me about my health. Some sought tips about appearing for the exams and the kind of questions to expect and the type of preparation to be put in. And there were the guys who had the nerve to ask me for the address of the cousin of the daughter of a friend's cousin sister twice removed who is the son-in-law of the great-grandfather's nephew of the cousin brother of Dr. Manmohan Singh. I was loathe to give them that address, seeing as in I am probably going to require that person's help again if I am to escape writing "I will not paint "The dean is a goon" on the folder of the dean's niece" a thousand times on all the black-boards of the university.

Change of Article

Hey, this article is just to get the article about the flatulence off the numero uno position. Really, I have been getting a lot of attention for talking about a taboo. As I have realised, talking about flatulence in social circles is a big n0-no. And although my blog does not constitute a social circle (and does not even try to pass off as one), I felt that the readers' wishes ought to be respected. It's like this : Person A cannot stand talk about farts and other bodily gaseous wastes and Person B can. But does that mean Person B is wrong? Although each person is entitled to his opinion, the opinion of Person B is wrong. Person B is an idiot, according to (as I found out) Rules for talk AT Social GATHERings. (RATSGATHER). This, obviously, is not a web-site; it's a figment of my imagination. But then, I am a person A type of person, who is conscious about etiquette and knowledgeable talk. (Actually, knowledgeable talk is not exactly my cup of tea. You will find that out if you go through my other posts!)

Anyway, I hope this article serves it's purpose (which is, in case you have forgotten, which is what I wanted you to do in the first place and therefore I am defeating the whole purpose by explaining tha purpose of the article! Geesh! That was one long sentence.) So, here goes. The purpose of this article is to get the focus off the previous article. I have received a lot of hate mail for having put up such obscene stuff. And as a newly accepted member of RATSGATHER, I think it is my duty to refrain from such activities. Therefore, unless there is a really pressing reason for me to put obscene stuff up again, like America screwing up in it's efforts to rehabilitate the world (which is going to happen pretty soon, so you can expect obscene stuff pretty soon), I will not do so. And I hope you have forgotten the reason for this article.

Indoor Air Pollution

This post has got nothing to do with a similar post elsewhere. Specifically, at Serious musings of a Questioning mind. I maintain that the person who writes that blog is one of my multiple personalities. Other personalities, about whom you might have heard, are indulged in society improving activities such as murdering politicians and corporators, cleaning the gutters of Mumbai, etc. Well, not really. Cleaning the gutters of Mumbai is not exactly a good thing to do. Getting rid of the blood stains is easy enough : you can look it up in the Murderer's Manual for Dummies. But the stains that one may get after cleaning the gutter are unimaginable. Who knows what sorts of pollutants enter the gutters of Mumbai? Which brings me to today's topic of pollution inside houses.

There is a simple remedy to prevention of pollution indoors. Which is this : Ban the production of all sorts of protein containing beans! Yes! Nature has given these beans the power to generate flatulence, in an effort to reduce the human population by sheer force. In the sense that nature wants people to die trying to hold their breath rather than take in what is probably a malicious odour! I will try to explain the phenomenon of flatulence, which in some crude and un-informed sections of the world, is called a "fart".

When you eat something, the food that is chewed enters the bronchial cord. No wait. I think it enters the fallopian tube. Oh, just forget it. Whatever does enter, finds it's way to the stomach. And nothing can be said about the food that remains in the mouth, because given the highly advanced tooth brushes we have today, there is every probability that you are using the tooth brush in a "wrong" way and hence it is not serving it's purpose. So, the food that remains in the mouth probably remains there your whole lifetime and get's removed only in your old-age, when your teeth fall off. But I am deviating from the topic at hand here. We were at the stage when the food has reached the stomach, after it's journey through the vestigial tubes. In the stomach, the food is broken down into two major categories : solid and gas. At this stage, this particular phenomenon is fine, because the gas that gets produced in the stomach comes out only as a "Burp!" from the mouth, and is usually non-smelly, unless the food stuck in your mouth has been degraded very badly. And if you have some manners and etiquette, or sheer skill such as me, you can disguise the burp quite effectively, making it sound like a car back-firing in the neighbouring building.

After the stomach, the solids travel through another set of tubes. Sometimes I wonder why all the systems in humans need to have tubes. I mean, the food we eat passes through tubes, our blood travels in tubes, there is a tube in our ear, etc. There is even a tube through which liquid can pass, though it is external to our body. No, you perverts! I am not talking about the bodily organ involved in reproduction. I am talking about straws with which we sip our cold drinks. Sheesh! These days you got to be careful to ensure that you are not misunderstood. It is in these tubes (not the straws, you dummy!) that the problem of flatulence finds it's origin. There are some bacteria planted there by nature, who have malicious intent. Any time they find any sulphur, which is present in unnaturally high quantities in beans, they go into over-drive and start a war dance around lighted bon-fires. Actually, what they do is called "Fermentation", which is a Greek word, combined from the Latin words "Fer" and "Mentation". Fer means "around a bon-fire" and Mentation means "to dance". So, these bacteria do what they were put into the human body for. Namely, they convert harmless food substances into smelly gases. And this is where the problem begins.

The intestinal tubes, or wherever it is that the gases are produced, are located quite close to the brain. And the gases make you "heady", if you get my drift. So in an induced seizure caused by the "high" brain, the tubes collapse, forcing whatever gas is there inside them to come out of the body with an amazing amount of force. To understand the magnitude of this force, consider the following example. If you "farted" in the vicinity of an ant, you would probably find it thrown away quite a distance and on inspection and scientific analysis, you would find that it is dead. The reasons for it getting thrown away are not yet clear. But you know why it is dead : Lack of Oxygen! Anyway, flatulence, as I said earlier is quite a nuisance and is also a biological hazard. Hence, it has tremendous potential to be used as a Biochemical warfare weapon. This is probably the principal reason why the US desperately wants us to sign the non-proliferation treaty. We, as a country, consume around a zillion "pounds" of proteinaceous beans everyday. And given the unpredictable nature of the south western monsoon winds, who knows which fart may land where? Currently though, it seems that all the flatulence in the country is finding it's way to places like Kurla and Bandra, which is why they are smelly. Not to mention the pubs and the bars which smell really bad. This is an example of indoor air pollution. It is very dangerous and immediate measures need to be taken to handle the situation before it gets out of hand!

The other blog is up!

To enhance my quest for some free publicity, I have put up another blog.

You can visit it by clicking the post title or by clicking Serious musings of a Questioning mind.

This is a sincere and honest attempt at gaining double the existing recognition, by utilising two blog pages for advertising my writing prowess.

Jokes apart, the other blog is going to be about serious stuff, and is probably going to be updated on saturdays only. (The only day I have some leisure time and can devote it to some thinking. This blog doesn't require me to think.) The reason for this being that Saturday is the day when I can read the newpaper at leisure, without having the niggling thoughts at the back of my mind about impending assignments, lab reports, etc. Those niggling thoughts are for Sundays!

Moving the Earth

Archimedes had said : Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.

I have a plan to move Earth too. But it centres around the concept of Newton's Third Law of motion and not the concept of the lever. Now, I know that the regular readers of my blog (as if there are thousands of them!) are probably wondering if it is indeed Govindraj who is writing the post, because even after as many as three lines, there has not been a funny word, forget a funny, rib-tickling sentence. It is indeed I and for once, I have decided to be serious about my blog posts. I have realised that every person should have a challenge in his/her life. And the person should think of things other than whether he has taken a bath in the morning or not. I, for one, do that every day. Not the bathing. The thinking. So, this morning I decided to challenge myself to write an article that was mentally stimulating and would be well received in scientific circles. These scientific circles like to indulge in what is called "Mental Masturbation". They stimulate the brain cells and then they do nothing more interesting than solve some problems such as finding the distance between two stars located three hundred zillion light years away. As if that is of any real utility to the poor dumb species that inhabit this planet. A more practical research would be to find out how to make oneself disappear. This will be of particular use when a person encounters an embarassing situation.

I say this because I recently was invited to a party where the hostess was a huge lady, who had a booming voice. And she was boring everyone to death by voicing out her opinions about the state of the country. The only reason all of us remained seated where we were was that the sound waves emanating from her mouth had such force that they kept us rooted to our seats. Another reason was probably the fact that dinner was yet to be served and her chef was known for doling out exotic and exquisite delicacies. Now, due to the divine smell wafting in to the hall from the kitchen tingling my nasal sensors, I had developed a primal urge to make a dash for the kitchen and eat whatever it was that was giving off the smell. And I had nearly made it to the kitchen when the hostess saw me.

Hostess : "Where are you going, Govindraj?"
Me : "I was wondering what the distance between Alpha Centauri and Sirius could be! So, I was making my way to the gallery to find out"

As you can see, the ability to disappear would have served me much more purpose than the distance between the two stars (I have a niggling doubt if they are even two different stars. I think they are the same star!) So, I think that the scientific cirlces should get their act together. But then, they are the only ones who are the most respected in the whole world. Which brings me to my topic for today's post, which you have probably forgotten by now. I want to propose a method to move earth so that I can be well-known in the world, once my critical review of the mechanism of the earth's rotation and the way to change it has been accepted.

Some posts ago, I had proposed the idea of all the local train travellers in Mumbai jumping off together to trigger an earthquake. That I realise, was unscientific, in the sense it was a bad idea to ask people to jump off the train. They might hurt themselves in the process. And of course, there was the small matter of the earthquake, which would probably send tsunamis to the neighbouring country, about which I care two hoots. Anyway, I have come up with a better plan. Which is this. All Indians should stand in straight lines extending from Kanyakumari to Srinagar and then walk from the west towards the east. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This will result in the rotation of earth in the opposite direction or atleast a stopping of rotation. For rotating the earth in the opposite direction, we would need to enlist the support of the Chinese.

Now, you will be tempted to ask the practical utility of this. Well, for starters, we could maintain day over India whenever we wanted to. Better still, by preventing the motion of earth, we could have a extended night, so that we could sleep till our heart's content. To continue the night, we could take turns at walking in the straight line. And we could black-mail the sparsely populated western, developed countries into submission to our demands. The idea is infallible. Now you probably understand why they say that India's population is it's strength. I think we should put this plan into action as soon as possible, along with the Somalia mosquito plan (The Powai Lake and National Interests) We will very soon become a super-power!

Google Page Rank

Hey, check out what Google claims is their way of "ranking" a page. And their own page has a Google Page Rank of 8 / 10!
Google Toolbar Help

And my blog has a page rank of 3 / 10! I hope I can raise it to 9 / 10!

Musings at 0000 hours

Hmm. Long day ahead tomorrow and no inkling in my mind as to what the coming day has in store for me. Maybe I will get some sort of an inspiration from somewhere, that will change my life by converting me from a lazy slob to a workaholic. And maybe Bangladesh will win the Cricket World Cup in 2007. In case you haven't noticed, both of these are highly improbable events, seeing as my biggest daily activity is moving my bodily self from the hostel to the Centre for Environmental Science and Engineering (CESE, where I study) and back. Notice, I say my physical self. Never have I claimed that my mental presence is in the class room. My mental presence is usually back at the room, sleeping. I leave it every morning, lest it lose it's beauty sleep!

Zzzzz....

Centre is East : East is Left.

What I am going to say now will not be looked upon as news by those in the know. For those in the don't know however, this will come around as quite a shock.

I had set my first foot in the world of blogging with an intention of writing serious stuff, things that mattered to me, things that made me sit up and take notice. But somewhere down the line, after writing as many as two posts, I decided that the world was too serious already. I mean, if you surf around the blogger site, you will find loads of people unloading their emotional baggage, reeling off their worst fears, the facts about how the government is ruining the country and what not. I decided I wanted to be different. Similar, but different? Don't get it? Well, here is an explanation :

I love to lament about the state of affairs in my country. Believe me, I have so many facts and so much data about how and what is going wrong, when and where in the country, I could have written pages for a single post! This data I have gleaned during my travels around the internet, browsing through magazines, tabloids, and of course the news papers. Also, since I have access to the internet for free, I have also had time to look up some porn sites. But that is besides the point. What I would like to state here is that I am a well read person. And even if you wake me up in the middle of the night to ask what is the capital of India, I will nonchalantly say Kolkatta.

No, this is not a joke, as you might be inclined to think. Think about it. The government at the centre is currently being so pressurised by the Left, I sincerely believe that it is being run from Kolkatta. The centre is being forced to give up good plans that can work for the better of the country due to the lack of foresight (origin : from the word four-sight, meaning a person who wears double battery spectacles) and Bangla jingoism ( if there is any such thing ) of the Left. How else do you explain their acceptance of FDI ( Foreign Direct Investment, for the uninitiated ) in West Bengal and their vehement opposition to the same at the centre? Really inexplicable. Even more so, because all these people are guys and not females. If all of them were females, I would have just put it off as a sex thing. But I now I am seriously beginning to doubt their sanity. I think I will write a letter to my Warden and ask him to send those guys to spend their time with me here at the Mental Correction Institute.

I'm sorry. When I had started out writing this post, I had every intention to be as serious as possible. But I lost it after writing about three words. But I believe that the point I wanted to bring out has been dealt with. Which is this : Centre is Left. And although Left is not right, they have the might!

Laws : Love - Hate Relationships

I HATE LAWS. No, I am not a law-breaking red-neck. I am not talking about the laws made by the puny humans to keep other miserable planet-fellows under control. I am talking about the laws of nature, the ones which govern each and every minute particle in the entire universe. My problem is specifically with the Law of Conservation of Mass.

Let me get a bit technical here. The Law of Conservation of Mass states that the absolute value of the tangent of the angle between the roof of your house and Maitri station in Antartica (or wherever it is that the Indians landed) is the root function of the inverse sigmoidal square root of the weight of the earth. For the non-technical people : this essentially means that the author has a knowledge of science which is numerically equal to ZILCH! Actually, it is somewhere in between zilch and a little more than zilch, but I know enough to understand what the Law of Conseration of Mass means. ( I asked my 17 year old nerd neighbour to explain it to me! )

What the nerd said has really amazed me. He said that basically, all the things in this universe are indestructible! Imagine! And my mother used to scold me in my youth for being a destroyer of so many things! So, he explained to me, that mass cannot be destroyed. It can only be converted from one form to another. This gave me an insight, which once I reveal to you, you are going to wonder why you didn't think of in the first place. But if you had been that intelligent, you wouldn't have been guessing the answer of 2 x 7, back when you were in school.

The insight I had is this. If mass can never be destroyed, then where does it go when someone loses weight? Huh? I will tell you where it goes! It goes in someone else's tummy! Yes! This is the truth. You were wondering all these years how you were putting on weight? Well, there is the explanation for that! And this insight made me think of an idea to improve the world as a whole by making myself rich! Here is what I plan to do.

I have been putting on a lot of weight recently for no apparent reason. So, I plan to read tomorrow's tabloid (very famous newspaper) and find out which celebrity has lost how many kilo gram of weight. I am sure they will include that data. They have the penchant for printing absolute rubbish that has absolutely no utility. So, if I find a celebrity who has lost EXACTLY the same amount of weight as I have gained, I will threaten him to start loosing weight myself, thereby ensuring that his efforts will be in vain. And that way, I can black-mail him to make myself rich. I realise that this is an unethical way to get rich, but I cannot help it. Life is not fair and even Nature will second my thoughts. Why else would I have gained weight without even hogging? Here's my daily diet :
Morning Breakfast : 2 cups of coffee, black, with 4 tea spoons of sugar
Two egg omelet, topped up with a full glass of milk and honey

Afternoon Lunch : Usually some form of read meat or chicken, preferrably the fried variety, with three servings of rice, around a dozen chappatis, give or take three. Lots of daal (protein intake!) and around 500 gram of salad

Evening snack : Two cups of coffee, black with 4 tea spoons of sugar
Repeat of breakfast, basically

Night Dinner : I usually have a light dinner, as advised by my dietician.
It consists of : Macher jhol (Fish curry, in Bengali), Pot Roast, Corn on the cob, along with an extra large serving of butter chicken, a steak which has been well done (I hate rare steaks!)
All this is I drain down my system with around a litre of alcohol in the rum form. Occasionally, if I feel like it, I have a double or a triple sundae. It depends on whether I am dieting or not.

As you can see, I live a hermit like life and no one can accuse me of putting on weight for lack of diet control or non-existence of exercise. Why, I actually walk all the way down the hall to fetch the paper every day, a distance in excess of twenty meters! Not to mention the amount of exercise I get shifting the couch daily, so that I can have it in front of the television where I like it.

The reason I said I have a love-hate relationship with Laws should be evident to you now. If it isn't, I guess you must still be wondering what 2 x 7 is. The reason is as simple as this : I hate Law of Conservation of Mass because it makes me fat and I love it because it is going to make me rich! Can't live with it, can't live without it!

By the way, 2 x 7 = 17.

Straight Dope : Those were the days

Back when the Internet was young and the porn sites were yet to make an impact, there was in existence (and still is) a web-site called Straight Dope. This was one of the first sites dedicated to humour. Of course, now-a-days, it's readership has decreased, thanks to yours truly writing such excellent humour columns! And I think that this will be the status quo for a long period of time. As long as Dave Barry doesn't find out that I am copying his writing style of booger journalism, not to mention the word "booger journalism" which I believe he himself has coined!

There is a very interesting idea expressed on Straight Dope. It is this : If all the Chinese in the world jumped of their collective chairs after climbing on them, would the earth be thrown off it's course? Intriguing? You bet it is. And this has led me to today's blog. What will happen if all Indians jump off their collective chairs? I shudder to think of the implications.

But there will definitely be some hindrances in the process of jumping : the primary one being that not all Indians possess chairs. And those who do possess them have ensured that regular maintenance of the chair has been a non-event. Therefore, I seriously doubt if all Indians would ever be able to jump off at the same time. And even if they did, I think the effect would not be momentous, mainly because of the Green House Effect and the fact that the sine of 53.58 is 0.80468660605489181240281217497668. Also, one would have to take into account the local factors for India, like corruption, untruth, and the fact that a significant population of India is travelling in local trains of Mumbai at any given time. I think we should change the question to what will happen if all the local trains of Mumbai collapse at the same time. An earthquake is a given, with other possible repercussions being major Tsunamis in the Arabian Sea, which will drown the better part of Eastern Africa. Such is the population of Mumbai. These statements I am making on the basis of unbiased and intelligent research; deep and qualitative thinking done over a period of two hours and a few tequila shots.

Anyway, before I stray from the point at hand, and this usually is true about all my posts, seeing as that I am drunk most of the times, I would like to make another authoritative statement. This is regarding the state of Population in Mumbai. I recently read a survey which said that more than 70% of the metropolis' population is compromised by... oops comprised of people from the Northern states. Now, I am not a person like Mrs. Patkar, a well known publicity stunt specialist, employed by the World Bank, and I don't crave for attention. I am not an attention seeker, probing here and there for some unasked for publicity. Hence, I will not call the people from the Northern states "Bhaiyyas" as they are called in Mumbai. I will not call them such names, because that is the kind of person I am! And the authoritative statement that I wish to make is this : If all the people from the Northern states who reside in Mumbai jump off the local trains of Mumbai simultaneously, the ensuing earthquake would measure a whopping 9.3 on the Richter scale. Also, it will prod the dormant Salsette mountains of Mumbai into a lava spewing frenzy. Yes, this is true. It is the result of another hour of thinking at my favourite haunt.

Barman! Get me another Tequila shot, will you?

The Bad Phase

There comes a time in every person's life when he or she has to look back at his/her life and wonder.... "Where the hell did I keep my underwear?"

Seriously! All people, some time in their life, go through this phase of life, searching for their underwear frantically in the cupboard, under the bed, and finally finding it right beside the dining table. Your guess is as good as mine as to how it reached there. It is one of those inexplicable vagaries of nature. But this article is not about missing inner wear. This is about the bad phases in life, although missing underwear does constitute such a phase.

People have bad phases in life so that they can appreciate the good phases better. Yeah, right! I sometimes wonder if the person who wrote this sentence had the brains of an ant-eater. The person writing this sentence is a certified intellectual, you dodos. I am talking about the person who came up with the first sentence of this paragraph. There is no such thing as a good phase in life; there are little less worse bad phases. As you can probably make out from my comments on life, I am a Murphy Lobbyist, if there is any such thing. I believe the Murphy's Law. One form of which I would like to reproduce here : Nobody dies a virgin : Life screws everyone.

I am not going through a bad phase myself. Atleast not right now. I am talking about the neighbouring country. Unfortunately, they have been hit by an earthquake. And all my sympathies are directed towards the poor souls affected by the tragedy. I am talking about the people of the neighbouring country who survived! What could be worse than living in such a country? I mean, living in a place that smells of rot and crap 28 hours a day? I have heard that the colleges there have declared an indefinite holiday for the students. No, I'm just kidding. There are NO colleges there to speak of. The educational courses available there are as follows :

IIT : Islamic Institute of Terrorism
JEE : Jehadic Entrance Exam
GATE : General Aptitude in Terrorism and Extremism
M. Tech. : Masters in Terror Technology
IIM : Institute of Infiltration Management
CAT : Career in Al-queda and Taliban
IAS : Iraq After Saddam

Personally, I wouldn't want to even step in that country, forget attending any of these courses. Also, as a disclaimer, I would like to state that publishing the list of these courses on my blog does not mean that I approve of their existence. Nor will I recommend them to anyone. I don't want lawyers at my door-step.

So, I will pray for the poor people of my neighbouring country. I will ask the Good Lord to provide them with a permanent shelter soon. I will ask for HIS DIVINE INTERVENTION to end the misery of these people once and for all. That will be accomplished as soon as I can find the patience to pray without laughing or having sadistic thoughts in my mind...

26 posts and still going strong

Okay. I know I was bad in the last post. And I don't want a repeat of the hate mail I have received. The only reason I put up this title for this post is that I couldn't think of anything else.

Today I am going to talk about an issue that is very close to my heart. This is the matter of utter national concern. Solving the problem which I am now going to describe may well result in world peace in our lifetime and change the world to a better place. The thing I am talking about is DOGS. Yes, dogs have the potential to change the human race for better. And we can help our cause by GETTING RID OF THEM ONCE AND FOR ALL!

Before you animal lovers out there jump out of your safari suits with your anti- anti - environmentalist pamphlets and start canvassing the utility of dogs and other miscellaneous miscreants created by nature, let me tell you this : I am an environmental engineer and according to esteemed scientific research (conducted by a certain Mr. G. S. Umarji) it has been conclusively and beyond doubt that the lack of dogs on this planet isn't going to hurt the eco-system much. On the contrary, it may help improve the overall scenario, because all the problems in the world can be attributed to one single thing. Yes, all sorts of problems, like making misteks in speling and Engisj and typos, and poor mathematics can be described in four simple words : Lack of sleep! And where do dogs come in? They come in by the gate, dammit. And they spend the better part of the night in the open ground that lies just outside my home, barking away to glory; giving vent to their age old frustration of being seen by everyone when they have to do private things, such as smelling their own poo!

Dogs are a nuisance. And it's not only because they keep barking all night long. They have the uncanny habit of turning up in all sorts of places. I pop my head out of my window and the chances that there is a dog in sight is minimal. But that is because I live in a Correctional Facility for the Mentally Challenged and my room doesn't have a window. But that doesn't discount the fact that the dog population is getting out of hand. I think the dogs are secretly planning to take over the world. All this loyalty stuff is just to keep us off our guard when they do finally make the assault.

Dog 1 (with vaguely cheerful expression that is a characteristic of all dogs) : Damn that Zanjeer. The traitor found the bomb we had planted in the Petrol pump.
Dog 2 : He will be taken care of boss!
Dog 3 : See to it that he is taken care of. Keep reporting to me.
Then they all sniff each other butts in appreciation and head off in the general direction of : nowhere. Because their brain to body mass ratio is very small. They can't tell what they will be doing the next moment. This is why, for the moment, that we are safe from their attack. Every time they try to escalate an assault, they change their minds because a cat crosses their path or one of them suddenly has an insatiable scratching urge. Scratching is to dogs what yawning is to humans; it is contagious! Thank heavens for the fleas. We wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for those small creatures that don't let a dog live in peace.

Which reminds me, the smallest things in this world are the ones that are the most useful to man. In case you are wondering why I am deviating from the topic at hand, it is because my dog is watching over my shoulder to see if I have dropped any eatable on my laptop's keyboard. If there is indeed something on the keyboard, he will lick it up and in the process, clear up all that I have typed. And by the way, you will have to excuse me now. I have a sudden scratching urge.

(Secret conversation : recorded earlier)
Flea : Sir! The Bhandup Regiment of canine miscreants has been neutralised!
Me : Excellent. And tell the guys to work extra hard tonight. I have a big exam tomorrow. I need to get my beauty sleep today!

25 posts and going strong

Well, well, well! 25 posts old and still young at heart.

In case you are wondering what I am talking about, here's the lowdown. This is my 26th post! That means, before this post, I have typed 25 posts. Can you imagine that? 25 posts! I could go on the whole day about this, you know... 25 posts is no mean achievement. I mean, its not everyday that your blog informs you that you have now 25 posts. Man! Twenty Five is indeed a HUGE NUMBER, isn't it?

Anyway, enough of the number 25. I know you will have grown tired of it by now. But still, if you get the time, just sit and ruminate on this fact that my blog has completed 25 posts while you guys are still stuck at the blog of a self-obsessed person who can do nothing else but gloat on his minimal achievements! I wonder if the cow does ruminate 25 times...

So, back to today's post : Enough wallowing in my own glory for now. I know some of you guys will say that no gloating is good enough when your blog has twenty freaking five posts. But then, this is the kind of person I am. I hate to delve repeatedly into self-glorification. I mean, I could have turned this entire post into one huge self-praising post. But I haven't, have I?

I am so busy these days that I wonder how I ever managed to get those earlier 25 posts online! These days, typing 2.5 lines has become a leisure for me. Actually, I do type a lot these days, but that is for my Seminar work over here at IIT Bombay. I hardly get any time to type for my own pleasure. Its really a miracle that I am being able to put up this post. I had to put up this post however, or the fact that I have already put up 25 posts previous to this would have been lost on my reader-folk! Anyway, I will stop saying this now. If I say this again, please remind me to refrain from doing so.

My guide for my seminar says that I should be working harder. And that I keep committing the same mistakes again and again. She thinks I should get a mental check up done because she thinks I have a poor short term memory! What a load of hog-wash! Me, Govindraj and having poor memory! Ha! That's a laugh! Which reminds me, did I tell you that I have posted twenty five posts till date? No? I'm sure I must have mentioned it somewhere. I think I have. If you don't recall me having said it, well, there you have it! And in case you really don't recall me having said it, go get that MENTAL CHECK-UP DONE! :-)

Exams and other hazards of Education

This title is inspired from Dave Barry's Book : "Babies and Other Hazards of Sex"

I am not against examinations, actually. It's just that I think we would be better off with a system that doesn't give mother's a chance to compare their respective wards! Wards! What a funny word! I remember they used this word in our school to ensure that the children don't understand that they are the ones who are being talked about! This could cause real trouble to the Municipal Corporator of a certain ward of Mumbai.

Class Teacher : "Sir, your ward has been in a lot of trouble these days!"
Municipal Corporator of Ward S (Father of Ward XYZ (I was thinking of MD, but his dad is not a Municipal Corporator!)) : "Yes, I know. We have had a lot of trouble with the roads this year."
CT : (to himself) 'Roads? Oh, ah yes. Code language! I understand!' (To the MC) "Also, there has been news that your ward has been flooding a lot lately!"
MC : "Tell me about it! The amount of trouble I have had to go through to get the water out of my house after the 26th of July!"
CT : "26th of July? No, no. Your ward was caught flooding in the bathroom on the 29th of July. And it was on the school premises, not at your house"
MC : "Oh, so it was flooding here too, eh? Get in touch with my junior, we will do something about it in say about a hundred and twenty nine years of time!"
And so it goes. The reason that I have not tried to make this part funny is that I don't want to infuriate the Municipal Corporator of my ward! Who knows when he'll cut off the water supply? Fine mess that would create.

But this isn't about the 26th of July and allied problems, this is about exams and the worst thing associated with the exams : The Results! Yes, undoubtedly the thing that scares children the most is the exam results. More than being caught studying by a close friend. They are not scared of the doctor's needle as much as they are scared of the results these days, the kids.

Doctor : (to apprehensive looking kid) "Now, now. The Tetanus is a must, you know that. Don't be afraid!"
Kid : "Is there any vaccination for adults?"
D : "Yeah. There are many!"
K : "Can you make me a vaccination to make a person disappear?"
D : "Why do you want that for?"
K : "I want Mr. Murthy, my class teacher, to disappear before he declares our exam results!"

And, unfortunately for the kid, there is no such vaccination and he has to hear his result from this Murthy fellow. And then there is the rigmarole of showing the report card to his parents, getting it signed from them. (This is an unusual and unnecessary step. It has been designed by sadistic people at the Board of Schools. They derive pleasure from seeing kids being berated by their parents! They were probably abused in their childhood! :-))

In conclusion, I would like to say this : Exams are fine. Get rid of the results!

The Plight of the American (Part II)

The American who has been deputed to India for the prestigious project of the UN, or IMF is currently at the office of the Anti Corruption Bureau. Outside the office building, he is amazed to see a couple of Maruti 800s parked outside the building. The reason he is amazed is that the other cars are Skoda Octavias and Mitsubishi Lancers and Honda City’s. This gets him wondering about the salary of the babus working there. The moment I type babus, Word suggests that I should type babes! Yeah, right! These Americans are funny people, aren’t they?

He enters the building, wondering what sort of an experience he should expect. Nothing will prepare him for the shock he is about to receive. There is no one; absolutely no one in the office. Only a single peon, looking bored, trying to sleep while simultaneously swatting away flies from the front of his face. He seems very skilled at this, the American observes. He goes to the peon.

American : “Where is everybody?”
Peon : (Swatting yet another fly) “They have gone for a raid.”
A : “The whole staff! Man, they are dedicated people.”
P : “They sure are. Besides, it’s not everyday that Americans come to India”
A : “Americans? What do you mean by that?”
P : “They have gone to lay their hands on all the American stuff they can find in the room of that American who has recently arrived for some project. In case you are looking for them, you will find them in The Taj”
A : (Alarmed) “But that’s where I am living!”
P : “Room No. 208, right?”
A : “How do you know?”

But by this time, the peon has fallen off his chair. He can’t control his laughter. Obviously, he finds the situation of the American a very funny one. Being robbed by the people you have come to meet and in general to develop their country is really hilarious to him as compared to seeing the blood of the dead flies on his hands. Because, he sees a lot of it everyday. Because that is what he does most of the time.

The American is really angered now. He is desperately trying not to lose his temper and fly at someone in a fit of rage. But he isn’t being helped by the laughing peon. Neither is he being helped by the fact that it is the middle of the great Indian summer and he is streaming perspiration at 200 gallons (gallons, not litres) per second. He needs to do something about this. This is not what he had come here for. He had come here to develop the country of these poor buggers and give them a chance to lead a better life, one involving lesser hassles while travelling, greater safety for the females in the society and a lot many more things. He is not going to keep quiet about this. He will definitely do something about this. He applies for a transfer to Europe.

And so, time passes and yet another American or another European Engineer makes his way to our “deprived, poor and starving and developing country”.

Duke Nukem and Red Alert

When I had started writing this blog, I had thought that I would write it daily. But as time has passed, I have realised that too much of a good thing isn't good. So, I thought that I'd make my readers sweat it out for a few days, while I myself am sweating out for my Mid-Term examinations! That is the principal reason why my posts these days have been sporadic. I plan to return to my normal frequency of a post each alternate day very soon.

You might be wondering, after reading the title, what the post is going to be about. Well, it’s going to be about sex, and the ways you can enjoy it better! Its going to be about Duke Nukem and Red Alert, you dummy! These two, as you will probably know, unless you were asleep the whole period of your teen age, were the most popular games when we were teenagers. Especially, Duke Nukem. I still vividly recall the first time I played the game, using a shotgun to blow alien ass all over the walls. And the thrill and the joy and the excitement of realizing that due to my excellent skills at using a key-board, the world was going to be freed of Aliens! Man, those were the days, back when the computer cost a cool 70 grand. Nowadays, for 70 grand, you can pick up a system that will refuse to run Duke Nukem. See what they mean when they say that the rupee is devaluating?

So, anyway, as I was saying, Duke Nukem took up a lot of my teenage time. Which probably explains my lack of maturity and etiquette. Seriously, I am more of a dunk-head than Duke could ever hope to be. And that is putting it mildly. Don’t get me started about table manners. I was so involved in playing Duke through my teenage and formative years, that I forgot to indulge in such character building activities such as learning physics, getting ditched by girl-friends, never getting laid, yet boasting about how you lost your virginity at an early age. I missed all of that. But I won’t blame Duke for that. He was and still is my Hero. He hey. What a mess!

You are probably wondering how a person who spent his formative years in Gaming can write such wonderful stuff. The answer to that is simple. You see, my school was an English Medium school. And that is not the reason why I write well. The reason I write well is that I had to take tuitions to ensure that I could make a pass grade in English. And since the dude who took my tuitions charged heavily, my parents made damn sure that I studied my English properly. Occasionally though, such words as damn and sex do escape me. But that can be attributed to four years of abused teen age. Who knows if I had lied about my state of virginity like the other guys did, I might have turned out a different person than what I am today. Maybe my English wouldn’t have been as good. But then, I would have the satisfaction of knowing what they mean when they say “E = Mc2”. Or maybe, I could have used my typing skills to reduce or even reverse the trend of rupee devaluation. If only the makers of Duke Nukem could come up with games titled “Bill Gatesem”. I would save the world from Financial disaster.

The Fact of Life

This is a sincere effort to understand the simple yet unidentifiable fact of life that has mystified generations of humans. It is also a genuine attempt at garnering undue publicity by writing obscene stuff about all sorts of people and criticising them left, right and centre. That's centre, not center as the Americans spell it. I wonder who teaches them in Kindergarten...

You will recall that in my first post, I had written about Greed being the destroyer of all things. Well, this post is going to be on the same lines.

I am studying to be an Environmental Engineer and when I had thought of taking up this course, I had visions of being an agent of change, a person who will change the world forever with his mind-blowing but simple strategies to convert the earth as we know it today into an Utopia. Actually, I had thought of taking up this course because no other course was available to me at that time! But anyway, the first few days, I had these thoughts. After which my mindset changed.

I am going to be philosophical for some time now. So all those in the audience who are allergic to Philosophy should leave now. This is especially true if you have just been discharged from a mental hospital or correctional facility for the serial murderer.

Why do Environmental Engineers work? I mean, what is their ulterior motive, if they have one, in conserving the Planet? I thought along these lines and came up with some answers that satiated my curiosity. I don't know if you people will agree. But since you have no other option, you are going to have to listen to my theory!

The Fact is that Environmental Engineers couldn't care less about the Environment. Its not that we are not aware of the damage that is being caused by the human population. We are aware of the fact. But the remedies we generate at times are flawed : in the sense that the motive behind them is not benevolent. Environmentalists and other miscellaneous evangelists will tell you that there is a need to conserve all sorts of life forms, to maintain Bio-diversity. Yes, that is true for the !#$^&%^& mosquito too! What they don't tell you is that if you don't respect their opinion, they are probably going to get some foolish politician to agree to their views and get some law passed which will bugger up the whole ecosystem. This is not necessarily true of all the environmentalists, but a majority of the supposed "do-gooders" end up harming the earth. I could go on about this, but I suggest you read the book "State of fear" by Michael Crichton.

Anyway, the reason I bought up this topic (Now, back to the booger Govindraj) is that recently, I was privy to a conversation between two top environmentalists at a convention for the Earth, called Sustainable Development of the Earth's Natural Resources (for the Consumption by Men.) The bit in the brackets is my understanding of the whole thing!

Environmentalist 1 : "I wonder what we are having for lunch today"

Environmentalist 2 : "Yeah. The food was horrible yesterday"

Journalist : "Sir, do you think that the removal of the species blah blah has an effect on the rains in Mumbai?

E1 : "Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Definitely. The reason that we had the deluge in Mumbai on the 26th of July was due to the mismanagement of the species conservation!"

J : "But sir, isn't BMC's lackadaisical approach to the whole incident also to be blamed?"

E1 : "You can blame anyone you want. But the fact remains that it was due to that particular missing species. Now, for example, I can blame the caterer for the poor food he's preparing, but the root cause of the trouble is the bloody organiser. If I find him, I'm.."

J : "Er.. Sir, about that species.."

E1 : "Oh yes. As I was saying, the species has been preyed upon so intensively that hardly a few of them exist nowadays. That is the root cause of trouble. There isn't enough for that species to eat, and for the species which preyed upon the species which is now nearly extinct, there is hardly anything left. And that is not speaking about the other species which feed on the species that feed upon the species that have been fed upon by the speices called the human species. So, as I was saying, humans are the root cause of all trouble. Now, where is the damn organiser?"

And so it went. The E1 was more interested in the food organisation rather than the organisation of the earth's ecosystem. But he made a valid point. Which is the FACT OF LIFE that I started writing this article for

"HUMANS ARE THE ROOT CAUSE OF ALL TROUBLE!"

Shock of the Day

I entered the URL of my blog and I got a page saying : "Mega Site of Bible Studies".

Really! Now this scared me a bit, because I have heard of hackers and I know that they can break your password and take over your account. But my password is so secure. Nobody except me knows that my password is govindraj. I don't know how the hackers could have cracked my password. But then, as it turned out, I had typed the URL wrong and that was the reason why I was shown the wrong page. So, no one has any idea about my password and of that I can be pretty sure.

And by the way, I would like to take some time out here to introduce my friend and co-author and alter-ego. You have heard from this person before, he is the one who writes the comments in the brackets. (Govindraj can't make up funny things by himself. I do that for him! He couldn't crack a joke if his life depended on it!) Okay, fine you don't have to rub it in, you know. So, this person that I'm going to introduce to you today is the one who makes all my blogs funny. If it weren't for him, my blog would have essentially consisted of long and meaningless and un-funny sentences like the one you are reading and you probably would have clicked the link for the next blog shown in the top right corner of this page! (Govindraj, your attempts at being funny are really pathetic and despicable!) Stop that! Or I am not going to introduce you. (Yeah right. Do you want to reduce whatever traffic your blog is getting? :-) Evil Grin)

He knows he's got me cornered. Maybe I will let him write for sometime. For the next paragraph, the comments inside the brackets are going to be mine. My alter-ego will write now :

You bunch of losers : Less Occuppied Self Elevating Readers Suck! Under normal circumstances, this would have appeared in brackets and for someone else. And you would have laughed like crazy. Don't you have anything better to do all day? I know some of you are doctors, and there's that Engineer, who sits around on his butt all day, surfing the net. I think all of you are members of some weird society, who believe in praising each other's blogs and feeling damn good about it! I think I could make up a name for such a society. But they already have one in Sanskrut : "Aho rupam aho dhvani!" (Guys. Please don't take all this to heart!)
This apologetic sod is one big pain. Maybe one day, when I can amass enough insults to start a blog of my own, I will do so. You will probably hear about this soon from the loser who owns this particular blog. In parting, I would like to say this : Thanks for laughing at my jokes. You have made this blog popular and are a great crowd : "FOR ME TO POOP ON!" (I realise that I could come in for some serious copyright violation if I let him write any further! So, back to my original self)

Whew! What a relief! I sincerely apologise for the comments of my alter-ego. You see, I suffer from an odd type of Schizophrenia. It takes me up whenever I am typing. And that is the reason why you people find my blog funny. You do, don't you? (Say yes, you bunch of losers! :-))

Convocation Day

Convocation Day
Hey, BIG DAY today at Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay. It is Convocation Day, meaning, the day when every soul who was ever tortured (This is the Internal Firewall at IIT B. Your typing is being scrutinised, Mr. Umarji) for four years, or two years as the case may be, will be set free by the awarding of the degree. This is what the person strived for in the first place, isn't it?

No! The only thing the people here strived for was maybe the unlimited photo copies the Professors dole out for the students to read. Or the completing of assignments and lab reports on the day before the submission or viva voce. (Mr. Umarji, this is your second warning. Sensitive and True information about IIT Bombay cannot be divulged outside IIT B campus.)

So, as I was saying the student life over here at IIT is really hectic, if so small a word as hectic can be used to represent the state of the poor IITians. Man, they really personify the word slogging! You should see me and my friends when we are completing our assignments or studying for an upcoming quiz. We are a bunch of nervous wrecks. You probably know about this. Why else do you think all the IITians head for America after Graduation? America is the only place left in this world for morons! And besides, they have the world's best psychiatrists.

Which reminds me, I have yet to complete the earlier post on The Plight of The American. Hey wait, there's some body at my door.

Me : Who is it?
Burly man : This is the Network Officer for Secrets EXchange (NO SEX)
Me : What do you want to see me for?
B M : You are in violation of Protocol 23334573, Section H, regarding the divulging of Internal Secrets of the Indian Institute of Technology.
Me : Uh oh!

Ha ha ha. I was just kidding about all that stuff I wrote about IIT B, you know. Its really a swell place to be in. In fact, the people here are so nice, they let you access the Internet for free! I mean, if this is not bliss, what is? I think that you guys can read between the lines. I'm going to use a sort of code now.

IIT B is the best Institution in the whole country (Read between the next two lines)

Line 1
The SEX NO is standing behind me!
Line 2

Ha, so as I was saying, its the best place there could ever be. And no, it doesn't have any secrets to speak of. So, do give me a visit here, and if you can, please ask my Lawyer to get in touch with me as soon as he can!

The Pleasures of Cycling

I have always owned a cycle. I can't recall a single time period in my life when I was without one. So, if there is anyone entitled to comment on the pleasures of cycling, it is Lance Armstrong. But I'm going to give it a shot anyway!

Most of the people in India own a cycle. They tend to forget the fact most of the times. This is because the cycle is probably languishing in some corner of their attic, or in the garage. People are reminded of their cycle when they read in Reader's Digest that cycling is good for health. Or they read the newspaper, where it says that Petrol is now Rs. 700 a litre.

Cycling, as an activity, is comprised of the following :

1. Wondering where the hell you have kept the cycle (10 minutes)
2. Getting the cycle out of the neighbour's garage (25 minutes. How the hell did it get there?)
3. Thinking about giving the cycle a clean-up and oiling (15 minutes)
4. Actually doing the cleaning (5 minutes. Give up!)
5. Riding the cycle (20 minutes. Holy cow! This thing is slow. I wonder what happened to my smooth riding cycle?)
6. Finding a place to keep cycle.
7. Sleeping like a log for 10 hours due to fatigue caused by the activity of cycling.

Yes, sir. Cycling is indeed a time consuming affair. And the fun doesn't stop here. There are allied hassles, about which I could write pages about. For starters, you have to get the grease off the chain, which you have obviously forgotten to do, the effect of that being that your loveliest pair of pants now look like they have been run over by an army of ants, who had black paint on their feet. I could write a manual about this.

Step 1. Get the cycle out of the garage.
Step 2. Find a family member to tell you where the garage is and ask them how to open the door (Its probably going to be rusted)
Step 3. Find a dirty cloth to clean an even dirtier cycle.
Step 4. Oil the whole damn thing!
Step 5. Wipe the oil off.
Step 6. Give the cycle to the local cycle repairing shop for complete overhauling.
Step 7. Wait a week for the cycle.
Step 8. Forget the cycle; walking's the way to go.

And for those who are still enthusiastic enough, I suggest they ride the cycle to let go of the fad. Because once you start pedalling, you will realise that this is not the cycle you had purchased. The one you had purchased was red in colour and rode like a dream. The one you have now may still be red in colour. Just get rid of the 5 cm thick layer of dust. As regards the smoothness, it can be explained. Cycle manufacturers have added that functionality in an attempt to boost sales. The cycle will exponentially get tougher to ride with respect to the amount of neglect it gets. This works for the benefit of the nation, because it makes the cycle manufacturers rich and you thinner. And if you end up using the car, its going to make the oil companies happy.

New Laptop, new hassles!

When I set out to purchase the laptop, I didn't realise I was creating hassles for myself.

The salesman kept on harping about how it would improve my mobility. I find that the laptop has in fact reduced my mobility. Earlier, I used to roam around the hostel, keeping the door of my room ajar. Now, I bolt it securely, and ensure at least twice that the bolt is secure. And then I go and have my lunch or dinner, depending on what time of the day it is. All the time, during my eating and sleeping hours, I'm worried about my new laptop. All these hassles I did not have before. That is why new laptop, new hassles.

P.S Typing on the laptop is a pleasure!

Memories Spring back to life

A few days ago I had told you people about how I had enjoyed life in my school around a zillion years ago. This is another story of how I and my friends used to be the centre of attraction in my school.

You might recall MD, the friend I have mentioned in one of my earlier posts. You see, this friend of mine is very brilliant. Why, he managed to get a score of almost 59.7% in his class X exams. He was a God amongst us mere mortals. We used to worship him. Another interesting fact about this dude is that he was always susceptible to wacky ideas.

We had a science fair in our school once, and on display along with other paraphernalia were : sex toys! Really! I didn't realise it then, but I distinctly recall the Professors being queasy around those displays. I thought it was because they were hideous looking. But I know better now! Along with the sex toys, there was a display of a car that runs on chemicals. This fascinated us kids a lot. We decided to find out what exactly made it go zoom, the way it did.

So, we went to the inventors of the car. You know the child geniuses that are the pride of every school? Well, one such fellow was the master mind behind the car. They are not actual children. They are nuclear scientists masquerading as school children in an effort to find out when school gets over. (If this doesn't make sense, read an earlier post titled : "My School Days") These people caused all sorts of trouble for duds like me, because my parents always were comparing me with them, in an effort to try and make me as brilliant and hard working as them. What my parents didn't realise that unless I was subjected to nuclear radiation of the kind that affects the brain cells of a dinosaur, there was no way I was going to improve. But they tried anyway.

Anyway, back to the nuclear scientist, I mean the "child genius". This dude told us that by combining Hydrochloric acid and Baking soda, we could produce Carbon dioxide, a gas, which when let out through a nozzle, makes the car go forward. Simple, yet effective. Actually, this is what I learnt from a web-site I was surfing. What I had heard originally, was unintelligible blabbering by a nerd. But I had got the gist of the matter, even back then.

After listening to the geek, my friend MD realised three things :
1. Hydrochloric acid is used to clean toilets.
2. Baking soda is available cheap.
3. His parents were going to be out this weekend.

Our plan was hatched. We decided to make a car that would go faster than the geek's and then we would display it in the next science fair, maybe arrange a drag race or something inorder to show off the greater speed of our "MDmobile".

So, the saturday morning was spent in acquiring all the necessary stuff for the car. Finally, in the afternoon, we had finished assembling the car, which looked like a trojan horse. We were really proud of this. It was the first constructive work we had done in all our life, if you discount for the fact the cleaning up of dirt from our class. I mean, the beating up of the nerds and the geeks, who are there in school to create misery for the average student.

The reactants, or whatever they are called, we added to the car (if you could call it that). But the car wouldn't move forward. This time, I had a brilliant idea. I realised that more reactants would propel the car further! So, we added more Hypochlorous Diacid and whatever Soda the dude had told us about.

The car was all over the house. There was so much smoke, that I couldn't even begin to describe what the house looked like. It looked like we were going to have to change our objective from : "Making a car that runs on chemicals" to "Run like hell before MD's mom arrives"
The reason I recalled this piece of information from my old beat up memories is because I saw something similar in a science fair I had recently visited. This time I had participated in the fair, and I and another friend of mine had made a car. But this one was more sophisticated than the previous one. It didn't smoke around like the previous one. It did what it was supposed to do : namely, move at high speeds and explode.

Yes, the car did actually explode. We were aware of this possibility and we blamed it on sabotage by our competitors. We got the second prize for initiating interest in what was otherwise a boring science fair!

The Plight of the American

Imagine the plight of an American Engineer who has been "deported" to India for some work. (Is deported the correct word? Or should I say deputed?)

At the airport, he will probably have an encounter with the famous Indian corruption. But he has probably been fore warned about this. And as they say, fore warned is fore armed. However, he isn't aware of the indigenous nature of the Customs Officials. (Indigenous : Origin probably from the word India! It means home-grown)

Customs Official : Arre Passport dikhao bhai!
American Engineer : What are you saying maan?
C : Show your Passport.
A : What do you mean by pass fart?
C : Arre iske palle kuchh baat padhti hi nahi. (enunciating each alphabet) Show me your Passport.
A : Oh. Here it is my maan.
C : Fine. You can proceed.
A : (Confused) Don't you want something to let me go?
C : You bloody Americans! You think you are the only sophisticated people with all the high technology? We have our own automation. Your baggage was scanned for and relieved of its useful contents automatically.
A : Useful? I don't understand my friend.
C : Useful for us, useless for you. What use is a digital camera to you? There's nothing worth seeing here. All you can see on the roads are poor, naked children. And you don't look like a paedophile to me... Now get out of here, before I change my mind and ask you to empty your wallet.

The Engineer has obviously been sent to India for a prestigious project of the UN or some world wide agency. Which means that (threatening drum rolls in the background) he has to work with a Government Organisation, something like Maharashtra Urban Transport Project. Your natural instinct would be to advise the dude to forget the project and head for the hills. Better not to work in India than to work for the Govt. But as citizens of India, we feel that all the people from the west, who create trouble for us anyway, should get their just deserts. That is why we choose to maintain a subtle silence.

So, the Engineer heads out to the site, where he is greeted by a lone foreman or contractor, who is contentedly sipping on his tea, making an irritating, slurping noise. Now the dude finds this highly irritating, but he is wont to start an argument with the foreman on the very first day. He needs to use some tact.
AE : "Where are the workers?"
FM : "What do you mean where are the Shirkers? You can't talk about the labourers like that. If they get a slight hint that you have been criticising them, they will go on strike."
AE : "Okay. Where are the labourers?"
FM : "They are on strike."
AE : "What for?"
FM : "Because the Indian Government chose to give a million dollars for Hurricane Katrina relief rather than spending the money on Mumbai relief."
AE : "Really? I didn't realise the Indian people are that sensitive and well read!"
FM : "They aren't. They are on strike because they haven't been paid for three months!"
AE : "But I checked the accounts. The salaries of the people have been released around two months ago!"
FM : "Welcome to India!"

Now, the American is really pissed. He needs to send a report back to the IMF or whatever international body it is that is funding the project. And there has been no progress. What he probably doesn't realise is that the International body is probably rooting for the project to get delayed even further. That will imply higher costs, which will mean, higher interests. And since India has never defaulted on her payments, unlike the First World Countries, it probably means that the babus of the Government of India are going to have to take a pay cut to repay the debt. No! That was a joke! The debt is going to be passed on to you, you stupid tax payer! And the American is with you! He wants to prevent the delay. So? What do you do? Nothing, you sit around in your hall, watching all this on television, criticising the Government for the corruption and the delays and other stuff.

But this post isn't about that. Its about the American. Who is probably facing the bureaucrats Anti Corruption Bureau.
More about this later...

I'm Straight

I have received a lot of hate mail from females. And a lot of mail (male) from males asking me if I'm gay.

The fact is that I'm quite a straight gay, I mean guy. Which is an euphemistic way of saying "I'm not gay GODDAMMIT!" Just because I criticize females, doesn't mean I fancy guys! The reason I criticize females is because it gives me loads of free publicity and also a lot many responses from females, which a dud like me couldn't normally expect to get from females otherwise!

Besides, what people call my FLOCCI­NAUCINI­HILIPIL­IFICATION of the female species, is nothing more than the truth. So, I couldn't care less if people call me gay even after reading this article. My being called gay may help my case with some females I'm having trouble with!

Speaking of straight, let me get to the point straight. I think I'm going to stop commenting about females. I think I have had enough of the publicity. I think I will stick to booger type journalism.

That, I hope, will silence my critics and the gay males who have been writing to me all these days. Seriously! I have unlimited amount of males oops I mean mails from expectant guys, one of which I will reproduce (as if that is possible with males). These people are very subtle in their approach, as you will realise from the following mail.

Dear Govindraj,

I totally agree with you. The female species is grossly over-rated. Blah blah What are you doing this Friday evening? The females should be taken off this planet. They don't deserve to share equal footing with us males. Nobody's going to be at my place this Friday, so maybe you could drop by. Females, blah blah.

Yours truly,

Richard "Gay" Sims.

Now, a dunk head like me could never realise that this was a bring on. Or whatever it is they call foreplay in gay speak. Now don't get me wrong here. I'm not against gays or anything and I don't wish to hurt their sentiments. I realise that some people are different, but I don't want any part of that. I wish to be straight. As I was saying, I was told that this male (mail) was probably sent by a mail (male), by one of my friends, who we shall call MD for protecting his identity. MD, if you are reading this, I mean no offence!

So, anyway, that is all I wanted to say. And all you females out there, there is going to be no one at my place this Sunday evening! :-) (That is, nobody, except me!)