Saturday, August 26, 2006

Humour me

A little blind girl goes up to her mum and says, "Mummy, mummy, when will I be able to see?"
Her mum replies "I'll tell you what, I'll take you to the chemist and get you some special cream for your eyes and you will be able to see in the morning."
So off they went to the chemist, got the cream, and went home, all the while the little girl was getting more and more excited at the prospect of being able to see again. Once they got home, the mother put the cream on the little girls eyes, wrapped a bandage around her head, and took her to bed.
The following morning the little girl stumbled into her mums bedroom and excitedly shouted "Quick mummy, take off the bandage so that I will be able to see again."
So the mother slowly took of all the bandages, taking her time, and all the while the little girl was getting more and more excited. Once they were off the little girl said "But mummy, I still can't see."
To which the mother replied, "April fool!"
---


These three guys die in a car wreck and they all go to Hell. When they arrive the Devil asks each of the men what their sin was.
The first guy says, "It's gotta be the booze. I'm always drunk." The Devil decides to lock him in a room with nothing but shelves of every kind of alcohol imaginable. The guy's thinking, "Fuck yeah! Look at all this alcohol!" and runs into the room.
The second guy says, "It's the women, i could never stay faithful to my wife." The devil opens up the second door and inside is nothing but the finest looking naked women as far as the eye can see. The guy was to be locked in for 100 years. He couldn't believe it and his dick got instantly hard and he went running into the room as the Devil locked the door behind him.
The third dude says, "It's gotta be the bud. I'm always tokin' up." The Devil opens the third door to reveal nothing but fields of 10ft tall icky, sticky, take-a-toke, make-ya-choke, chronic, green, death bud. The stoner can't believe it. he goes in and takes a seat Indian style with his back to the door and the Devil shuts and locks the door.
One hundred years pass and the Devil returns to check on the three men. He opens the first door and the man comes crawling out. He's got an empty bottle in one hand, he's completely naked, hasn't shaved or showered in years, and is covered in his own puke, shit, and piss. "i'll never drink again!" he says. The devil says it's good he learned something and decides to give him a second shot at life. The devil then opens the second door and the man comes running out twice as fast as when he went in. "I'm fucking gay!" he screams. The devil figures he's learned not to cheat on his wife and decides to give him a second chance too.
The devil then comes to the third door. he opens it and sees nothing has changed. the stoner is still sitting there in the same position that he was 100 years ago. The Devil asks him if he's learned anything. The stoner turns around as a tear rolls down his cheek, "You gotta light, man?"
---

"Hello, is this the FBI?"
"Yes, what do you want?"
"I'm calling to report my neighbor Billy Bob Smith! He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood."
"Thank you very much for the call, sir."
The next day, the FBI agents descend on Billy Bob's house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They swore at Billy Bob and left.
The phone rings at Billy Bob's house.
Hey, Billy Bob! Did the FBI come?"
"Yeah!"
"Did they chop your firewood?"
"Yep."
"Happy Birthday, Buddy!"

Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Pied Pipers of Prawn Balchao

The folks have moved the restaurant again!!
This is the fourth place Bernardo's has moved to.
Probably a new record as far as hopping restaurants go. Though I don't know if any exist. At least not in this city..

The first joint was this pigeon hole above a tentwallah in the Mehar Chand market where the roof would leak in the rain and guests were encouraged to bring umbrellas.
They came anyway.
Lasted about six-odd months there before upping skirt and stove to BongLand.
This time around we got a bigger place with an air-conditioner and a loo. The only fuck-up being that the place was in a residential colony and hence illegal.
So cops and random obnoxious neighbours who didn't like the smell of frying fish (in BongLand of all places!!!) would harass the old man and woman.
Third stop was a nice place, if a little out-of-the-way in a deserted complex in Gurgaon. Palm trees, a backyard and shit added to the Goa feel.
The new place is in DLF Galleria, a first-floor, duplex joint that looks sorta like a ship's cabin complete with portholes and lemon yellow coloured walls.
(They've gotten bamboo matting for the reception)

The menu's being expanded and folks want us (Sister and self) to start taking active interest.
Which means self has started cooking lessons... self taught of course..

Friday, August 18, 2006

I got too much time on my hands

Last blowout we had on the terrace, folks really appreciated the view of the sky. Living in the city, a view is something you don't really consider when you're looking for a place to shift too.
But we've tried our best.
The GK house sucked. It faced out into a lane and the terrace wasn't high enough for a proper view. All we got to see were black Sintex tanks, old woman bras drying and an electric Medusa.
The first Gurgaon house isn't even worth mentioning. Ground floor with no voltage stabiliser. So we had disco lights in the kitchen and had to use a candle to crap. Almost like the outhouse on the island.
The second PV house was pretty close to perfect. The front balcony overlooked the lane in front of the house, beyond which was a small park sort of thing, the Delhi-Jaipur railway line and then fields that dispersed into hazy forest.
Fucking trippy in the winters when the Palace on Wheels loco would come steaming through the morning mist with mustard fields running alongside. Not to mention trainspotting after dark and random air-rifle practice at milkmen perched on top of the local trains.

The JP house, however, is in a league of its own. Ok fine, there's no endless fields and forest, but there is a panoramic view of the city, which on a nice night can make this town seem to be a really nice place to live.
The thing is .. it's never really night in the city.
The night sky over is always this dark purple with (nowadays) orange puffs.
Sporadic trains from nearby Nizamuddin will announce their arrival, planes will drone dutifully overhead toward Palam and IGI and annoying neighbours will race their un-muffled Enfields up and down the road outside your house.

Nothing new I know.. but a night spent at the folks outside Gurgaon, just an hour or so away and the inky black sky is packed with starlight. The only sound apart from the dogs wheezing and whining is the faraway sound of a tractor being worked while the stilted melody of some really shady Hindi song rides the constant zephyrs blowing your way.

The only time I remember being in the real wilderness in India, with literally not a soul in sight, was when we were heading to Goa for New Year's in 2004.
The Goa Express was passing through Karnataka and stopped in the ghats for a bit sometime around 2 in the am.
Most passengers were asleep, but remember being too wired for shut eye.
So SoapSuds and self hopped out to stretch our legs and our voices were the only sound we could hear.
Looked up and the sky was bright with star light. The first time I'd ever seen anything like that. We shut up for a bit and the absolute peace was oddly calming and nerve-wracking at the same time.
Which is when we got the idea to light one of the 100-laddi firecrackers we had with us (for New Year's Eve) and chuck it in the bushes beyond the track.
Of course SoapSuds had to shout "Veerapan, Veerapan" at the top of his nasal voice before clambering back up, giggling uncontrollably.

Good times

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Still around

Been fucking swamped with work this past two weeks. The mag's been on a buzzing deadline besides all the random out-of-the-blue partying that's been happening in town recently.
We (Kbeer and self) threw a combo celebratory shindig because we both moved to new visiting cards within days of each other. Now he's on the straight flight to Vienna.

Party was all right. Not the numbers I was expecting but then again... the bar's been wet since. All our scenes are BYOB.. so..

Smoked a spliff the next day and went shopping by myself. Hate going with other people, especially if I have to stop, stand and wait while someone checks out something they're really not going to buy.
Got a good deal on a digi-cam too.

Working here is pretty chiller.
There are six guys, five of whom have been introduced to the magic dragon.
And there's the BritChick who handles fashion.
Small outfit. Well equipped. And with a work ethic that requires one to be really on-the-ball.

Anyhoo..
The Confessor had her little pre-Independance Day get together on I-Day eve and though folks took their time getting there, went for a bit before strangers outnumbered the regulars.

There's another boozer binge tonight.. another birthday. Another housewarming this Saturday...

Ahh my liver..where art thou?

Monday, August 07, 2006

It's a small ass world

After all the hullabaloo last week (read post below) self has been settling into the new place gradually..

Some coincidences:
* The deputy editor and self have common friends in the Warrior and the Monkey
* The intern and the Dionysian are chaddi buddies
* The graphic designer here is the younger brother of the graphic designer at the earlier magazine I used to be with
* A school friend contributes illustrations to the magazine
* Another friend works with another magazine in the same group in the same building as does a designer who used to be at the paper.
* Chicklet who used to work with self at the travel magazine is also here, working on this other travel magazine.
* The fashion editor lives literally right behind my house.
* Also, when I showed my offer letter to the folks, turns out the president of the company is a family friend!!

Went to the farm this past Saturday night..folks have five more dogs including three prancing gay fuckers that some Russian ballerina left them.
Bambi's death has made FatBastard mellower.. he sleeps in her spot, eats from her bowl and doesn't try to dry hump everythng in sight anymore.
The Napoleanic aggression of Junior has also faded away with newer dogs and lesser attention going around. He stays away from the house near the bamboo grove..
Pickles the half Doberman-Rottweiler doesnt do much .. sits in a hole he dug in the shade of his private condo and woofs lazily at passing clouds and village children..
The farm's value has rocketed up into the big bucks what with a super expressway being planned nearby. So the one-and-a-half-acre the folks bought four years ago (in the then back of beyond) is now pushing the multi-crore envelope..much to everyone's surprise and delight.
The trees are coming up too.. Folks ave stopped trying to exercise their horticultural skills and have decided on shady fruit trees instead of fricking onions and carrots and brocolli.
Been trying to convince folks to put in a pool.. at least a 3-ft wading pool..
but they say the dogs will just use it as a giant lavatory anyway..

It's always nice to go home once in a while (once-in-a-while being the operative phrase).. even with the 3am yowling and occasional canine slobber finding its way into your ear when you least expect it..

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Scapegoat politics and the fairness of life

Came in late to work on Sunday because I had to run to Gurgaon on family emergency.

As a consequence, didn't pay much attention to the page and Barkha Dutt went as CNBC managing editor (where she is actually NDTV's managing editor.. for those who don't know or care who Barkha Dutt is).
Stupid mistake on my part... but the mistake ran even though the page was read by a senior editor before release.
Something else I didn't know till today was that Anand Sharma (some vague minister) went as Sajjan Kumar (an equally vague politician).

Now, as Barkha D is bumchums with everybody down from ol' Viru, I was getting serious flack.
Viru'd been yelling at my ed to suspend or fire me pretty much all day..

All this over a caption??? It isn't like I said Barkha Dutt was a scheming little newswhore, or a dwarf she-male or an amputated penis ... I just got her place of work wrong ...

Did anyone read the HT on Saturday? The 'riveting' story on some divorced Thai princess who wants a crack at the Jaipur millions? Did anyone notice the bit with the fucked up dates?
That's a MAIN paper goof up... but of course.. the Thai princess is nobody's friend. So even though the Resident Editor read that story, I doubt they're gonna find a scapegoat there to crucify.


What is getting my goat is that everywhere else, it is the person doing the final checking that is at fault if a mistake goes. I ain't saying none of it was my fault, but not all of it is either.

A couple of days ago, some random businessman was photographed with his hand on some chick's ass. The reporter who covered the party said the man was Onkar Singh (of Apollo Tyres) and the chick was Ruheen Jaiswal (some Mumbai-based socialite).
I had (and still have) no idea on what this Ruheen woman looks like so I obviously assumed his information to be correct and ran a caption that said "Watch your hand sonny".
Turns out the chick is actually his daughter.
Guess who gets stuck with complete blame?

Met Viru a couple of days ago and he says they want to chuck me out because of the captions.
Asked him if he could reconsider the decision.
He mumbles something that sounds like "I've made up my mind" so I shrug and leave.

Got back to my desk, made a few phone calls, fixed an interview for 6pm the same day, and am now features editor at the coolest lad mag around.. hint hint: MAXIMum exposure
In your face Barracuda Bitch and ViruS..

Folk from the earlier place had been calling to find out what happened. Most were in shock, but then with the megalomaniacs running that joint, you can't expect anything better..