The Liebster Award For Me?

Okay, it's just a nomination. And if you wondering why I'm making such a "Horn OK Please" about it is because the one who nominated me was a travel blogger. That's right. Her virtual journey brought her to my blog, she liked what she saw and then nominated me.Yes me, a motion sickness victim whose most interesting travel discovery in recent times has been a short cut to the Sion station from the house at Chunabhatti. Hard to believe, isn't it? Thank you, Miss Divya Rai. You've given me a reason to believe in myself. To be nominated for a writing prize is something new to me. To be honest, the last time I was even considered for a writing award was when I won the first prize at a caption writing contest at an event at Aptech Computers when I was in Standard 4. Thank you for giving me a reason to return to this blog once more. :)

So, what’s a Liebster Award?
The Liebster Blog Award is given to upcoming/new bloggers or who have less than 200 followers. The ‘Liebster’ word is of German origin and means sweetest/ kindest/ nicest/ dearest/ beloved/ lovely/ kind/ pleasant/ valued/ cute/ endearing/ welcome…

How does it work? 

1. Link back to the persons blog who has nominated you and convey thanks for giving the award.
2. Answer all questions posted by the nominator.
3. Nominate 10 more bloggers whom you feel are deserving of more subscribers; you pass the award on to them.
4. Create 10 questions for the nominees.
5. Contact the nominees and let them know that they have been nominated for the Liebster Award.

The questions I have to answer:

1) One blogpost, which is not from your blog and you think that everyone MUST read it. (Link)
It has to be something by the great Malayali legend, Sidin 'Sunny' Vadukut, who is to Malayali bloggers, what Bob Marley is to Rastafarians. Sample this.

2) Ink-pen, or ball-point pen?
Neither. Nothing has contributed more to my writing than MS Word. Thanks to computers, at least I'm no longer forced to decipher my own handwriting.

3) Have you ever taken a solo holiday?
Yes. I do that often enough. When when I'm in company while on a journey, I'm usually lost in my own world.

4) Your forever crush.
None. My brushes with crushes never last any more than a couple of months. But my first one would be the most special one, and that's Steffi Graf.

5) One book you can read over and over again.
It has to be Catcher In The Rye. Wait, let me read it once more.

6) Your favorite family member?
There cant be just one. Mom, dad and sis.

7) Romantic love, or friendship?
I've been lucky here. So friendship only,

8) Apart from a blogger, you are…?
Nothing much. Don't have much of a life, and write ad copy for a living.

9) Best holiday you had was in (place)?
Has to be the Andamans. Went there as a 6-year old. Still remember the golden sands. And every other beach has been a disappointment ever since.

10) Most adventurous thing you have ever done is…?
Heh! Well, does taking this questionnaire count? If not, I once played the role of a male ballet dancer in a play.

I nominate the following blogs for the Liebster Award

http://www.simblybored.com/

http://taxfreethoughts.wordpress.com/

http://cupandchaucer.wordpress.com/

http://mochachilo.wordpress.com/

http://be-sandeep.blogspot.in/

http://kidakaka.com/blog/category/funny/

http://www.darshi-bappa.blogspot.in/

http://joylita.com/

http://anamedoesntmatter.blogspot.in/

http://sameerdharur.blogspot.in/

The questions for my  nominees

1. Share the link of the funniest blog post you've read.

2. If you could live the life of one character from literature, who would it be?

3. If you were to be stuck in one city for the rest of your life, which would it be?

4. What's the first thing you do when you wake up?

5. Who is your biggest blogging role model?

6. What prompted you to write your first ever blog post?

7. What book are you currently reading?

8. Where do you plan to holiday next?

9. What's your favourite drink( alcoholic preferably)?

10. What's the weirdest(exotic if you insist) food you've sampled?

Cheers!

Whats New? What News?

There comes a time in your life when cheap thrills cease to be...well, cheap. When everything you do is subjected to a cost-benefit analysis in a neat looking excel sheet titled "daily expenses", and the high point of your day is a five rupee coin you magically discover when your fifth-hand semi automatic Washing Machine starts rattling a new tune. And that's when you start asking yourself, "When is the next pay check coming, b******d?" You also discover at least 91 new words in a reply to "What's new?" ( If you include the words in the parenthesis, make that 102)

Lets call it the quarter crisis. It's not to be mistaken for quarter-life crisis, when the hair you lose on your head magically appears in places you'd never imagined, like ear lobes. More about that later, after a few years hopefully.The quarter crisis occurs when you accompany friends to a swanky bar and realise you cant even afford any more than a quarter bottle of your favourite drink. And that's when you make a calculated decision like, "I think I'll stick to beer only. One Kingfisher pint, please."

Yes, much has changed. New job. New city. New companion. New friends. New books. New ring on the finger. New found obsession for loose change. But mostly, it's still the same. Still cribbing about how expensive things are. Still complaining about how little I save. Still whining about how little time I have for myself. Still trying to catch up on lost sleep. Here's to "same old, same old". Cheers, I guess. 

Bombay's Not-to-do List

1. Hop into a fast train when you don’t know if it will stop at your destination

2. Hop into Virar Fast, even if you know where you are headed

3. If you ignore point 1 and 2, then get into a Virar Fast and joke about how it’s too slow to be called fast

4. Make a cricketing reference to point 3, like calling the Virar Fast the Venkatesh Prasad of the Mumbai Local Trains

5. Ask a station master where to buy tickets

6. Show off your first class pass

7. Ask two people on which side the platform comes. The first one will take offense at your lack of trust

8. Joke about how people here love hanging out with friends in trains, quite literally

9. Tell somebody that you won’t be getting off at the next stop

10. Fall asleep while you are standing inside a crowded train

11. Get off a train against the momentum

12. Wait till the train stops at Kurla

13. Ask a local to wait in the auto queue

14. Hop into an auto and call the man bhaiya when he talks to you in Marathi

15. Try explaining to the “bhaiya”(or not) that Khar 19^th road is the same thing as Khar Uneesva.

16. Try taking an Auto at Kurla

17. Try looking for an Auto at Dadar

18. Hop into a bus at South Bombay. Five stops later, you’ll find that you are still at a walkable distance from your first stop

19. Hop into a bus when you only need to get off at the next stop

20. Listen to the cabbies sob story. He watches more Reality TV than you do

21. Ask the man on the street where you’d get the best vada pav

22. Calling any deal from Chor bazaar a steal

23. Support any team other than Mumbai Indians. Even India wouldn’t do

24. Bring up the subject of Sachin’s poor form

25. Bring up the subject of Sachin’s retirement

26. Ask people how much rent they pay. It’s worse than asking them how much they earn

27. Ask a hakim on the street where you could find the closest medical store

28. Ask a roadside vendor where’s the nearest ATM

29. Ask a Sandwich walla where he buys vegetables

30. Ask the pani puri walla where you could buy drinking water

31. Stand in front of Shah Rukh Khan’s house just to call one hardcore fan and tell her that. You just look like an idiot

32. Argue with a fan that SRK is actually a delhi boy

33. Go to a Bombay beach to smell the fresh ocean air

34. Go to Leopold’s and insist on a fast service

35. Go to Mondegar’s immediately after Leopold’s

36. Ask a Teen Batti resident why its called Teen Batti

37. Tell him why it’s called Teen Batti

38. Wear your best pair of shoes if you are pandal hopping during Ganesh Chathurthi

39. Take a train on Ganesh Visarjan day

40. Search for the fort at Fort

41. Ask for Kala Ghoda once you’re at Kala Ghoda

42. Joke around asking if Titwala was named after a friendly parsee gentleman

43. Eat Missal Pav when you’re wearing a white shirt

44. Asking a cabbie what a visitor could do at Grant Road

45. Complain about how you have no time in life

46. Complain about how little you earn

47. Complain

48. Tell a Mumbaikar you are writing a list like this one

49. And that you’ve managed to write upto No. 49

50. Insist on calling the city Bombay and not Mumbai.

I'm a Modern Man by George Carlin.

Ah! What a self-intro!

“I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. 

I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond! 

I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin the wave, dodgin the bullet and pushin the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I’ve got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. 

I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial! 

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers. I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! 

I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail. But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing– a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. 

My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant. 

I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my emails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore–no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. 

I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! 

Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin’ and movin’, sailin’ and spinin’, jiving and groovin’, wailin’ and winnin’. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin’ in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin’ tough, over and out!”

Charged with...wait for it...

Yes, I confess. I'm guilty. Of procrastination. Of spending several days thinking and planning what needed to be done yesterday, only to put it off for tomorrow. Of taking matters in my own hands, and then conveniently sweeping it under the carpet when nobody's watching, only hoping to miraculously pull it out later, along with the rug that the very same people were standing on. I plead guilty of all this and more.  I could of course present the end that could justify my means in this very sentence. But then I think I’ll save that for later. In the last paragraph of this hearing, which I’ll be able to write the first thing tomorrow morning. After I’ve slept over it. Perhaps.

You see, I don’t intentionally delay my actions by a day at the very least. It’s just that I was born that way. A full fifteen minutes later than scheduled. And that was because the doctor on duty was delayed by a train he missed. Only because the man at the counter insisted on tendering exact change. Which the good doctor had to produce only after a detailed excavation of his briefcase. One should never rush in the matters of such financial transactions after all.

Now you’d say 15 minutes is hardly a delay. What it did to my life however was cascade it into a ledger full of backlogs. I learned to talk at least 15 days later, joined kindergarten at least 15 months later, learnt to cycle at least 15 years later, and learned to ask a girl at least 15 lifetimes later.( I once had asked a nice girl out on a date, but only went to pick her up on the wrong date.)

This handicap of mine also seems to rub off on people I deal with. The newspaper reaches 20 minutes after I get out of the pot. The maid walks in one hour after I’ve done the dishes. The paycheck gets credited one week after I’m broke.

But let me assure you. It’s not that I while away hours, waiting to finish any job long after it is due. I’m just incradibly busy trying to ride an ocean of tasks that were previously shelved. But about a month back, I had an awakening of sorts. I decided to do something about this, and went and picked up the first tome I could find on time management. I took some time out to read and implement these changes into my life. The book on effective time management took me more time to read thank I had imagined - 23 days. Which is why, I was forced to write this piece a full month after I first thought of it.

I know I should not end any blog post abruptly. But honestly, would you care to spend any more time reading a piece like this? With this responsibility in mind, I rest my case.

Plain Broke!

I'm always fascinated by man's desire to hold on to things that are absolutely worthless. As a result, ones life is overly populated with objects that serve no purpose whatsoever. Seriously! Look around you. 

I have two sets of desktop speakers that have collectively done little else than occupy space and collect dust  since 2009, three phones that I used to carry before the one I’m currently using (which again is over two years old) and my old iPod shuffle that still contains the latest album I’d downloaded shortly after its release,(which is Ministry of Sound Annual 2007). Does the iPod still work, you ask. Well, I couldn’t say. I haven’t found the earphones that I last saw in…That’s right. 2007! Not to forget three expired ATM cards that were forced upon me every time I changed a job (and hence a salary account). Now I wonder if I also have the chequebook that I’d applied for in the summer of 2008. It must be here somewhere among all the 6 years’ Airtel bills that are still neatly tucked inside their respective envelops. (Just kidding! I switched to an email option three years back, so I only have bills up until June 2010)

I’m starting to believe that every object that is created today, especially those built for the betterment of mankind, is “designed” to serve the purpose only for a short while. After which, it only piles on. This applies to every modern-day gadget / appliance / tool except that VCD player you won as a gift at a game show. And that’s because you never even opened it from the case and packed it off as a gift at the next wedding you were invited to. And besides, you’d already graduated to DVDs by then, hadn't you?

The other exception is probably the 2 GB pendrive you got when you redeemed your Credit Card points for the first time. It still does its job of carrying as a souvenir a virus, at least one each from every single system it’s been plugged into.

 Now let me have a look at all the other things around me that I Once fell for like a ton of bricks when I first lay my eyes on them, but now only compete with me for some precious space in my room. A visiting card book, containing cards of people I'm never going to call again. An organizer with a parker pen neatly placed in a holder, used only once when my name had to be written. A 2009 Calendar featuring Bollywood hotties as shot by Daboo Ratnani. CD Album, carrying freeware CDs that still contain demo versions of Sonic the Hedgehog. An off-white coffee mug, that’s only been used to hold pens that don’t write anymore. 24 issues of GQ magazine, which I subscribed to hoping I’d upgrade my style as I approach the 30s. 36 issues of Time Magazine, which I subscribed to hoping that it would help me sound my age. And a digital weighing scale that needs recalibration every time I add a kilo.

But here’s where you’ll really feel shortchanged. When you are sold the idea of how functional these things are “designed” to be, they seem like something that’d you’d give your arm and leg to own. Like a spare kidney or something.  And for a while, it actually seems like your life actually depends on it. Like it is your only kidney or something. And all hell breaks loose when it suddenly stops working. Like you need a kidney transplant on the pronto or something. But after a while, it only contributes to the junk around you. Just like those empty bottles of alcohol, which might be the real reason why you need a spare kidney or something.

Your mobile phone is a fine example of how unnecessary these luxuries really are. As a device, your phone is actually meant to help you make calls when you are on the move. But surely, that’s not good enough. Today a phone needs to come with a PS3 integrated into it, along with a 52 inch LED screen, a Home Theatre system with surround sound, and if that’s still not enough, the whole of IMDB Top 250 loaded into it. So you never really find the time to use it make one phone call. How could you? (Battery) Life is too short and you have so much to do.  

All of which leads me to believe that thanks to all these - pardon the oxymoron - unnecessary necessities, life has become way too expensive. Which is why if any of these oddities broke one fine day, you feel really broke. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I were ever to live my life again, I’d reside in a distant village that was completely devoid of all these gadgets or luxuries. Yes, really. Okay, maybe I’ll carry just one iPad… and get a good broadband connection…and a functional microwave…oh wait, and a fully automatic washing machine…okay, and a set top box with all the sports channels…and a 52 inch LED TV…and a PS3...Oh and some good B&O speakers...and one e-book reader, with thousands of e-books…and a large refrigerator…and a lazyboy with a beer bottle holder...and a titanium credit card…That should suffice. Or would it?

The Lighter Side Of Smoking

If there's one thing that being a copywriter has taught me, it's this - "Can we see some more options?" I cant possibly imagine how many people have suffered multiple cerebral hemorrhages just thinking up more options for lines as simple as - "Mutual Fund Investments are subject to market risks. Please read the offer letter carefully before investing". I'm sure that was the fate of the guy who first coined the famous Statutory Warning  on cigarette packets. I'm sure coming up with multiple options for the same message proved to be more injurious to his health than the damn cigarettes anyway. Ever wondered what those rejected messages were like? Here goes:

Statutory Warning: Lighting a cigarette on the gas stove can be risky. Please consult experts before attempting such a task

Statuatory Warning: Smoking is injurious to your reputation. Please carry strong mints at all times.

Statuatory Warning: Smoking a cigarette is really cheap. Please tender exact change.

Statuatory Warning: Smoking a cigarette is the best way to blow your money. Please don't bother reading fine print before you invest.

Statuatory Warning: Life sucks anyway. Here's something for you to suck on.

Statuatory Warning: Smoking is legal. Just saying. 

Statuatory Warning: We are not allowed to advertise unless we say this. Just wanted to let you know.

Statuatory Warning: The proceeds from this sale will be utilized for Cancer research

Statutory Warning: Smoking during pregnancy will result in your child turning out to be the next Rahul Gandhi

Statutory Warning: Longer Cigarrettes. Because overcompensation is the only solution.

Statutory Warning: Best recommended for those times when you'll see no other action.

Statutory Warning: Ever wondered what Statutory meant? Brought to you by www.dictionary.com

Date a guy who wants to make Fraandship.

Date a guy who sends you a Fraand request. Because he will always want to take you to the nearest Café Coffee Day, while you are busy trying to be a girl who reads, writes, travels, or does all of the above while also perusing your spambox for mails from your exes, and belting a plate of Biryani.

Date a guy you found on facebook. Date a guy who’s never met you otherwise. Because he will always Like your comments. Even if you could only come up with creative variants of “Awesome”. Like “Osama”.

Find a guy who reads every FB post of yours. You’ll know that because he will always be the first one to leave a smiley as a comment.  He’s the one who types “awww” only because he means it. Do you see that weirdo who nearly choked to death when the oregano seasoning went down his wind pipe when he tried laughing? That’s the man. He usually cannot resist laughing, especially when he reads something LOL-worthy.

He’s the guy who always flashes his latest Micromax A116 Canvas HD while waiting at that coffee shop down your street. If you peek at his mug, the cup is empty. Peek again after a couple of hours, and it’s the same cup, because he’s too engrossed already to know that you’ve been waiting for him to leave so you can take his table. He’s just lost among the Likes and the Shares on his FB Newsfeed. Sit down. He might give you a stare, as most guys who spend every waking our poring on Facebook like to be interrupted by a divine apparition of a living breathing woman. Ask him if he likes his new phone.

Buy him another cup of coffee. He’ll love that. That’ll let him sit at the same table for another couple of hours.

Let him know what you really think of the latest “Keep Calm” meme post on his wall. See if he gets the sarcasm on your latest status message. Understand that if he says he understood “Chillaana hai to ‘India, India’ chillaana. ‘Pak Pak’ to murga bhi karta hai”, he’s saying that just to sound cool. Ask him if he likes the “World’s Most Interesting Man” meme or he would like to be the “World’s Most Interesting Man” meme.

It’s really easy to date a guy who has Rahul Dravid’s picture as his user pic. He could just be your friendly neighbourhood Rahul Roy. Or even that easily forgotten Rahul Mahajan, who was your classmate in school. But one thing he’ll always believe is he’s the Rahul who’ll sweep you off your feet with a well-timed, “Mar gaya Rahul”.

Just tag him on a nice FB post for his birthday. Include him in a generic status message that simply reads “Merry Christmas”, and he’ll assume it’s dedicated to him. Share any 9gag post on his wall, and it’ll make his day. Send him a link of the latest post from ‘I Fucking Love Science’ and he’ll love your fucking intelligence. Understand that he knows the difference between FB and life, but he’ll go out of his way to turn his life into a FB newsfeed. And it’ll never be your fault if he does.

Lie to him. He’ll know that you only did it to maintain your FB reputation. It’s not the end of the world. Okay, his world.

Fail him. Because the guy who updates his FB status every hour knows that not every post will be Liked by his 2038 friends. Because a guy who updates his status knows that there’s always the next FB post. That you can always write another status message that’ll get likes. At least 10 likes. That life is meant to at least have one post or two every day that you’ll be forced to delete.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? The guy who posts some celebrity’s post as his userpic knows that you don’t anything like Deepika Padukone, whose picture you may have used as a userpic.

 If you find a guy who wants to make fraandship, keep him close. When you find him up at 2 AM clutching his smartphone so close to his eyes that it starts watering, make him a cup of tea and hold him. You may lose him for a couple of hours but he will always come back to you. He’ll talk as if the farm he built in Farmville 2 is real, because for a while, it always is.

He will propose by tagging you on a post with a picture of a hot air balloon. Or picture of aging rock star, along with his lyrics. Or very casually next time you are online. Yes, his writing will be on your wall.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your brain hasn’t burst and bled out all over your shoulders yet. You will write the story of your lives through FB status messages. You’ll have kids with strange names belonging to strangers you were stalking together on Facebook. He will introduce your children to Mafia Wars and Criminal Case, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and he will read out the latest Y U No meme under his breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a guy who wants to make fraandship because you deserve it. You deserve a guy who can add colour to your dull Facebook wall. If you plan to ignore his Facebook posts later in life, then you’re better off ignoring his friend request. But if you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a guy who reads every post of yours on Facebook. Twice.

Or better yet, date a guy who always has the last LOL.

Better Than The Best?

Think you are the best in business? I don't know what to tell you, old chap. On second thoughts, I do. You are behind times. Really! Being the best in business is a prehistoric proposition that every enterprise worth its best practices have told you since one man accidentally coined that phrase. The man in question was probably something of a head-hunting hitman from the 30s with a penchant for PR that was at least 73 years ahead of time. From the days when businesses were run in ramshackle warehouses, and when the top management not only wore suits, but also carried Tommy rifles. To be the best in business, you only had to be good enough to kill the man at the top.

Times may have changed, but cliches remain the same. Everybody and their Facebook fans from Timbuktu claims to be the best in business. Even those who have no business to use that phrase. Just check out flipkart.com, search for management books, and count the number of times you hear the words "excellence", "best", "leadership"and "great". Oh and did you also notice that each of the aforementioned words are "bestsellers"? "Seven Habits Of Really Great People, " How To Win Friends And Become Great", " How To Hold On To Great, And Save Your Organisation From Being Reduced To Merely Good", " How To Protect Great With A Secure Payment Gateway So That Chinese Hackers Cannot Steal Your Great Ideas And Come Up With Great Imitations?"

I wonder what all this means. So are we to believe that good is not good enough. Is "good" a word that you'll only use to describe your bowel movement in the morning? Is it because there is no room for good in our lives? Have we transformed into beasts that only demand the best? The kinds who'd tell a certain artist from Venice, " While your work is impressive, you'll have to do something about that smile. The Target Group has no time to ponder over the question of whether it's a half-smile, or half-scowl. And can we please change the name from Mona Lisa to something that strikes a chord with the youth of today. For any product to come alive, it needs to be something that the youth want to be associated with, and whose pictures they'd share on Facebook and Twitter. So please carry out the changes that are suggested. And can you mail me the revised work tonight? I'd like to check it out first thing the morning."

I  believe this "striving for the best" is a creature that has also taken control of our lives, because we seem to settle for nothing less. When we buy a TV, it's the best. When we tune into a sports channel, it's the best. When we fix a match, it's the best...our money can buy.

The case is much stronger when people turn into parents. They only want the best for their child. Best school. Best fast food. Best dentists. Why, parents want the best for their children even before they are born. The minute they hear of pregnancy, expecting mothers stop doing things they normally do, like go to the best bars, drink the best booze, and nurse the best hangovers. Instead, they'd do things that are better, like go to the best restaurants, eat the best chocolates, and play the best word games on their smartphones. The belief being that when they are born, their babies will come fully prepared to take the GRE. But you don't have to take my word for it. Because I can't really call myself the best in business.

IPL 2013 or Jumping Jepang Season 1

After watching Sunrisers Hyderabad make it to the playoff, I was convinced of one thing - IPL is definitely the stuff dreams are made of. Only in the world that has IPL can any team, even those whose catchment area produces nothing more than a bunch of schoolboys who get dismissed for 21 in First-class cricket, get a realistic shot at glory. Only in the world of IPL can a team whose players have already thrown in the towel still end up coming third in a league of nine. Only in the world of IPL can Shah Rukh stretch out his arms in public while Lata Mangeshkar's voice croaks," La la la la la la la la la la ( repeat 37 times for effect)".

We are now so much into this whole sports entertainment thingie, that we cant wait to watch the commercials that will be aired on the 26th May ( Promise! Read this if doubt my love for IPL). So much so that we've been trying to imagine what new surprises are going to unfold in the next week, until May 26th, when Ravi Shastri will hand over the highly ornate and grotesque Indian Premier League trophy to the game of Cricket. Here's our list of predictions:

May 21st: Qualifier 1 is abandoned, owing to an unforeseen traffic jam outside the Indira Gandhi Airport, the team bus is forced to take a U-turn and enter the airport runway to catch the last direct flight to Ranchi, where the match will be replayed the following day, due to the fact that the Eliminator match is scheduled at the Kotla the same day.

May 22nd: Crowd anger forces all four teams to reach Kotla. Confusion ensues as the spectators for both the games end up reaching the stadium. A compromise is reached. Two 8-over matches will be played. The first game will be the qualifier featuring Mumbai and Chennai. The second game featuring Hyderabad and Rajasthan.  The crowd for the first game will be asked to vacate seats immediately for those spectators who had reserved tickets for the 9:45 show...err match.

May 22nd, Match 1: The first match begins and very predictably ... it goes down the wire. There's two runs required of the last ball, Mumbai is 9 wickets down with Pollard facing the inimitable Ravindra Jadeja. In the most expected of anticlimaxes, Ravindra Jadeja bowls a quicker one, which beats Pollard, and he's caught plumb in front of the wicket. The Chennai goes up in unison. The umpire Asnani  says, "Sorry. I sneezed just as Sir Jadeja bowled, so I didn't notice. Third Umpire, help maadi!" The TV replays suggested that Jadeja had clearly overstepped, so it was a no-ball. Then in the most obvious of situations, cameras also detected Pollard quickly kicking the ball away immediately after it hit him on the pad. He's declared out for obstructing the field. It's a tie! The super over fell just short of the wire, when Mumbai score 23 runs for the loss of one wicket, while the Chennai openers remain unbeaten on 12. Mumbai proceed to the finals.

May 22nd, Match 2: For the longest time, it seemed like cricket would be the winner. But once the match eventually started at 1: 30 pm in front of an empty Kotla stadium. the organisers made it more interesting by having a bilateral series of tosses between the two captains. At the end of the 5-match series, Hyderabad beat Rajasthan 4-1, with Cameron White displaying his value to the team by coming back from 1-0 to calling 4 consecutive tosses correctly. "After winning two tosses, we didn't want to lose momentum, so I went for the kill", said a calm White. Hyderabad to play Chennai in the Eliminator.

May 23rd, 2013:  When N Srinivasan calls a press conference, one Sreesanth look-alike suddenly appears out of nowhere and hurls a match box and runs away. Out of nowhere (not where Sree look alike turned up) a Dhoni look-alike dives in front of Srini and saves a certain embarrassment with a smart one handed catch. Out of another nowhere, a Bhajji look-alike shows up infront of the Sree lookalike, and gives him one tight slap. " Throwing matches again, are you?", says the proud Sardar. The Dhoni look-alike gifts the Sree look-alike a single match stick to Sree look-alike saying, " At least you'll see some light in jail." At the end of this staged act, we are assured that this is a Guerrilla campaign for Ship Matches - The Real Match Winner!

May 24th, 2013: Just a few hours before the start of the Qualifier two between Chennai and Hyderabad, the trading end season trading window opens, allowing surviving teams to buy players from eliminated teams. Chennai are quick to buy Watson and Faulkner to add to their list of all-rounders. Mumbai buys out Narine, Gayle and Warner to beef up their team. The owners of Hyderabad are too broke, so Sanga, Parthiv, White, Steyn, Ishant, Mishra and Dhawan go dutch and pick up...Venugopal Rao to boost their batting line up.

May 24th, 2013: Everything goes according to the script when Sunrisers pay a homage to Deccan Chargers (basically the  last year's outfits) by getting mustering up a par score of 119/9 in 20 overs. Everything goes as per script when Chennai require three runs of one ball when Ashish attempts a slower yorker only to trip on his own shoe lace, and letting the ball fly directly to the vacant fine leg region. 7 wides are declared and Chennai proceed to the finals.

May 25th, 2013: The whole nation goes dizzy when they wake up to the news of Farah Khan entering the parliament house and teaching all the ministers what dance step to perform every time a state government falls. The Ministers are seen performing the "Jumping Jepang" in super Slo-mo, with Navjot Singh Sidhu providing expert political commentary. 

May 26, 2013: In a moment worthy of Star Plus Nayi Soch award, N Srinivasan turns the IPL Final into a reality show that will be judged by Anu Mallik, Sanjiv Kapoor and Raghu. The winner is decided by an SMS poll by the audience. After three hours of intense drama, which required Harbhajan to pair up with Farah Khan for an impromptu gig, the audience send in millions of votes, and thanks to thousands of votes coming in from Maharashtra and Gujrat, Urvashi Dholakia is declared the joint winner of IPL Season 6 along with...You're right! Cricket. But then, you saw that coming, didn't you?
 

Dust If You Must

 Just read this fine poem and had to share it here. Cant seem to trace the poet, since it seems to be attributed to many. Whoever wrote this one is surely one fine poet.

Dust if you must.
But wouldn’t it be better,
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed?
Ponder the difference between want and need.

Dust if you must.
But there is not much time
With rivers to swim and mountains to climb!
Music to hear, and books to read,
Friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must.
But the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes,
the wind in your hair,
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come round again.

Dust if you must.
But bear in mind,
Old age will come and it’s not kind.
And when you go, and go you must,
You, yourself, will make more dust.

Snappy Replies at IPL's Post Match Ceremonies

IPL perhaps boasts of everything any bollywood summer blockbuster can ask for - damsels with great faces and greater legs, overweight men indulging in breath taking action (with a little help from stunning camerawork of course), occasional foreign hand or two ruffling some feathers and raking up some controversy,  opposition captains plotting deviously to upset your happy ending, periodic song and dance,  and of course, three hours of watching damsels with great faces and greater legs. Where IPL makes for great entertainment in each of the aforementioned practices, it loses out greatly in one department - dialogue. The problem is match in and match out, the winning captains and losing captains are subjected to the same drill of post match ceremonies. Coming as it is at the end of the match, the anchor is blessed with hindsight that's fueled by Quikr Super Sixer, Super Fours by More supermarket and Fall of Wickets by IRCTC Tickets. the unsuspecting captains however have no such benefit, given that they don't have the luxury of watching Laxman Sivaramakrishnan doing a Jumping Japang Jumpak Jampak with Rameez Raja while playing the game. That makes it an uneven match doesn't it? So to all the participating captains at the IPL, here's a guide to dish out some entertaining stuff at the post match ceremonies:

Question: As a captain, you must have believed that there were enough runs on the board. what happened after that?

Answer: Well, lads and I decided that we've had a long day at work, so watching an episode of Balika Vadhu will help us relax. It didn't work.

Question: But the home team was dealing in boundaries. Is there anything you could have done at that point?

Answer: Yes. I could have retired from the game, suited up, stepped into the commentary box, and tried
crafting a more creative question.

Question: What does a captain do when everything he tries seems to fail?

Answer: The secret lies in never having a shave before a match. It's moments like these when you can indulge in age old practice of gently stroking your 5 'o clock shadow.

Question: What do you tell your team in the face of such a brutal onslaught?

Answer: I ask them if any of them are downloading a Blue-ray rip of Iron Man 3D on their laptops in the dressing room. At the end of the day, I carry my Portable Harddrive to their rooms and extract some new downloads in exchange for some old porn.

Question: Tell us what was running in your mind when you took that sensational catch at long on?

Answer: If I did not pluck the ball out of thin air as you put it, I could picture the team owners chasing me with power tools after the match. So I had to take that catch.

Question: Now how did you take the skier at the boundary?

Answer: You see I was just minding my own business walking around the park when some geezer decided to take the bowler to the cleaners. Now that would have been quite alright under normal circumstances. But I had to interefere when the ball was headed straight for the...cheerleader's face. Call me old fashioned, but there are better ways of attracting the attention of a pretty lady than throwing a 1 KG projectile aimed at her head.

Question: What's the mood like in the dugout?

Answer: Everyone's busy, checking out their laptops and iPads, signing into to facebook and twitter, trying their hand at writing a #SirRavindraJadeja tweet, or RTing the ones that MS Dhoni wrote on his wall. Just another day in office, I guess.

Question: At the end of the day, it must be very difficult for an international cricketer like you to lead an IPL team?

Answer: Not quite. This is just a fantastic annual vacation. Every year I fly down to Hyderabad, and stay at a 5-star deluxe hotel. We get to check out eight other cities over two months. And at the end of each of the 16 matches, we head out to a club and party till the wee hours of the morning. Occasionally, I'm hungover when I have to board a flight, but a strip of Avomin is a small price to pay in exchange for all the partying and travelling and great food and great women and of course the USD 570,000 that I get paid at the end of it. Yea, I could have probably got more, but hey! That's far better than staying back home in Brisbane without a job.

Question: The crowds here seem to love you. Do you have any words for them?

Answer: NO actually I dont. But lets try: Hey people! Thanks for coming in. And dont forget to follow me on twitter. I'm just 53,096 followers short of a million. Peace!

IPL's Shitty Moments of Success

Good Evening, Hyderabad! Are you ready for a Standard Fireworks Sivakasi cracker of a game awaiting you at the Paradise Biryani International Stadium?

At the toss, captain Sanga called Pantene Silky & Shiny heads and it was the Pepsi Right Choice, Baby! He has elected to have a Puma Cricket Gear bat.

At this point of time, all three T.I.M.E Classes 100% Results are possible.

It's important for Royal Challenge Bottle Openers to give the Lodha's home team a Cadburys Shubh Aarambh start to the innings.

All the viewers are Sonata Watching the game thanks to the kind Sahara Group support from our
 Kisna Diamond sponsor Pepsi, our Malabar Gold sponsor Vodafone, and our Yes Bank group of local businesses who agreed to our terms of sponsorship with an affirmative.

A Lays Magic Masala crisp shot to the covers takes the home team to score of 45 for BSE All Profit No Loss. 

The Ghajini Replay clearly tells us the batsman's time at the crease is 7 UP.

The batting seems to be running out of Appy Fizz., and they'll need some Servo Premium fuel to go the Xtra Mile.

After the fall of four Star Plus Kamzor Kadi Kaun wickets, the lower middle order is left to lay a Hathi Cement foundation for final over Channel V Big Hits.

There is no margin for Microsoft Windows error and the bowlers have to maintain their Natraj Geometry Box line and length.

Taking quick Shaadi.com singles is the the Link Locks key to T20 success.

When you take wickets regularly, half your XBOX Halo battle is won.

That's Pulla Reddy Sweetly timed, but it finds the Godrej Safe hands of the man at Ohri's Nautanki Gully.

The American Express Travelers Check bounce seems to have added some Priya Pickle spice to this game.

Lets not take away anything from the bowling side who have put in an Dr Batra's clinical performance and exploited the opposition's Apollo Hospitals injury problems.

The Spice Jet visitors are preparing for what could be a Royal Stag high-spirited chase.

The ball was Mahindra Logan extra-wide, and it was deposited for a Yes Bank Maximum.

The bowler now Fedex delivers a slower ball, which the batsman Gillette Mach 3 edges to the Victoria's Secret first slip.

The game is going down the Havell's wire. Both teams deserve to Play Lotto win.

The Asics long hop was dispatched with the Venky's meat of the bat for a certain boundary. What a Nerolac finish!

At the end of the day, EA Sports Cricket 13 was the winner. This was indeed a great advertisement for the game.




  

You Say Best When You ... Got The Look.

What's the dirtiest look that you have got from people?

Is it the "What have I done to deserve this?" look you get from your mother when you show her your FB status message in response to "how was your day"?

Is it the "Will you please retire that stupid line aready?" look you get from your friends who may have heard you  crack your favourite "Good from far, but far from good" joke the 487th time since college?

Or is it the "How do you always manage to piss off a woman and not get hit on your forehead with both her stilettos?" look that you get from a woman who has just met you, and courteously laughs when you ask her something cliched like, " Are you a celebrity? Because everyone seems to be turning around to have a good look at you?" 

Now just imagine if these looks could become a full blown conversation between the other members of a group who have been subjected to something very inappropriate. Lets just say you are a single man in a group that has husband 1 and wife 1, husband 2 and wife 2, BF 1 and GF 1 and finally BF 2 and GF 2. And in this august company, you choose to unleash your joke # 30 which goes, "I'm no Fred Flintstone, but I sure love to make a bed rock." Here's what is likely to follow in a fraction of a second:

Husband 1 to Husband 2: *Ha! Ha! Ha! Quickly check out how the women react* look

Wife 1 to Wife 2: *I dread to think of the foolish woman who'll marry him* look

GF 1 to GF 2: *No wonder he's still single* look

BF 1 to BF 2: *No wonder he's still to get laid* look

Wife 1 to Husband 1: *This is the last time we invite him home* look

Husband  2 to Wife 2: *Hey! I just met him recently, okay!*look

GF 1 to BF 1: *Please tell me this is not how you behave when I'm not around* look

BF 2 to GF 2: *Chill! He's probably had a drink too many* look

Wife 2 to Wife 1 : *Thank god nobody laughed* look

GF 2 to GF 1: *  Lets pretend not to have heard it and change the subject *

Husband 1, Husband 2, BF 1, BF 2 to each other: * Should we laugh now before it gets worse?* look

You to yourself: *shucks, nobody heard me. Let me just tweet this one* look

 

Mad Man's History Lessons: Timeline 12

Mark Twain once said, "The ink with which history is written is fluid prejudice". The great man could very easily be referring to what's been happening right from the time the first piece of this series was written. However, that may not entirely describe the events of the 70s that we are going to discuss. 

1970 – Mick Jagger is fined 200 pounds by the law authorities for possession of Cannabis. Today, he sets a fine example for law-breakers by a possession of 200 pounds of Cannabis at any given time.

1971 – Sylmar earthquake hits the San Fernando Valley area of California. Following years sees it become the Pornographic Capital of the world. Years later, RHCP could have aptly described the state of San Fernando in the lyrics of Californication –destruction leads to a very rough road, but it also breeds erection – but they didn’t.

1972 – A theft at the Watergate complex resulted in much embarrassment for the US Government with President Nixon forced to resign over threats of impeachment. It also opened a floodgate for the nomenclature of a number of scandals that followed, each of which was suffixed with the word gate.

1973 – A tennis match titled “Battle of the Sexes” saw a 52-year old Sir Bobby Riggs get beaten by the 26-year old Billy Jean King in three straight sets. Riggs proved that while most women refuse to reveal their age, men refuse to behave their age.

1974 – IRA bombs pubs in Birmingham, only after the beer was consumed.

1975 – Cod War breaks out between Britain and Iceland when Iceland extends its fishing rights to 200 miles. Perhaps the only time in history when fishing becomes competitive.

1976 – The world’s longest Pier is destroyed by fire. It’s what they call poetic injustice.

1977 – The first Apple Computer goes on sale. Steve Jobs buys his first of many Black Turtlenecks.

1978 – Arcade games invade retail space with the launch of Space Invaders

1979 – For the first time in history in 1979 a woman Margaret Thatcher is elected Prime minister in the UK. Also for the first time in history, men resort to the English joke of the “Home Ministry” while referring to the missus.

This brings us to the last part of our Timeline series. Partly because the author cannot bring himself to be a part of History of the following years, owing to his own birth in the early 80s. Mostly because too much seems to have happened in his lifetime. This however does not mean the series ends. Quite the contrary! In fact, we’ll now revisit any chapter in history at random, and go into greater depths in our search of historical histrionics. As Calvin( The famous six year old philosopher) puts it, “ History is the fiction we invent to persuade ourselves that events are knowable and that life has order and direction”. So until our next attempt at rewriting history, so long!

We Didn't Start The Spoofing

I've always wanted to write my own version of this Billy Joel song. But thought it's just easier to spoof it.
So sing it to the tune of  We Didn't Start The Fire

When Billy Joel wrote this song, we found it really long,
It was way before our time, with a little sense of rhyme,
As we grew we understood, it was stuff that's really good
A History lesson of his time, a long list with little rhyme

What it really helped us do, was make us believe we can too,
Write a song that's just a list, with the odd rhyme but no twist,
There was one change though, History really had to go,
The topics would only range, from bizarre to very strange 

We didn’t start the spoofing
It was always with us
Since the song had hit us
We didn’t start the spoofing
Oh, we never knew it,
But we want to do it

Now you can write these lyrics too, here's what you got to do
Make a list of things you know, rhyme along as you go,
The song has an easy tune, that you'll sing from July to June,
Sing it till your lungs go dry, and your tonsils start to cry

So make a list of things you like, or a list that'll totally psyche, 
Politics or pop art, even some marketing fart,
Try to be a little clever, change your subject to whatever,
Or like a bunch of nerds, sing something totally absurd 

We didn’t start the spoofing
It was always with us
Since the song had hit us
We didn’t start the spoofing
Oh, we never knew it,
But we want to do it

As addictive as meth, spoofing this is done to death,
But it's fun as you can see, and easy as A, B, C,
If the song runs off course, let it not kill your driving force,
Take it till you go wrong, and close it like any silly song

We didn’t start the spoofing
It was always with us
Since the song had hit us
We didn’t start the spoofing
Oh, we never knew it,
But we want to do it.
 

Class Photograph by Douglas Dunn

We were Elizabethan girls and boys, 
Too young for politics, too old for toys. 
Then Hungary and Suez changed all that, 
Or so it feels in tired old retrospect. 
Nostalgia corrodes the intellect. 
It makes you want to eat your coat and hat.

One foot in childhood, one in adolescence, 
Rock Around the Clock made far more sense 
Even than The Battle of the River Plate – 
Stiff upper lips and Royal Navy dash, 
Its Technicolored brio and panache 
Heroic, gore-less, brilliant, out of date.

Like Ovaltineys in their Start-rite shoes – 
It catches up on you, it really does, 
This looking back, this old class photograph. 
Be-blazered in our uniforms and ties 
(Who he? Who she?) – pensioners in disguise 
As who they were, a pictured epitaph.

Pillar-boxes still red (though not much else is) 
And the scarcely visible orthodoxies 
All still in place, plus global urgency, 
Destructive wars abroad . . . And yet, God bless 
Democracy, dissent, and the NHS 
Which underpins our civic decency.

Mad Man's History Lessons: Timeline 11

It appears the Mad Man's History Lessons have finally found some audience here. So while we were very tempted our class there, we remembered our biggest learning from history, which is it'll be forgotten anyway. We don't remember why we brought this up. Perhaps its Historian's curse - remember what everyone forgets...and forget everything else. So we'll celebrate a full 8.33% increase in the readership of this blog by revisiting the mid 50-s and the 60s.

1956 -  Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser vows to reconquer Palestine. But that's only after he could figure  where it was. Which he never did.

1957 -  Russell Endean becomes the first batsman to be dismissed for having handled the ball in test match cricket. The ignominy hurt him so much, that he never again removed his pelvic guard.

1958 -  Sputnik 1 (launched on October 4, 1957) falls to Earth from its orbit and burns up. It’s renamed Kaputnik.

1959 – Fidel Castro becomes premier of Cuba. He begins writing his memoirs “ Fidel Castor. Or how I learnt to stop shaving and love the beard.”

1960 – CIA Spy Gary Powers’ U2 Plane is shot down by soviet missiles. Many Americans still think it was bad weather that took Powers to Soviet skies.

1961 – 5 African chiefs from United Arab Republic, Morocco, Ghana, Guinea and Mali plan for a NATO-type African organization to ensure common defense. After their first meeting at Casablanca, they can’t resolve the argument as which dialogue was better, “Play it once, Sam. For old times' sake” or Here's looking at you, kid.

1962 – The Beatles are shown the door at several studios, because “Guitars were on their way out”. Last heard, the guitars are still playing, though mostly they are Beatles covers.

1963 – Travel, financial and commercial transactions by United States citizens to Cuba are made illegal by the John F. Kennedy Administration. Cuban Cigars however, still find their way to America.

1964 – President Lyndon Johnson announces War on Poverty, while ordering a pack of fries to go with his Hamburger from McDonalds.

1965 – Cigarette Advertising in Banned on British Television. Advertising Agencies find new ways to improves, by getting their employees to smoke more cigarettes than ever before.

1966 – The new Batman TV Show starring Adam West as Bruce Wayne, is almost a spoof of Batman. Till date, Adam West continues to spoof himself.

1967 – ATM is introduced. Several people throng it, only to realize that you’ll get nothing out of an ATM if you have no money in the bank.

1968 –  British Prime Minister Harold Wilson endorses the 'I'm Backing Britain' campaign for working an additional half hour each day without pay. Workers demand an increase in the duration of Tea Time by half an hour.
1969 – Apollo XI. One small step for man, one giant leap for conspiracy theorists. 

Masterji, Yeh North - South Divide Ek Bilang Choti Kar Do!

So the other day I’m told by a well-meaning South Indian friend that Delhi is a cruel and shallow shithole, run by a bunch of the proverbial canines who are always on the lookout for a quick bite of Hot Dog, where thugs and molesters have a free hand, that too literally. And that’s only on a good day.

   

"That's enough!", I said to myself. It can’t be so bad, can it? If nobody else will try their hand at it, I’ll attempt to patch up this North-South divide. Despite the few pricks I’m likely to encounter along the way, as is the case in any such endeavour. After all, a few pricks are a given when you try to sew up the secular fabric of the country, eh?

Yes. Delhi’s image down South has reached an all-time low. And when we refer to Delhi, we refer to everything north of Bombay, and besides Bengal. With the recent movement of a younger population, and owing to their brash advertisement of where they hail from, Delhi has become the new Punjab. But up there, we probably still remain Madrasis.

They are likely to view us as a bunch of Sambar eating, dhoti wearing, mustache adjusting, BPO accent sporting, Rajnikant fans who have pickles with everything we eat, including chewing gum. While we view them as a bunch of humour-impaired, Fair & Lovely consuming, SUV-driving, Yo Yo Honey Singh style swearing snobs whose biggest accomplishments in life include speaking Hindi without a South Indian accent and making ‘un-fair’ comments on our complexions. De Taali! (Heard that? He said “Thali”. LOLz!)

Unfortunately, when people resort to blind stereotyping, they are usually 100% accurate. Or at least that’s what they’d like to believe. But then, just because we belong to different sides of the Vindhyas, it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? Okay! Fraands if you insist, yaar. After all, we were always united by our irritation of one Cyril Radcliff’s inability to know where to draw a line, no? A fact we’ll remember as long as India and Pakistan play cricket!

History suggests that all this North-South pow-wow began when one Nanduri Ekadri Venkata Ramakrishna Reddy picked up a fight with another South Indian colleague in Amadalavalasa, because the victim never got his name right. (The fight was then referred to as NEVR Reddy Battery by a Times of Vindhya scribe).  Having a desire to live up to his proud family name, Mr. Reddy moved up North and called himself Ram. The change of name and postal address however would hardly help him escape the ignominy that was due to him, once he was labeled a Madrasi.

Many years have passed, and since then, Delhi has witnessed a lot of Southern influence. What with South Delhi, South Block, and even Southern Comfort whiskey. In an act of reciprocation, the North has found its way into the hearts of South Indians. What with Parota(what you call, Parantha), Pakora ( What you call Pakoda), Paneer Butter Masala( What you call Paneer Makhanwala) and the subsequent Delhi Belly( Call it what you like) becoming as much a part of the South Indian diet as Poori( What you call Poodi), Podi(Now you know why we call it Poori), Pickle (After having which, you'll only call for paani) and ulcers.

  

This kind of history cannot be disturbed over petty things like who has hotter summers and who has hotter tempers. Which is why I call upon you, my fellow South Indian friends to bring out your spiciest jar of Avakai Pickle to welcome our brethren from Bhagat Singh Marg, our chums from Chanakya Puri and our pals from Pitampura, and make them feel at home. After all, we all need someone to laugh at, don’t we?