Half the seats in my office are empty today. It's a bank holiday in London.
Someone quipped(and this time I am fairly sure it was me): "Woh holiday pe holi nahi manaate, aur hum holi pe holiday. Even stevens"
My colleagues, in unison: Shit!!!
ME: Holi shit.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
AY HP ROTTERR....
If you are an HP fan, you should read this, and if you are one of his h(e)aters, well you must.
http://www.cracked.com/article_17510_5-ways-people-are-taking-harry-potter-waaay-too-seriously.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_17510_5-ways-people-are-taking-harry-potter-waaay-too-seriously.html
Saturday, August 1, 2009
OK, so this is how it happened!!!!!!!!
Disclaimer- All characters and events here are real(or at least as good as my memory), and resemblance to any person, whether in one piece or two, is purely deliberate.
The road was pretty narrow, and whether I was high or it actually got narrower, whenever I saw a four wheeler coming from opposite direction, I don't remember now. Suddenly I saw this truck coming from opposite direction. Swaying heavily, it looked like a drunken Knight Bus and I heard a voice within me(or was it KT, sitting behind me) say "STOP". I looked at the driver and he looked strangely familiar to "The Joker" in The Dark Knight. Suddenly the thing between my legs(the bike, you pervert) felt like a Batmobile bike, and I accelerated instead of slowing down.
Moments later, while lying on the road, I heard some strange noises and when I looked up there seemed a chopper hovering above me. But disappearence of the chopper next moment made me realise it was not the sound of the blades but KT chanting f**k-f**k-f**k-f**k like some kind of healing mantra, while shaking his head like a flying object hovering overhead. "Let's go", was all I said getting up. "Which hospital?", KT asked. "We are not going to a hospital, unless you are badly hurt", I replied trying not to wince. "I'm fine", he said, adding with suspicious eyes,"You sure you'll be OK though?". "Yeah. Lets go to Motz place" I said with some finality in my voice.
We picked up whatever was left of the bike and left the place quietly. KT rode this time, with me sitting silently behind him, clutching my left shoulder - which I came to know a little later was broken - with my right hand tightly. It didn't help much as KT seemed hell bent on getting a confession out of me and actually increased the speed whenever he saw a speed breaker in front of him, singing merrily "I'm on a highway to hell". "You saying something", suddenly he turned his head sideways and asked loudly. "It's not me. The broken bones, if moved a lot produce sounds like that", I said in the most sarcastic manner I could. With a devillish grin(and increased speed) he asked, "Oh, so what do the sounds seem to say, haan?". "Slooowww Dooooooowwwwnnnnn", I yelled seeing the next speed braker approaching us at 50 kmph.
We reached Motz' place at around midnight. No, we did not go there because he is a doctor, though considering his lifestyle, he badly needs to see one. And everyone over there suggested going to a hospital/nursing home immediately, except me of course. I suggested watching a movie, promising everyone that if the shoulder got any worse, we would go to a hospital immediately. By the time the movie was over, I found there was some kind of yawn fest going on inside the room. So, I quietly started watching another movie. After finishing the 2nd movie at 6 o' clock in the morning, I felt like getting up from the bed and figured that I couldn't. My left hand, like a vehicle stuck in BTM signal, refused to move.
I woke KT up and asked him to come with me, at which he started asking questions only a person woken against his will at 6 a.m could ask. "It still hurts?", he asked a little over-rubbing his sleepy eyes. "No, it's tickling me now, which I find very irritating", I retorted. He couldn't pretend any longer and we went to St John's, the nearest one from Motz' house.
There, KT was told he was fine, which we already knew and I was told I was not, which was not very surprising either. When I pressed for more info, the doc just said, "It's a clavicle fracture". Very euphemistically I told him when a person from non medical back-ground asks for more info, you ought to tell him "what's broken and how badly", in plain and simple terms. He took the cue and informed me that my collar bone is broken which can be fixed without any surgery, though I would have to wear a brace(the last 2 letters looked so redundant to me when I first looked at it) and an arm sling for at least one month, which sounded much worse than a surgery. Then the doc told me the "figure of 8" brace - which worked like a phaansi ka fanda for shoulders - will be on 24X7, until either the bone is completely mended or I am strangled to death, whichever comes earlier.
I came home, blessed my lucky stars, tried to picture what's gonna happen in next few days, maybe weeks and slept off.
The road was pretty narrow, and whether I was high or it actually got narrower, whenever I saw a four wheeler coming from opposite direction, I don't remember now. Suddenly I saw this truck coming from opposite direction. Swaying heavily, it looked like a drunken Knight Bus and I heard a voice within me(or was it KT, sitting behind me) say "STOP". I looked at the driver and he looked strangely familiar to "The Joker" in The Dark Knight. Suddenly the thing between my legs(the bike, you pervert) felt like a Batmobile bike, and I accelerated instead of slowing down.
Moments later, while lying on the road, I heard some strange noises and when I looked up there seemed a chopper hovering above me. But disappearence of the chopper next moment made me realise it was not the sound of the blades but KT chanting f**k-f**k-f**k-f**k like some kind of healing mantra, while shaking his head like a flying object hovering overhead. "Let's go", was all I said getting up. "Which hospital?", KT asked. "We are not going to a hospital, unless you are badly hurt", I replied trying not to wince. "I'm fine", he said, adding with suspicious eyes,"You sure you'll be OK though?". "Yeah. Lets go to Motz place" I said with some finality in my voice.
We picked up whatever was left of the bike and left the place quietly. KT rode this time, with me sitting silently behind him, clutching my left shoulder - which I came to know a little later was broken - with my right hand tightly. It didn't help much as KT seemed hell bent on getting a confession out of me and actually increased the speed whenever he saw a speed breaker in front of him, singing merrily "I'm on a highway to hell". "You saying something", suddenly he turned his head sideways and asked loudly. "It's not me. The broken bones, if moved a lot produce sounds like that", I said in the most sarcastic manner I could. With a devillish grin(and increased speed) he asked, "Oh, so what do the sounds seem to say, haan?". "Slooowww Dooooooowwwwnnnnn", I yelled seeing the next speed braker approaching us at 50 kmph.
We reached Motz' place at around midnight. No, we did not go there because he is a doctor, though considering his lifestyle, he badly needs to see one. And everyone over there suggested going to a hospital/nursing home immediately, except me of course. I suggested watching a movie, promising everyone that if the shoulder got any worse, we would go to a hospital immediately. By the time the movie was over, I found there was some kind of yawn fest going on inside the room. So, I quietly started watching another movie. After finishing the 2nd movie at 6 o' clock in the morning, I felt like getting up from the bed and figured that I couldn't. My left hand, like a vehicle stuck in BTM signal, refused to move.
I woke KT up and asked him to come with me, at which he started asking questions only a person woken against his will at 6 a.m could ask. "It still hurts?", he asked a little over-rubbing his sleepy eyes. "No, it's tickling me now, which I find very irritating", I retorted. He couldn't pretend any longer and we went to St John's, the nearest one from Motz' house.
There, KT was told he was fine, which we already knew and I was told I was not, which was not very surprising either. When I pressed for more info, the doc just said, "It's a clavicle fracture". Very euphemistically I told him when a person from non medical back-ground asks for more info, you ought to tell him "what's broken and how badly", in plain and simple terms. He took the cue and informed me that my collar bone is broken which can be fixed without any surgery, though I would have to wear a brace(the last 2 letters looked so redundant to me when I first looked at it) and an arm sling for at least one month, which sounded much worse than a surgery. Then the doc told me the "figure of 8" brace - which worked like a phaansi ka fanda for shoulders - will be on 24X7, until either the bone is completely mended or I am strangled to death, whichever comes earlier.
I came home, blessed my lucky stars, tried to picture what's gonna happen in next few days, maybe weeks and slept off.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Got the gist and missed the twist?
For some people, sophistication and subtlety start with Z. One of the specimens happens to be a colleague of mine, who has this habbit of saying, "chalo gandi baatein karte hain" before the start of every bitching session in office. No I am serious, the guy actually says it, word for word which somehow reminds me of All India Radio, and indeed one day, when one such session was about to begin, I heard someone saying, 'Yeh "Dusht Bank" hai, ab aap XYZ se "Gandi Baatein" suniye' . In fact it sounded like my own voice, but I won't be too sure you know; "The Box" keeps reminding me that I am a hallucinatory freak anyway.
Well, whatever I said till now was unintentional blabbering; but admitting that doesn't necessarily guarantee that I would be talking about Einstein's Relativistic Mechanics or British Metaphysical Poets of the 17th Century for the rest of the post. In fact, the blabber might actually get worse....or verse for that matter- I don't know or care for at this moment.
The next moment, as you can see for yourself isn't very revealing either.
Well, before you start cursing me for the 60 seconds of your life that I have just wasted-if it was more than that, either you are hopelessly dyslexic or work in an office where this is the only website which has not yet been firewalled- I quickly force one Pan Dimensional Intergalactic Blabber Blaster capsule down my throat and come straight to the point.
I have always liked people who like to be subtle even when the need of the hour is to be direct, like someone who would prefer to say "resist your temptations to scream" (Woody Allen in The Curse of Jade Scorpion), when simply saying "don't scream" would be sufficient and more importantly necessary to stop the person from showing the inside view of the ugly pair of tonsils he is having with a lot of noise to go with it.
When people say what is the use of saying something subtly, when the more direct version of it means the same thing, it irritates me to the core. How would they like it, I ask if they go to watch a movie with their favourite stars in it and in the very first scene Mr Director appears with the entire crew and says, "OK. So this movie is about a good guy, a bad guy and a girl(whose goodness or badness is to the movie what existence of God is to an agnostic person). In the end the bad guy gets killed/jailed, and the good guy gets the girl.". Whoa! Brilliant I say! The entire movie of 2-3 hrs explained in less than 2 minutes. What is the use of sitting through all that dhishum dhishum and heehee hoohoo for 2-3 hrs for every movie, if 90% of the movies can be shown in this way!?
A couple of years back, I had read an article somewhere, where the author ridicules the omnipresent phrase, "getting the gist". I've forgotten all about the article but I liked the idea. The idea is not just to understand/convey the gist but much more. I am afraid I am not able to express it as clearly as that author did, but you got the gist, did't you? :)
Well, whatever I said till now was unintentional blabbering; but admitting that doesn't necessarily guarantee that I would be talking about Einstein's Relativistic Mechanics or British Metaphysical Poets of the 17th Century for the rest of the post. In fact, the blabber might actually get worse....or verse for that matter- I don't know or care for at this moment.
The next moment, as you can see for yourself isn't very revealing either.
Well, before you start cursing me for the 60 seconds of your life that I have just wasted-if it was more than that, either you are hopelessly dyslexic or work in an office where this is the only website which has not yet been firewalled- I quickly force one Pan Dimensional Intergalactic Blabber Blaster capsule down my throat and come straight to the point.
I have always liked people who like to be subtle even when the need of the hour is to be direct, like someone who would prefer to say "resist your temptations to scream" (Woody Allen in The Curse of Jade Scorpion), when simply saying "don't scream" would be sufficient and more importantly necessary to stop the person from showing the inside view of the ugly pair of tonsils he is having with a lot of noise to go with it.
When people say what is the use of saying something subtly, when the more direct version of it means the same thing, it irritates me to the core. How would they like it, I ask if they go to watch a movie with their favourite stars in it and in the very first scene Mr Director appears with the entire crew and says, "OK. So this movie is about a good guy, a bad guy and a girl(whose goodness or badness is to the movie what existence of God is to an agnostic person). In the end the bad guy gets killed/jailed, and the good guy gets the girl.". Whoa! Brilliant I say! The entire movie of 2-3 hrs explained in less than 2 minutes. What is the use of sitting through all that dhishum dhishum and heehee hoohoo for 2-3 hrs for every movie, if 90% of the movies can be shown in this way!?
A couple of years back, I had read an article somewhere, where the author ridicules the omnipresent phrase, "getting the gist". I've forgotten all about the article but I liked the idea. The idea is not just to understand/convey the gist but much more. I am afraid I am not able to express it as clearly as that author did, but you got the gist, did't you? :)
The pledge
This being the first post of this brand new blog of mine, main Geeta (seeta, nita aur rita if they too are dying for having this priviledge) par hath rakhkar kasam khata hoon ki main yahan jo likhoonga time-pass* likhoonga.
In a Hogwartish nutshell, I solemnly swear that I will be up to no good.
*Conditions Applied.
*Condition- Time paas hoga(mere) tabhi time-pass hoga(tumhara), ok?
In a Hogwartish nutshell, I solemnly swear that I will be up to no good.
*Conditions Applied.
*Condition- Time paas hoga(mere) tabhi time-pass hoga(tumhara), ok?
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