Oh.. those years of clattering fun !

A couple of days back, my mind aimlessly wandered towards the years I spent in our ancestral house in the old city area of Hyderabad. Those were days when I was still in school and we lived in a joint family setup with almost 20 plus people in the house. The fact that there was no 24x7 idiot box transmission meant that all our free time was spent breaking window panes of neighbouring houses (and our house as well !) with sixes that might put Dhoni and Yuvraj to shame.

The time we spend blogging, chatting, orkutting on the web these days were beautifully utilized in running around the house, gathering all area kids and playing 'Test matches' in the school ground nearby after bribing the caretaker with some oranges!

And the most rewarding of those experiences came with the cycle rides. One did not need to own a cycle in those days. One had the services of a neighbourhood 'rent-a-cycle'-wala who would rent us cycles for as less as 50paise an hour (and we considered that costly!). We cousins would embark on our journeys through the lanes and bylanes of the Old City area of Hyderabad, where one could find more cycles and cycle-rickshaws than probably any other place on earth, or so we thought! We explored each and every bylane in a 3km radius from our house on our daily rides. It might have been prudent if the folks from Survey of India had hired our services.

There used to be an old magazine vendor near our house and our weekends were spent on buying old Tinkles and Amar Chitra Katha magazines at paltry 50p- Re 1 rates. Then it was the turn to number it, register it and add it to our library, which boasted of over 500 titles. It held a proud place in our house. Visting cousins and friends were envious of the same.

Moharram, the time to mourn for the Muslims, was actually a time to rejoice for us kids. The ten days preceeding the final day used to see small makeshift roadside stalls selling numerous varieties of play stuff for the kids.. whistles and 'pitpiti' being my personal favorites. All shapes and sizes of balloons, bubble blowers et al were sold at such exhorbitant (!) rates that our annual Moharram shopping bill crossed a huge ten to fifteen rupees! And it was fun to use those pitpitis on our friends from the New City areas of the city in school, who would jump and scream at the sudden noise!

Hyderabadi Irani chai was another very regular speciality we indulged in. It costed a rupee and we would collect enough to devour fatafats in the school canteen and have irani chai nearer home.

Today, we live in an area of the Modern Hyderabad, barely eight miles from the ancestral house, but the world is so totally different. Today, its the hustle and bustle of the busy crowds. The daily cycle rides have been replaced by car drives to the main road to pick up our folks. The Moharram shopping takes a backseat to the visits to the Lifestyle and Central malls. The irani chai is more often than not replaced by the Irish coffee and cappuchino! The window panes are now intact (can't remember the last one I cracked) while the keyboard gets rapped and the mouse gets tapped. The Faster Fane and Malgudi Days and the Mahabharats have been replaced by the CIDs and Indian Idols or even the nonsense news on India TV.

I wish there was a system restore facility where I could go back to those late 80s and early 90s ! Alas, the time for that has gone... I'd wish to write more.. but my friend has been continually buzzing me on yahoo messenger to chat with him !

Aamiresque...

Chk out this bozo !




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Can someone explain this to me ?

Came across this hoarding adverting for the news daily Deccan Chronicle. Can someone plz plz explain to me what it means, and how exactly it is meant to be taken by the people who glare at the babe?


I mean, I donno.. my brain isn't working... HELP !!!

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Of hidden kisses and pregnancies ;)

A man escapes from prison where he has been for 15 years. He breaks into a house to look for money and guns and finds a young couple in bed. He orders the guy out of bed and ties him to a chair. While tying the girl to the bed, he gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then gets up and goes into the bathroom.

While he's in there, the husband whispers to his wife, "Listen this guy's an escaped convict - look at his clothes! He probably spent lots of time in jail and hasn't seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain, do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably very dangerous. If he gets angry, he'll kill us. Be strong, honey. I love you."

To which the wife responds, "He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay, thinks you're cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong, honey. I love you, too."

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A young unmarried girl discovers that she is pregnant. Scared, She confides this ' news' to her mother.

Shouting, cursing, crying, the mother says, "Who was the pig that did This to you?

I want to know!" The girl picks up the phone and makes a call.

Half an hour later a Ferrari stops in front of their house; a mature And distinguished man with gray hair and impeccably dressed in a very expensive suit steps out of it and enters the house.

He sits in the living room with the father, the mother and the Girl, and tells them: "Good morning, your daughter has informed me of the Problem. However, I can't marry her because of my personal family Situation, but I'll take responsibility. If a girl is born I will bequeath her 2 retail stores, a townhouse, a beach villa and a $1,000,000 bank account. If a boy is born, my legacy will be a couple of factories and a $2,000,000 bank account.

If it is twins, a factory and $1,000,000 each. However, if there is a miscarriage, what do you suggest I do?"

At this point, the father, who had remained silent, places a hand firmly on the man's shoulder and tells him, "You can try again !"

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Some jokes to cheer U up...

Parrot on the Flight

In reaching his plane seat, a man is surprised to see a parrot strapped into the seat next to him.

The man asks the stewardess for a cup of coffee and the parrot squawks, "And why don't you get me a whisky you bitch." The stewardess, flustered by the parrot's outburst, brings back a whisky for the parrot but inadvertently forgets the man's cup of coffee.

As the man nicely points out the omission of his coffee to the stewardess, the parrot downs his drink and shouts, "And get me another whisky you slut." Visibly shaken, the stewardess comes back with the parrot's whisky but still no coffee for the man.

Unaccustomed to such slackness, the man decides that he is going to try the parrots approach, "I've asked you twice for a cup of coffee wench, I expect you to get it for me right now or I'm going to slap that disgustingly ugly face of yours!"

Next thing they know, both the man and the parrot are wrenched up and thrown out of the emergency exit by 2 burly stewards. Plunging downwards to the ground the parrot turns to the man and says, "For someone who can't fly, you sure are a lippy bastard... "

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Rooster run-over

A man was driving down a quiet country lane when out into the road strayed a rooster.

Whack! The rooster disappeared under the car in a cloud of feathers.

Shaken, the man pulled over at the farmhouse and rang the doorbell. A farmer appeared.

The man somewhat nervously said, "I think I killed your rooster, please allow me to replace him." "Suit yourself," the farmer replied, "the hens are round the back."

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Viagra, over the counter !

A middle aged man, about 5 foot 8 inches tall, walks into a Walmart and asks where the pharmacy counter is. He is directed to it.

When he reaches it, he asks to see the pharmacist.

The pharmacist comes and the man, looking around furtively, asks quietly, "Do you sell Viagra here?"

The pharmacist answers firmly, "Yes, sir. We certainly do."

The man then asks, "Do you think I could get it over the counter?"

The pharmacist thinks for a moment and then says, "Perhaps, if you took five or six pills at once you might."

Crackdown Madness

A few news items for most of us, but something unbelievably big for those involved.

At the crack of the New year, the same Government that supposedly champions the cause of the fairer sex found itself at the receiving end of some indecent remarks from people the world over. Reason being the totally callous remark by the Commissioner of Police about an incident that involved 80 odd drunk male revellers molesting two single women in the open view of all concerned. That there were police personnel called in to help could not have been of much help to the hapless ladies in question. It speaks a lot about the mentality and the sickness of those involved when such things happen. In a fairer court than this country's judiciary is, such acts should be punished as used to be done in the days gone by. Human rights activists be damned when I say that such people should be paraded naked, tied to a car and dragged along the streets, with onlookers pelting stones and flogging them. And the first one to be dragged should be the top cop himself - not for the inaction but - for that glaringly defeatist remark he made to the press.

On a completely different note, 2008 could not have started on a better note for the man who was my senior in school, the Very Very Special Laxman. Sydney Cricket Ground has become a home of sorts for this gentle cricketer, who is probably the only top ranked Indian sportsman whom one fails to spot selling colas and 'music albums'. Such a fantastic effort was his 109 that the temendous effort of Rahul Dravid paled in comparison. RD showed everyone what one needs to do when he is not in form. Grind. Grind the opposition to dust. And that is what he did in his dogged stay at the crease.

Supreme Goddess Sonia Gandhi found herself in the sickbed of a hospital with a mild asthma attack precipated by the super chill the National capital is facing these days, which made her devotees come out in drones to do yagnas for her speedy recovery trying to prove that the Congress still has followers despite the recent Saffron rage. Oh God damn it.. she had a mild attack.. she wasn't on her death bed (how I wish!). Can the same amount of money spent on those useless yagna sets be used to provide a few blankets to those braving the chills on the streets? And the 50 odd television cameras focussing on each of those yagnas be zoomed on atleast one child collecting waste paper out of garbage dumps at 5AM in the Delhi chill n fog?

Nah.. forget it.. we are living in India !