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”.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
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!"
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!"
Saturday, September 17, 2005
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! :-))
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! :-))
Friday, September 16, 2005
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!
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!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
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!
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!
Monday, September 12, 2005
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!
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!
Saturday, September 10, 2005
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...
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!)
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!)
Friday, September 09, 2005
Zodiac signs
I was going through the news paper today, and like a fool, I read the predictions section.
I don't usually do this and after I read today's prediction, I realised why I had been avoiding the same. My today's prediction said this :
Extreme danger from the opposite sex. Stay away from the members of the opposite sex at work today. You are liable to be sued for some comment you make. By the way, you are a Virgo, and you are not a born leader and you have a very poor memory and you are apologetic. You are a loser and don't deserve the good things in life. And although you will never accept the fact that you are not a leader, you will get angry about it. Also, if asked you will say that you are not angry about it. Blah blah blah.
Now this is absolute nonsense, if there was ever such a thing. I mean, the world knows that all the greatest leaders ever were Virgos or missed being Virgoans by a little. Queen Elisabeth I was a Virgoan, so was the other fellow, what's his name. I mean there have been zillions of Virgo leaders. Its just that I don't recall their names. But this is not because I have a bad memory. Its just that the internet is against us Virgoans. I just can't find a single famous Virgo leader.
And I'm not at all angry about not being a leader. (Damn! What was the name of the Astrologer? I forgot it again. If I ever find out where he lives, I'm going to thump his head with an electric guitar!) I mean, what is there to be angry about it? Big deal. If you ask me, I'm going to say the same thing no matter how many times you ask me. I'm not at all angry.
I forget what I had started writing this blog for. Oh. Now I remember! I think I was telling you guys about how great the newspaper people are, right? No? Oh maybe then I was talking about something else. I have a good memory you know. Its only because that I have been incensed by something that I'm not remembering what I'm talking about. I hope you forgive me.
I don't usually do this and after I read today's prediction, I realised why I had been avoiding the same. My today's prediction said this :
Extreme danger from the opposite sex. Stay away from the members of the opposite sex at work today. You are liable to be sued for some comment you make. By the way, you are a Virgo, and you are not a born leader and you have a very poor memory and you are apologetic. You are a loser and don't deserve the good things in life. And although you will never accept the fact that you are not a leader, you will get angry about it. Also, if asked you will say that you are not angry about it. Blah blah blah.
Now this is absolute nonsense, if there was ever such a thing. I mean, the world knows that all the greatest leaders ever were Virgos or missed being Virgoans by a little. Queen Elisabeth I was a Virgoan, so was the other fellow, what's his name. I mean there have been zillions of Virgo leaders. Its just that I don't recall their names. But this is not because I have a bad memory. Its just that the internet is against us Virgoans. I just can't find a single famous Virgo leader.
And I'm not at all angry about not being a leader. (Damn! What was the name of the Astrologer? I forgot it again. If I ever find out where he lives, I'm going to thump his head with an electric guitar!) I mean, what is there to be angry about it? Big deal. If you ask me, I'm going to say the same thing no matter how many times you ask me. I'm not at all angry.
I forget what I had started writing this blog for. Oh. Now I remember! I think I was telling you guys about how great the newspaper people are, right? No? Oh maybe then I was talking about something else. I have a good memory you know. Its only because that I have been incensed by something that I'm not remembering what I'm talking about. I hope you forgive me.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
The Powai Lake and National Interests
Today, I took a walk along the periphery of Powai Lake.
Now, this was indeed a serene and quiet walk, except for the occasional chirping of birds, the murmur of the "waves" breaking on the banks and the more frequent shout, "Hey <>&^#$@#! Can't you see where you are going?" : This from the male fractions of the numerous couples that frequent the lake front to spend some quality time together, watching the sunset, wondering about the future, and their life together and what in the world they are doing on the shores of a lake that is so polluted and infested with mosquitoes. Really! The damn place is constantly swamped by mosquitoes and other queer insect life; some of which you will be seeing for the first time in your life! You can imagine the conversation two insects must be having.
Male mosquito : "What do you want to do today?"
Female mosquito : "Well the kids have gone to the school to learn about the humans and the animals (translation for humans : Birds and the bees). I was thinking that we'll have dinner outside today.
M m : "I know just the spot. Let's go out to Powai lake!"
F m : "Nah! Not that place again!"
M m : "Wait till you see the fat guy who comes for a walk these days. From what I've heard, he writes some humour columns. It’s been years since I've tasted funny blood!"
F m : "Oh! Really? I can't wait! Let's leave!"
So, along with the couples, I also had the constant company of mosquitoes, fruit flies, the occasional snake and a few alligators. Actually, there were lizards the size of alligators. This can be attributed to the nuclear radiation emanating from the Powai lake. The amount of Nuclear Pollution in the Powai lake is so enormous that the Government has had to depute special task forces of hybrid mosquitoes, imported from Somalia (they are REALLY hungry mosquitoes) to keep people away from the place.
But then, I'm veering away from the topic which I had initially begun my post for. I was walking along the internal IIT Road that is along the Powai lake. And I was looking at the pristine beauty of the nearby Hiranandani towers. Well, actually, there were many good looking females residing in those towers, and they had chosen that time to have a coffee in their respective galleries. And I had a thought. Now this thought is going to make you slap your foreheads and think ," Why didn’t I think of this?" But then, if you had thought of this, you probably wouldn't have been reading this article. You would have been sitting in your own yatch somewhere in the Mediterranean, sipping some red wine.
The thought I had was this : Why not take a Somalian breed of mosquito, dip them in Powai lake (to create highly hazardous blood sucking insects) and threaten our neighbouring countries into submission! I mean, the idea is infallible. Just imagine the opponent army swatting away insects the size of water melons to glory while our soldiers pick them up at leisure.
Soldier of Neighbouring country : Sir, the damned Indians have let loose the mosquitoes again!
Superior : Curse these Indians. I have lost almost twelve Kg weight during that last blood sucking spree. Get the Good Night! And tell the soldiers to get their Baygon sprays ready!
Now, you are probably saying, "Govindraj! That is a brilliant idea! In fact, you should receive the Arjuna Award for this!" And I will say this, "You moron! The Arjuna Award is for excellence in sports! What you mean is the Nobel Prize!" But you see, I won’t even ask for the Nobel Prize. I'm such a mother land loving person, that for getting rid the country of its problems, I will willingly give up my blood.
Actually, the reason I had this idea was that I did donate a lot of blood to the mosquitoes by the Powai lake. I seemed to be attracting unusually large numbers. I wonder why...
Now, this was indeed a serene and quiet walk, except for the occasional chirping of birds, the murmur of the "waves" breaking on the banks and the more frequent shout, "Hey <>&^#$@#! Can't you see where you are going?" : This from the male fractions of the numerous couples that frequent the lake front to spend some quality time together, watching the sunset, wondering about the future, and their life together and what in the world they are doing on the shores of a lake that is so polluted and infested with mosquitoes. Really! The damn place is constantly swamped by mosquitoes and other queer insect life; some of which you will be seeing for the first time in your life! You can imagine the conversation two insects must be having.
Male mosquito : "What do you want to do today?"
Female mosquito : "Well the kids have gone to the school to learn about the humans and the animals (translation for humans : Birds and the bees). I was thinking that we'll have dinner outside today.
M m : "I know just the spot. Let's go out to Powai lake!"
F m : "Nah! Not that place again!"
M m : "Wait till you see the fat guy who comes for a walk these days. From what I've heard, he writes some humour columns. It’s been years since I've tasted funny blood!"
F m : "Oh! Really? I can't wait! Let's leave!"
So, along with the couples, I also had the constant company of mosquitoes, fruit flies, the occasional snake and a few alligators. Actually, there were lizards the size of alligators. This can be attributed to the nuclear radiation emanating from the Powai lake. The amount of Nuclear Pollution in the Powai lake is so enormous that the Government has had to depute special task forces of hybrid mosquitoes, imported from Somalia (they are REALLY hungry mosquitoes) to keep people away from the place.
But then, I'm veering away from the topic which I had initially begun my post for. I was walking along the internal IIT Road that is along the Powai lake. And I was looking at the pristine beauty of the nearby Hiranandani towers. Well, actually, there were many good looking females residing in those towers, and they had chosen that time to have a coffee in their respective galleries. And I had a thought. Now this thought is going to make you slap your foreheads and think ," Why didn’t I think of this?" But then, if you had thought of this, you probably wouldn't have been reading this article. You would have been sitting in your own yatch somewhere in the Mediterranean, sipping some red wine.
The thought I had was this : Why not take a Somalian breed of mosquito, dip them in Powai lake (to create highly hazardous blood sucking insects) and threaten our neighbouring countries into submission! I mean, the idea is infallible. Just imagine the opponent army swatting away insects the size of water melons to glory while our soldiers pick them up at leisure.
Soldier of Neighbouring country : Sir, the damned Indians have let loose the mosquitoes again!
Superior : Curse these Indians. I have lost almost twelve Kg weight during that last blood sucking spree. Get the Good Night! And tell the soldiers to get their Baygon sprays ready!
Now, you are probably saying, "Govindraj! That is a brilliant idea! In fact, you should receive the Arjuna Award for this!" And I will say this, "You moron! The Arjuna Award is for excellence in sports! What you mean is the Nobel Prize!" But you see, I won’t even ask for the Nobel Prize. I'm such a mother land loving person, that for getting rid the country of its problems, I will willingly give up my blood.
Actually, the reason I had this idea was that I did donate a lot of blood to the mosquitoes by the Powai lake. I seemed to be attracting unusually large numbers. I wonder why...
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
I'm Back!
Hi everyone!
I know. I know. You guys are probably going to say : "What took you so long? Do you realise the gloom we were resigned to during your absence? You were gone for such a long time! A hiatus of two whole days!"
But guys (and gals, which I seriously doubt, considering all the things I've said about females!) who are reading my posts, I've got this to say for you : The good things in life don't come quick and easy. You've got to learn to wait. That is why, females don't condescend to spend time with us. (Those of you who are new to my blog and wondering why I am supporting women so much, read my earlier post titled, A Free Article)
So, as I mentioned earlier, I have shifted to the hostel. And I'd thought that my posts would be funnier. But here I am and I think I've been unable to make you laugh till this sentence. And I'm still unable to make up something funny, something that will make you laugh, roll on the floor laughing, which is why I'm writing such long sentences, in a hope to make you forget what I had started the sentence with! (Whew!)
So, here's a little something that ought to make you laugh. Unless you are member of PETA or WWF or SHSDTSJS. (Don't ask me what THAT means! Mew!)
I know. I know. You guys are probably going to say : "What took you so long? Do you realise the gloom we were resigned to during your absence? You were gone for such a long time! A hiatus of two whole days!"
But guys (and gals, which I seriously doubt, considering all the things I've said about females!) who are reading my posts, I've got this to say for you : The good things in life don't come quick and easy. You've got to learn to wait. That is why, females don't condescend to spend time with us. (Those of you who are new to my blog and wondering why I am supporting women so much, read my earlier post titled, A Free Article)
So, as I mentioned earlier, I have shifted to the hostel. And I'd thought that my posts would be funnier. But here I am and I think I've been unable to make you laugh till this sentence. And I'm still unable to make up something funny, something that will make you laugh, roll on the floor laughing, which is why I'm writing such long sentences, in a hope to make you forget what I had started the sentence with! (Whew!)
So, here's a little something that ought to make you laugh. Unless you are member of PETA or WWF or SHSDTSJS. (Don't ask me what THAT means! Mew!)
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Funny is Easy
Its very easy being funny. All you have to do is exaggerate something so much that people HAVE TO LAUGH. This is the reason my blog is so loved by all my readers! See what I mean?
So, anyway, over the period of one whole week, I have received no less than twelve comments for my blog. I mean, if that is not a record, what is? I think I should receive recognition from The Guinness Book of World Records just for this. Agreed, most of them were hate mail. At least as many as one email I received criticised me for my posts. But, I believe that any publicity is good publicity. So, females out there, send me as much hate mail as you can.
This week, I'm going to undergo a transitory phase in my life. I'm moving to Hostel 3 in IIT Bombay campus. And no, I don't need any advice about life in Hostels. I have experienced it first hand for four years during my undergraduate years. You can say that I'm going there for my second hand experience for my post graduate.
All this means that you will probably not hear from me for about a day or two, or maybe a week even! I will need some time to acclimatise myself to the IIT B Hostel system. And I will have to find out who to appease to get access to the computer room without having to wait in line. I know, you are probably thinking, "What am I going to do without Govindraj's posts for three days? Where will I get funny things to read? Woe is me!"
Relax. I'll be back! Besides, who knows, my posts may be funnier when I return to the source of all mirth, the hostel.
So, anyway, over the period of one whole week, I have received no less than twelve comments for my blog. I mean, if that is not a record, what is? I think I should receive recognition from The Guinness Book of World Records just for this. Agreed, most of them were hate mail. At least as many as one email I received criticised me for my posts. But, I believe that any publicity is good publicity. So, females out there, send me as much hate mail as you can.
This week, I'm going to undergo a transitory phase in my life. I'm moving to Hostel 3 in IIT Bombay campus. And no, I don't need any advice about life in Hostels. I have experienced it first hand for four years during my undergraduate years. You can say that I'm going there for my second hand experience for my post graduate.
All this means that you will probably not hear from me for about a day or two, or maybe a week even! I will need some time to acclimatise myself to the IIT B Hostel system. And I will have to find out who to appease to get access to the computer room without having to wait in line. I know, you are probably thinking, "What am I going to do without Govindraj's posts for three days? Where will I get funny things to read? Woe is me!"
Relax. I'll be back! Besides, who knows, my posts may be funnier when I return to the source of all mirth, the hostel.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
My School Days
As I was walking past the School building today, I recalled that around a zillion years ago (2334634272348 years, 6 months, 23 days and 10hours to be specific) I ceased being a student over there.
I walked into the campus, strolling around in its sylvan surroundings, soaking up the quiet ambience. Hey! What's the post about my Lakshadweep Holiday doing here? According to a directive of an Indian Court, no school shall produce a sound of intensity less than 140 decibels, and that is during regular lecture hours. Seriously! The amount of noise the kids were making was simply amazing. They would have to invent a new scale to measure the intensity. I now know why Nuclear tests aren't conducted near residential areas. They are probably afraid they will be unable to hear the detonation over the noise!
At a nuclear test site near a school (pure pandemonium)
Scientist A : How did it go?
Scientist B : What?
Scientist A : (Using sign language) How did it go?
Scientist B : It was good. (Sound of children running and fighting in the background) We could actually find out the time that school ends! We are planning to conduct tests after school hours.
Unfortunately for the Scientists, the kids are very clever. They probably have found out the EXACT timing the poor people are going to conduct the tests and will choose that specific time to play cricket and have arguments. The amount of noise made while playing this particular sport is about thrice as much as a nuclear explosion and about twice of that of some rock bands. So, the scientists will have to conduct their tests at a time when the kids are sleeping. This is why scientists in India prefer obscure places like Rajasthan to conduct their tests.
But nuclear tests is not what the article is about. Its about my school days. How I long for those days of simple life, where passing in all subjects was a given. And the person with the God status was usually the one who could chew three chewing gums at a time and make funny noises with his arm pits at the same time! Now, you guys are probably thinking that we were a bunch of misfits; a total give up. But we weren't bad academically. Why, one of my friends got as high as 53% in his annual exams.
Okay, we weren't exactly geniuses or anything, but we made it through school like the millions of other students do. And as I was roaming around the school, the final bell rang and at least that many students came rushing out of the exit and there was a near stampede situation. But I survived it, using my superb skills as an acrobat to catch hold of the watch man and hold him as a physical shield in front of me. It was only after I realised that the crowd had passed that I let the man go. Its not every day that you face a life and death situation.
As I exited the school campus, I saw a couple of nerdy, brainy looking guys signalling to each other and laughing at me. They were wearing strange type of white coats, with some insignia on them. I wonder who they could be...
I walked into the campus, strolling around in its sylvan surroundings, soaking up the quiet ambience. Hey! What's the post about my Lakshadweep Holiday doing here? According to a directive of an Indian Court, no school shall produce a sound of intensity less than 140 decibels, and that is during regular lecture hours. Seriously! The amount of noise the kids were making was simply amazing. They would have to invent a new scale to measure the intensity. I now know why Nuclear tests aren't conducted near residential areas. They are probably afraid they will be unable to hear the detonation over the noise!
At a nuclear test site near a school (pure pandemonium)
Scientist A : How did it go?
Scientist B : What?
Scientist A : (Using sign language) How did it go?
Scientist B : It was good. (Sound of children running and fighting in the background) We could actually find out the time that school ends! We are planning to conduct tests after school hours.
Unfortunately for the Scientists, the kids are very clever. They probably have found out the EXACT timing the poor people are going to conduct the tests and will choose that specific time to play cricket and have arguments. The amount of noise made while playing this particular sport is about thrice as much as a nuclear explosion and about twice of that of some rock bands. So, the scientists will have to conduct their tests at a time when the kids are sleeping. This is why scientists in India prefer obscure places like Rajasthan to conduct their tests.
But nuclear tests is not what the article is about. Its about my school days. How I long for those days of simple life, where passing in all subjects was a given. And the person with the God status was usually the one who could chew three chewing gums at a time and make funny noises with his arm pits at the same time! Now, you guys are probably thinking that we were a bunch of misfits; a total give up. But we weren't bad academically. Why, one of my friends got as high as 53% in his annual exams.
Okay, we weren't exactly geniuses or anything, but we made it through school like the millions of other students do. And as I was roaming around the school, the final bell rang and at least that many students came rushing out of the exit and there was a near stampede situation. But I survived it, using my superb skills as an acrobat to catch hold of the watch man and hold him as a physical shield in front of me. It was only after I realised that the crowd had passed that I let the man go. Its not every day that you face a life and death situation.
As I exited the school campus, I saw a couple of nerdy, brainy looking guys signalling to each other and laughing at me. They were wearing strange type of white coats, with some insignia on them. I wonder who they could be...
A Free Article
I haven't had to think a lot for writing this particular blog.
I received voluminous amounts of hate mail for my earlier post, titled "Females and human misery". The amount was spectacularly mind boggling. On one day there was no comment and the next day there was ONE mail. An increase of INFINITE percent. I can't believe my blog has become so popular!
So, anyway, to summarise what the female mail (HA!) writer has said, I will for journalistic fairness present it over here :
Dear Mr. Umarji,
Just who the hell do you think you are? I am a member of the Society of Online Women (SOW) and we have taken serious note of your perpetration of rumours against the sisterhood. Blah blah blah... Just because your unintelligent life form is incapable of communicating, you keep on blaming us for being unable to read maps, taking a right turn after giving a signal for a left, blah, blah... We are considering suing you for your unasked for comments, you male chauvinist pig.
Regards,
Laila
Okay, fine. Her name was not Laila. But I can't help it. I like the name Laila. It has some fascinating quality about it, the words sort of roll around in your mouth. It has a beautiful meaning and it has only five alphabets in it, making it very easy to type. Try typing Laila, and you will understand. Way better than something like Cinderella or Aishwarya.
I hate to gloat, but I would like to take a minute out here to point out that their mail proves what I've been trying to say all the time. The fact that I receive such a hate mail for writing what I (and several other brothers (?)) think is a funny and humourous article is reason enough to say that women are unpredictable. But I'm afraid, I'm seriously afraid that they'll sue me for every buck I've got.
I agree that when it comes to communication, we males are duds. I mean, the rules and other stuff I've published is fine, but what we really need to look at is to be able to communicate better with the fairer sex. For example, I have noticed guys with their mouth gaping open when their girl friend is talking something (I realise that this could be due to lack of oxygen. Or their brain going into Stand by mode) But that is no excuse. You guys should learn to speak and let your opinions be known.
P.S. Now that I've written what you've asked me to, here's a question that's been troubling me to no end. Are you happy? Because you are so unpredicta.. OH NO! Not the Law Suit. Please. I'm sorry!
I received voluminous amounts of hate mail for my earlier post, titled "Females and human misery". The amount was spectacularly mind boggling. On one day there was no comment and the next day there was ONE mail. An increase of INFINITE percent. I can't believe my blog has become so popular!
So, anyway, to summarise what the female mail (HA!) writer has said, I will for journalistic fairness present it over here :
Dear Mr. Umarji,
Just who the hell do you think you are? I am a member of the Society of Online Women (SOW) and we have taken serious note of your perpetration of rumours against the sisterhood. Blah blah blah... Just because your unintelligent life form is incapable of communicating, you keep on blaming us for being unable to read maps, taking a right turn after giving a signal for a left, blah, blah... We are considering suing you for your unasked for comments, you male chauvinist pig.
Regards,
Laila
Okay, fine. Her name was not Laila. But I can't help it. I like the name Laila. It has some fascinating quality about it, the words sort of roll around in your mouth. It has a beautiful meaning and it has only five alphabets in it, making it very easy to type. Try typing Laila, and you will understand. Way better than something like Cinderella or Aishwarya.
I hate to gloat, but I would like to take a minute out here to point out that their mail proves what I've been trying to say all the time. The fact that I receive such a hate mail for writing what I (and several other brothers (?)) think is a funny and humourous article is reason enough to say that women are unpredictable. But I'm afraid, I'm seriously afraid that they'll sue me for every buck I've got.
I agree that when it comes to communication, we males are duds. I mean, the rules and other stuff I've published is fine, but what we really need to look at is to be able to communicate better with the fairer sex. For example, I have noticed guys with their mouth gaping open when their girl friend is talking something (I realise that this could be due to lack of oxygen. Or their brain going into Stand by mode) But that is no excuse. You guys should learn to speak and let your opinions be known.
P.S. Now that I've written what you've asked me to, here's a question that's been troubling me to no end. Are you happy? Because you are so unpredicta.. OH NO! Not the Law Suit. Please. I'm sorry!
Friday, September 02, 2005
Telephone Disorder
The greatest mistake a parent can ever make (other than giving birth to a child in the first place) is to introduce it to the telephone. There's a saying that goes thus : "Parents spend the first three years of their child's life trying to get it to talk. And then spend the rest of their lifes trying to get it to stop talking!"
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not against telephones. Which other device enables you to wake some one up at three in the morning and ask him whether he was sleeping? There is simply no comparison of any other contemporary device with this boon.
I'm often disturbed by these instruments of communication. This morning for instance, I was engrossed deeply in thought, cleaning my ear with the end of my little finger in a sincere effort to come up with something funny to write in my blog. And I thought, "What better topic to write about than telephones!"
I was foraging about in my memory for a funny incident that had occurred with me, that involved telephones, all the while scratching furiously. And there it was : lying just next to the telephone, where I had least expected to find it. The earbud. This critical tool helped me clean my ear for better communication with any prospective callers.
So, there I was. Sitting patiently by the phone, waiting for a caller; maybe a person who dialled a wrong number and managed to get through to me. Just then, the phone rang.
Govindraj : Hello.
Caller : Hello. Is this the residence of Mr. Umarji?
G : Yes. This is Mr. Umarji speaking. And I'm speaking to? (Said in a very sweet voice. The caller was a female. There is this thing about females talking on the phone. All females sound GREAT on the phone. In real life however, they may be as dull as you are!)
C : I'm Laila. I'm calling you for a survey being conducted for the fertiliser industry.
G : Oh! So you are calling me because you know I'm an Environmental Engineer?
C : No, I'm calling you because I'm being paid Rs. 100 an hour to do so and you are on my list of numbers to be called and dealt with today. So, if you stop wasting my time, maybe we can get down to business.
At this point, I banged down the phone. I was hoping that the smashing of the phone would create a sonic wave that would travel through the phone line, erupting beside that female's ear, thereby deafening her. But then, as I realised later, she was probably deaf already. I hear the survey people are paid to be deaf to all those things that they don't want to hear.
Again, the bell rang. This time, bringing me out of my nose picking reverie.
G : Hello.
C : Mr. Umarji?
G : Who wants to know? (In an effort to be stylish)
C : I'm calling from Less Organised Sources of Entrepreneur Recruitment (LOSER) (Actually, I'm not sure if this was indeed what he said. It definitely sounded something similar.)
G : And you want to talk to me about?
C : It has been brought to our notice that you have a blog, which has its share of readers and we were wondering...
G : (Interrupting him) Oh! So, you want to recruit me as an Entrepreneur? Or a writer?
C : No. We want your permission to use your blog as a representative for our LOSERs, to show them how a blog should NOT be written.
BANG! (Sound of receiver on the hand set)
Third call. Third time lucky? I had certainly hoped so.
G : Yes? (Tired and resigned sounding)
C : I'm from the Community for the Protection and Upkeep of Harmless and Useful Telephone Receivers Against the Merciless Users of Telephone who have no regard for the Utility of the Phone and Keep on criticising it. (CPUHUTRAMUTUPK)
G : And you are calling for?
C: It has been brought to our notice that you have a tendency to bang down your phone receiver. This is intolerable. The next time you do that...
He was cut short by my banging down the receiver on him too.
You will probably say that some of the stuff written here has been made up in an effort to make the post funny. I have to accept that and divulge the truth. The name of the female who called me up for the fertiliser industry was Reema.
Tring... Tring...
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not against telephones. Which other device enables you to wake some one up at three in the morning and ask him whether he was sleeping? There is simply no comparison of any other contemporary device with this boon.
I'm often disturbed by these instruments of communication. This morning for instance, I was engrossed deeply in thought, cleaning my ear with the end of my little finger in a sincere effort to come up with something funny to write in my blog. And I thought, "What better topic to write about than telephones!"
I was foraging about in my memory for a funny incident that had occurred with me, that involved telephones, all the while scratching furiously. And there it was : lying just next to the telephone, where I had least expected to find it. The earbud. This critical tool helped me clean my ear for better communication with any prospective callers.
So, there I was. Sitting patiently by the phone, waiting for a caller; maybe a person who dialled a wrong number and managed to get through to me. Just then, the phone rang.
Govindraj : Hello.
Caller : Hello. Is this the residence of Mr. Umarji?
G : Yes. This is Mr. Umarji speaking. And I'm speaking to? (Said in a very sweet voice. The caller was a female. There is this thing about females talking on the phone. All females sound GREAT on the phone. In real life however, they may be as dull as you are!)
C : I'm Laila. I'm calling you for a survey being conducted for the fertiliser industry.
G : Oh! So you are calling me because you know I'm an Environmental Engineer?
C : No, I'm calling you because I'm being paid Rs. 100 an hour to do so and you are on my list of numbers to be called and dealt with today. So, if you stop wasting my time, maybe we can get down to business.
At this point, I banged down the phone. I was hoping that the smashing of the phone would create a sonic wave that would travel through the phone line, erupting beside that female's ear, thereby deafening her. But then, as I realised later, she was probably deaf already. I hear the survey people are paid to be deaf to all those things that they don't want to hear.
Again, the bell rang. This time, bringing me out of my nose picking reverie.
G : Hello.
C : Mr. Umarji?
G : Who wants to know? (In an effort to be stylish)
C : I'm calling from Less Organised Sources of Entrepreneur Recruitment (LOSER) (Actually, I'm not sure if this was indeed what he said. It definitely sounded something similar.)
G : And you want to talk to me about?
C : It has been brought to our notice that you have a blog, which has its share of readers and we were wondering...
G : (Interrupting him) Oh! So, you want to recruit me as an Entrepreneur? Or a writer?
C : No. We want your permission to use your blog as a representative for our LOSERs, to show them how a blog should NOT be written.
BANG! (Sound of receiver on the hand set)
Third call. Third time lucky? I had certainly hoped so.
G : Yes? (Tired and resigned sounding)
C : I'm from the Community for the Protection and Upkeep of Harmless and Useful Telephone Receivers Against the Merciless Users of Telephone who have no regard for the Utility of the Phone and Keep on criticising it. (CPUHUTRAMUTUPK)
G : And you are calling for?
C: It has been brought to our notice that you have a tendency to bang down your phone receiver. This is intolerable. The next time you do that...
He was cut short by my banging down the receiver on him too.
You will probably say that some of the stuff written here has been made up in an effort to make the post funny. I have to accept that and divulge the truth. The name of the female who called me up for the fertiliser industry was Reema.
Tring... Tring...
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The Publicity Thing
I'm surprised that a newbie like me could adapt so well to this blogging thing. Its not possible always that you get to do the thing that you love to do the most. And that too for free! And then, there is the added benefit of having a lot of free publicity by making comments about all sorts of people. I agree with the marketing people who say "Any publicity is good publicity".
Now, let me get one thing straight over here. I'm not into this blogging thing for publicity (Who am I kidding? ) When I started writing this blog, the only intention in my mind was to convey my inner thoughts to other people (Yeah, right!) And, of course, if I really wanted the attention that desperately, I would have placed a Google AdSense advertisement on my blog and tried to earn some money on the side (The only reason you didn't was that you couldn't figure out where to put the code)
Okay, fine. I'm into this for the attention I receive. But I'm not a desperate attention seeker. I mean, I wont mind if you look the other way when I'm continuing with my rambling about not being an attention seeker and other miscellaneous boring stuff, and making you read unreasonably long sentences, just because I can't think of anything funny to say. I wont mind at all if you look the other way.
HEY! STOP! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE. At least read the whole blog! Please. I beg you.
Thank you.
Now, let me get one thing straight over here. I'm not into this blogging thing for publicity (Who am I kidding? ) When I started writing this blog, the only intention in my mind was to convey my inner thoughts to other people (Yeah, right!) And, of course, if I really wanted the attention that desperately, I would have placed a Google AdSense advertisement on my blog and tried to earn some money on the side (The only reason you didn't was that you couldn't figure out where to put the code)
Okay, fine. I'm into this for the attention I receive. But I'm not a desperate attention seeker. I mean, I wont mind if you look the other way when I'm continuing with my rambling about not being an attention seeker and other miscellaneous boring stuff, and making you read unreasonably long sentences, just because I can't think of anything funny to say. I wont mind at all if you look the other way.
HEY! STOP! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE. At least read the whole blog! Please. I beg you.
Thank you.
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