Duhh

All the way from down under jadeeyez showed me :
The Singhs

Neela Vacuum

A neela vacuum cleaner magically appeared at my doorstep a few weeks ago. I first spied it sitting outside my apartment one evening after a days work. I have no idea how it got there. There was much speculation about it between me and Aaromal. I was afraid it was a booby trapped apparatus left outside by a certain ex-girlfriend. I was afraid to even test it out. Aaromal wanted to plug it and then run away while I turned it on.

All the while it continued to sit outside my apartment come rain, snow or shine until this weekend. I was sitting outside reading and drinking beer when my cute upstairs neighbor walked by. I stopped and asked her if she knew anything about this magic vacuum. She said she thought it was mine. I confessed my fears about it being booby trapped. She calmly picked it up and said, "Don't worry, I will throw in the bin for you" and walked away with it. I now really know how Michael Yossarian felt when the new recruits walked away with "The Dead Man in the Tent".

PS: Aaromal must be saying, "Avande uru neela vacuum. Olake de moode."

Ms. Flipflopsinwinter and FabIndia

Ms. Flipflopsinwinter was always full of fun, humor and laughter. I tried in vain to make her feel blue and melancholic. I then prayed to the lower level demon Azazel for a boon to help me in this endeavor. So after 120 straight days of being melancholic, he appeared before and thundered, "Buy her a blue shirt from FabIndia and you will have your wish". He then disappeared in a "puff" of smoke.

On my trip to India last December I purchased this weapon and presented it to Ms. Flipflops with great ceremony. I hoped she would wear it soon and she did. I received an email from her saying the shirt made her blue. I was going to jump in joy when I read something about the dye not washing off. I then realized it had just messed up the rest of her laundry. As I was thinking that I might have to end up buying the evil girl a fresh new wardrobe, she explained that she wore the shirt in the rain and it turned HER blue. Damn you Azazel. I should have listened to my mother who still maintains that FabIndia is overpriced shit meant only for NRIs.

And so it ends...

This is not how he would have wished to leave his mark on the World Cup 2007. But unfortunately this is the image that will be stuck in minds of billions of viewers. Bowled through bat and pad by an young fiery upstart. Hunched down as if the ball had kept low, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar leaves his World Cup career bereft of any magic. Memorable magic on the sport field can happen when the chips are down and the stage is big. SRT consistently failed in such scenarios. Our lives have seen good performances from the little master but they all have been empty of the final victory.

And hence the World Cup 2007 has come to a crashing halt for the Indian cricket team. Hopes of billions have been dashed. And the big three of my generation will leave this game without a WC to their name. I don't know why but it saddens and depresses me. But it does. It really really hurts to see this team bow out of the tournament without even a whimper. At least it did not end with violence and death like it did for the Pakistanis.

The only bright spot in this cup has been the voice of one lone gentleman. With Bangladesh well placed in the chase, his voice softly intoned, "If we can get half the side out for 150, we still have a chance". With Dravid fighting valiantly at the end he prayed, "Dravid must do something to see us home". He did not lose hope until the final ball. And notice the use of the words we and us cause the speaker was not Indian. He was John Geoffrey Wright. Hats off to you my friend. If it is was left to me I would honor you with an Indian citizenship, little as it is worth for I know not how to thank you.

Days of being wild - Part II

Part I

We found ourselves in a large room with rows of tables and chairs. There was a stage at the far end. On the whole it looked like a cross between a restaurant and a hospital dorm. A few people were eating in a corner. There a bunch of beautiful Asian women in identical pink dresses walking around. One of them came towards us and led us to a table. We followed without asking any questions. We were just happy to be away from the Shoes. A menu was placed in front of us. Wenerd instinctively asked for beer and karaoke. Our waitress stared, smiled at us and walked away. This is when I noticed her. She swayed her hips gently when she walked. She was breath taking. “Boss, she is HOT. I think we should just fuck it and eat here. I want to be waited up on by her.”, I told Wenerd. He murmured his agreement. I opened the menu to find it completely in Korean. The only thing in English was the name of the restaurant, Pyongyang Friendship Restaurant. So we were in North Korea!!!

Wenerd hoped that my babe would help us order food. I soon spied her floating towards us with Angkor beer. She placed the glasses in front of us and poured the beer in the strangest fashion. Her arm was ramrod straight and the beer bottle was parallel to the table. The beer gushed into the glass and she stopped pouring when the glass was full. There was right amount of head and not a drop of it overflowed. I then realized that we were in a magical place.

My babe was waiting for us to order. I was thinking about how to propose matrimony to her. Wenerd still wanted karaoke. So there was stillness. After few sips of beer we asked for help with ordering. She had no idea what we were saying. She spoke not our language. At that instant I was completely sure that I was going to marry this goddess.

Thankfully the menu had pictures so we randomly pointed at two tasty looking dishes and ordered them. We then struggled to order rice. To this day we have no idea what we ate. After placing our order I watched those wonderful hips swaying away. I then told Wenerd that I am going to marry this girl. He said, “Put macha put.” But I don’t think he realized how serious I was.

The food soon showed up but my babe did not. She was replaced by another. In their pink outfits they all looked the same. But I could tell the difference. I was outraged. I tried telling her that I won’t eat if I am not served by my babe. She too spoke not our language. Wenerd calmed me down and said we will look for her after eating. I was hungry too so we ate like pigs. The unnamed dishes were very very good.

In the middle of our meal we heard a commotion and soon found the pink waitresses were on the stage. Few were playing instruments and the others were doing this strange dance. We called it the Communist Propaganda Dance. By the time the dancing and singing was over we were done with the food. I got up to look for Her and Wenerd settled the check. I tried talking to the other pink ladies about the One. But not a single one could speak English. I was starting to get pissed. Wenerd came and grabbed me when I was trying to force my way “back stage”. “Boss, I did not think you were this serious”, he said. “I want you to be my best man”, I replied. This is when he started to drag me out. People were looking at us and then those damn Shoes showed up. Wenerd just pulled me towards a door which we hoped was the exit. It was.

We ran out into a real busy well lit street. Wenerd stopped in his tracks.

“Bugger, we are on Tower Road”, he whispered.
“So what”, I said, still pissed off over my near miss matrimony.
“Tower Road is in fucking Singapore”, he moaned.
And then we saw the Singaporean walking towards us…

To be continued…

Days of being wild - Part I

The lights of the TopTown Karaoke shimmered and beckoned. "Let’s put one bugger, before we go", whispered Wenerd. I obeyed him. We allowed the carcinogens infused with wonderful kaya to seep into our conscious. I know not if we were conscious from that point on. We walked towards the building with the blinding lights like knights before a conquest.

We were accosted by a lower level demon outside the place who welcomed us in. We said all we want is Angkor beer and karaoke. "No problem", he said and ushered us in. The first thing I saw was shoes. Lots of them. And they were moving and whispering in Khemer. All of a sudden there was this big fat shoe in front of us leading us up some stairs and right into a room. While climbing the stairs I noticed some terrace farming happening at the end of the hall. They were cultivating shoes. Fucking live ones at that. I was slowly starting to shit bricks.

We kept chanting, "Beer and karaoke", as if that mantra would keep us from harm. We saw a door looming up in front of us. Big Shoe flipped the sign hanging on the door and led us into a room. We continued chanting our mantra. But no one was listening to us. Another shoe trotted in holding a Sudarshana Chakra in her hand. “Bugger, we won’t be able to afford this. The room, the shoes and that damn chakra looks expensive”, whispered Wenerd. He immediately turned to Big Shoe and announced, “We want to piss. Show us the bathroom.” She glared us and led us across the room into a hallway and pointed towards the end. We spied an exit sign right opposite the bathrooms and we made directly for it. But exit it was not. We found ourselves in this maze of rooms with VIP signs. I saw one with VIP No 6 written on it. “Dey, 6 is my lucky number. Let’s go.” I cried. And we went…

To be continued…

Do someone you really love?

Best song lyrics of the month:

Girls who are boys
Who like boys to be girls
Who do boys like theyre girls
Who do girls like theyre boys
Always should be someone you really love

-Blur

Learning English in Smalltown, ndia

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon?

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon!

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon.

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Pardon

Aardon & Pardon went to the garden.
Aardon died.
Who left?

Missing

I am missing something...
I will know what it is when I find it...

The Face on the Waters

The kayak skimmed the crest of the wave, chopping its way through. There was not another human in sight.

Black flowers blossom
Fearless on my breath 1

Large boats shimmered on the horizon. The ocean carried me towards them on the swell of its deep breath.

Water is my eye
Most faithful mirror 1

I was at peace floating on the reflection of the clear blue sky. But this phantasmagoria was missing the dragons on the Other Wind. I turned a page...

1 Teardrop - Liz Fraser

cool baldman

An ex- close friend of an ex-boyfriend of mine was passing through my new town. So we went out to dinner. He likes sushi so I researched and found the best sushi place I was told about. We eventually reached sushi ko at around 10. It is a small restaurant. The waitress was friendly but sleepy and when we asked her if the person sitting at one end of the sushi bar near the bathroom was Andre Agassi. She said yes, he comes here all the time.

He was soft spoken. Waved good bye politely and told the others at the bar that it was nice meeting them, thanked the staff.

my friend was mad that he didnt bring his tennis racket so he could get it autographed.

He looks much smaller live

the sushi was delicious

Martinis at the Keswick

I had bought tickets for the Pink Martini concert many moons ago. I was waiting for some strange person to show up who could be dragged there for company. Low and behold, Ms. Flipflopsinwinter appeared. She seemed strange enough and off we went...

The lead singer of band, China Forbes is hot, gorgeous with a voice that can hypnotise you. To top it off she sings in five different languages and moves with such beauteous grace. Yes, I am in love and black is the color of my true love's hair... But enough about my true love. The rest of the band was amazing too. The cello was indeed the sound of a soul crying. The trumpets made you want to leap out and LIVE. The drums made your heart thump. The songs were funny, soulful, full of joy and melancholic all at the same time. The night all in all was a wonderful cocktail indeed...

Sharing a cigarette

I dont often lend cigarettes, just the same way as I dont lend optimisim. Not out of choice, but somehow I very rarely come across people asking for one. These days, nobody cares. Everyone seems to have their pack or nobody seems to want to ask a stranger. The days of sharing cigarettes are long gone I realise; the days of university.

I often look forward to offering a cigarette to some one wishing to bum one. And I would gladly hand one; helps networking, I figured.

But this other day, I was on the other side of the story. The pack was over and I didnt have the time to pick a new one. I was in a rush to catch the flight. I got through immigration and realised that I did have about 15 minutes before boarding began.

I decided to try my luck at the smoked filled cigarette lounge. There were a few people scattered around the room. I took a seat, carefully surveying as to whom to approach. Who would be the one who would hand me one without any reluctance. I am very careful when it comes to an opportunity to get rejected. So I always measure my steps, read body language and then come to an informed decision on whom to approach. As a result, I have missed out many a promotion, autograph and introductions.

As I finished a 2-minute survey of the far right corner of the room, I heard,

"Would you like a cigarette?"

I knew it was her, I knew it was a Davidhoff but I couldnt believe my eyes.

She was there, in her dark blue suit, with the hair starched & wavy, make-up solidly splayed on and the smile, as knowing as ever.

- Yes, I would like one -

As I wasnt carrying my lighter either, a gold plated lighter gun immediately sprung up and lit the ciggy.

- Its a pleasure to have met you -

"Really. Why is that?"

- Its not often one comes across... someone who has managed to captivate me -

"I have?"

- Yes ma'm, you indeed did -

"Thats strange, I dont think I have ever met you. Am sorry, my memory fails me often".

Not sure if she was taking the piss or it was just her modesty, I smiled.

I assured her that its not her fault.

"Ok, where did you meet me?"

- It was a long time ago ma'm -

"I am waiting.."

I couldnt believe my eyes, really. I normally would pounce upon such surreal moments with full gusto. Today there was nothing.

Through the smoky lounge and beyond the full length windows, I could only hear:

.. Rainsbows and waterfalls run..
In the garden I see
West purple shower bells and tea..
Pretty music I hear
So happy and loud..
Feel sunshine sparkle pink and blue.. *

"You are a strange little fella you know", she said as she stubbed hers out.

"Have a good day" she said and the heels clicked by.











* Shuggie Otis on Strawberry Letter 23

Lost in time

No time for depression
No time for melancholy
Can't sell your soul for peace of mind 1
I wish for happier days

1. Square One by Tom Petty

The Apple, the Pod and I.

Prologue:

Things have been disappearing. And, they disappear, while I am in transit, mysteriously. Oooooooooh.

Take for example my father's glasses, he wore them at my aunt's place which is a block from the sugarcane-juicewalla who is on the end of our block. On his way back home, down the street to the juicewalla and then right turn to go up the slope into the elevator into his 9th floor fancy abode, his glasses disappeared. Kaput.

Ch I

Similarly lost, was my wifey's podie. (Notice that the previous sentence was not in active voice) It destroyed the much needed recent balance my life and I had acquired. A balance that I had dropped when puberty hit me, ten years ago. Finally at 22, not only did I graduate college, I was also comfortable in my politics and my decision to be a liberal in-the-business- of-saving-the-world realist and I had found my balance somewhere in the khaki laptop bag I carried around. I carried it around because, I had many homes in the east coastal united states.

And it was in one of the bright orange pockets of the khaki bag that the podie was placed. And then it disappeared along with my balance. Just like my father's second pair of eyes, the soundtrack to wifey's life was lost. And all I had done, I'd like to clarify, while the balance and podie were busy losing themselves, was go from one home to another and to another in search of a bed and some company.

(What I had done too, however, was left the wifey's company, she didn't want to join, it was my other home not hers. We are separated you see - I sleep on the couch.)

So. My khaki bag left couch, lost black apple and found imbalance and a bed.

Ch II

Following this, I made the mistake of sitting, drunk, in an arena with approximately three thousand nine hundred and ninety nine other mostly-white liberals to indulge in political humor. I sat up high in the arena, problematically, with two pro-israeli, libertarian, nationalistic, american jew friends of mine, with 27 bald heads twinkling on the floor section directly below me.

The situation begs three questions:

1. Why did I count the heads? But Why? The question begs itself, especially because I had just paid two thousand three hundred and thirty one rupees to see a very funny man, be very funny.

2. Why is the national political religious identity of my fellow spectators mentioned and generalized so?

Important digression: Stand up comedians are important cultural commentators in our modern/postmodern world. They assess our reality and point out that it is very funny. It is their job to analyze the world and a very funny man, has superior analytical skills.

Ch III

Answer to question 1: much needed distraction.

This very funny man analyzed his world and made enough money to flee the country once he had a breakdown. He recovered and came back and stood before us to point out to this audience, once again, that weapons of mass destruction were built into our imaginations (or in Saddam's house) to support a singular unaffordable life style.

Its an old joke. WMDs are a joke. As they should be. (WEAPONS of MASS DESTRUCTION. Like the crystals of Krypton to build a continent that will wipe out most of North America!˚)

Three thousand nine hundred and ninety nine people laughed, my two friends included. As they should have. I however, however sadly, sat in passive rage and then, noticed many shiny heads. To distract myself I counted them.

My rage was stupid enough, storming out in rage would have made me look like an idiot who couldn't take a joke. Instead, I pondered my generation's hair loss epidemic.


Answer to question 2: my opinion, my bias (Weapon of mass destructions)

Things were said by my friends: "Israel might bomb Lebanon back to the 70s (ha. ha.) and I'd be more than glad if it did"; "everyone has a right to choose, people should be able to decide whether they want to drink coca-cola, pesticides or no pesticides;"

"America should and has the right to protect its interests."



How could i laugh WITH them about nonexistent Weapons of mass destruction ?

And we laugh. And those who run this country today, signed a Statement of Principles nine years ago:

'Our aim is to remind Americans of these lessons and to draw their consequences for today. Here are four consequences:

• we need to increase defense spending significantly if we are to carry out our global
responsibilities today and modernize our armed forces for the future;

• we need to strengthen our ties to democratic allies and to challenge regimes hostile to our interests and values;

• we need to promote the cause of political and economic freedom abroad;

• we need to accept responsibility for America's unique role in preserving and extending an international order friendly to our security, our prosperity, and our principles.

Such a Reaganite policy of military strength and moral clarity may not be fashionable today. But it is necessary if the United States is to build on the successes of this past century and to ensure our security and our greatness in the next.'*



We need laughter. I need laughter. Reader's digest has proved that laughter is the best medicine. Medicine for?

Imbalance.

So, imbalance is where the personal met the political.

"The difference between the sprout and the bean...It is a twisted string"**

The apple, the pod and I.

And I was done for. This meeting of personal and political imbalance, led me to believe that nothing could ever make me feel better. Not true. But for two days I had a horrible empty sinking feeling and the twisted string in my chest got pulled lower and lower pulling down my vitalorgans.

Epilogue:

If one closes one of their nostrils with their thumb and inhales with the other and then closes the just-inhaled-from nostril with their pinky and exhales with the just-closed-by-thumb nostril one breathes equally.

Equal breathing, my mother just told me, if done 20-30 times a day, brings balance in thought and mind.

I vow to breathe equally. Speaking of which, if you want to be cool you must use nonsensical adverbs. Proof: Scanner Darkly, Gnarls Barkley (not up for argument).

I am moving to the capital of the United States, where personal is unavoidably political. I will be social, entrepreneurially.

Deep breathly.



˚From Superman Returns

*See: http://www.newamericancentury.org/statementofprinciples.htm

** lyrics from Joanna Newsom's The Sprout and the Bean

teamwork

Some of you may have heard of Tenacious D? Among their many great compositions is a song called **** her gently. Me thinks you should all listen to it.

Here is a lyrical fragment:
"And then you say hey I bought you flowers
And then you say wait a minute sally
I think I got somethin in my teeth
Could you get it out for me
That's fuckin teamwork "

You know what I think is Fuckin Teamwork?

BUNTY --> BUNTI --> I-BUNT

hahahaha

did you know

that,

o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera

o minha cachoeira
minha menina
minha flamenga
minha capoeira

o minha mi nina
minha querida
minha Valeria...

o minha maloca
minha larica
minha cachaça
minha cadeia

minha vagabunda
ominha vida
minha membembe
minha ladeira

o minha menina
minha querida
minha Valeria

o minha torcida
minha flamenga
minha cadeia

o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera

minha vagabunda
minha mambembe
minha beleza
minha capoeira
o minha menina
minha querida
minha Valeria...

minha torcida
minha flamenga
minha cadeia
o minha maconha
minha torcida
minha querida
minha galera...









actually meant,

oh my marijuana
my fellow football fans
my darling
my people

my waterfall
my girl
my flamenga
my capoeira
my girl
my darling
my Valeria...

oh my shack
my hunger
my rum
my jail

my tramp
oh my life
my mambembe
oh my steep path
oh my girl
my darling
my Valeria

my football fans
my flamenga
my jail
my grass
my fellow football fans

my darling
my tramp
my mambembe
my beauty
my capoeira...

oh my girl
my darling
my Valeria...
my fellow football friends
my flamenga
my jail

oh my grass
my fellow football friends
my darling
my people








----------------------------

Well i dint

What does Rama Rama look like?

Courtesy of Websites as graphs. I wonder if it means anything...

I am free falling...

I always thought that Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker's "Pack up the plantation" was one of the best live albums ever. I think that now needs to be replaced with the concert that took place last night at the Tweeter center in Camden, NJ. It can be released under the title, "Unpack the plantation".

The band played to a packed record breaking crowd. Never before have so many people been fit into the center and never before has so much noise been made. You could hardly hear Tom sing in many of the songs because the crowd took over.

The opening band was the Allman Brothers and they did a brilliant job too. They belted out "Layla" which in my opinion sounded better than Clapton's version :-) They also played "Highway 61" with the Heartbreakers and the jam with Mike Campbell sure did take my breath away.

Tom Petty finally showed up around 9pm. It was quite eerie that they opened the concert with "Listen to your heart", which has been my shower song for the last few days. It got even stranger. I usually go to a concert hoping that the band will play one of their obscure numbers which happen to be a favorite of mine. It usually never happens. So when Tom said he was going to play a number from his "Echos" album, I still did not think they would play "Good to be king". But low and behold they did and sweetened it with an extended lead in the end.

Tom also played "Not Alone Anymore" from his Traveling Wilbury days followed by "Learning to Fly". It sure made me think of wenerd who introduced me to Petty. So thank you, my dear friend, it is indeed good to be king even if only for a couple of hours... I just wished I had met those two gunslingers too on King's Highway.

Am afraid she is not the best actoress around

nevertheless, ..