Theatrical Antics

I kept thinking this past week, what do I write about? I didn't want to write my usual stuff, interconnecting nonsense which ends up making no sense at all. So I thought, what is the one thing which I have experienced enough to write a whole post about. It took me a lot of effort, thinking about one thing. Wait, do you know why I jump from one topic to another so fast that you start thinking what the hell is she blabbering about? I think its ADD, do you have any other opinion? Tell me, I'll listen, but do it fast.

Anyway, before I forget I'll tell you what I want to write about. Its about a theatre. This particular theatre, seductively called "Urvashi", situated in the saddest neighbourhood in central Bangalore has been my second home from god knows when. It is my favorite theatre. Mostly because it is the one of the last ones to sell tickets at the price of multiplex popcorn and it also has the forgotten "Gandhi class" which sells tickets at the price of the same multiplex's parking. Sweet deal, isn't it?

The earliest memory I have of this place is when my parents had taken me there to watch a Mani Rathnam movie called "Iruvar", it was a tamil movie. Let me explain to you the atrocity of this situation. Firstly, I was in the 3rd or 4th standard, secondly, It was a bloody complicated movie! and thirdly, it was in Tamil. Here I was, a confused little soul struggling with Kannada, telugu, english and damn Hindi (This language I learnt only due to peer pressure!), and now my parents were torturing me with Tamil. I was like, "Are they f**** kidding me?" Of course,I didn't know the f word then, you can substitute it with the appropriate kid vocabulary.

Anyway, I'm going off track again. So they took me to watch this movie, it was very confusing, like I said a hundred times before. Finally, the moment I always waited for back then came, it was the "Interval". I had a  mantra, the moment the lights went on, I'd look at my dad and scream, "I want pepsi and popcorn", doesn't matter he'd already wasted money on the ticket for this dumb kid who couldn't make sense of the movie, now he has to pay for junk food too. I'm never taking my kids to the movies. Again, going off track, somebody come, slap me and make me stick to the story. So, where was I? Yes, the interval. As we were waiting for my dad to get the afore mentioned junk, my mom unfortunately met a friend of hers in the seat next to mine. They exchanged the usual unnecessary hi-hello pleasentries, and started discussing about the movie.

I suddenly said, "Why is the hero raping so many women?"

Can you imagine a mom's reaction when her 10 year old daughter says this in front of her friend? Enough said.

Poor thing, she was so embarrassed. No one spoke after that. Strangely, I kept my mouth shut too. Very few things in life have had that effect on me.
This theatre has also acted as my language school, Thanks to my Dad's undying love for Tamil cinema, I can now speak decent tamil. I can imagine some of my friends scoffing at this sentence, I choose to ignore them

Years and millions of movies later, one day, as usual I was in front of Urvashi again. This time with my friends, and this time for a horror movie. Let me tell you, I have never ever watched a horror movie in my life, I'm shit scared. So "Bhooth" released, and I thought "Okay, let me give it a try". So, off we went and for the first time in our collective lives, we grudgingly bought a Balcony ticket, My friend lamely justified, "Horror Movie Kane, effects irathe, Gandhi class alli baralla". Who can argue with so sensible a sentence? we bought the tickets. The theatre was eerily empty. Strange, I thought as I entered. We sat in the top most row, eagerly awaiting to be awestruck by RGV's assault on our brains. An ad for another movie started playing, it was an English movie, had all sorts of weird, absurdly colored people doing some insane things, I turned to my friend and said, "Will you ever watch such a sickening movie?", She made a pukish face. So, this ad kept on playing way too long for our comfort. Hello, I had come here to see Urmila and her now-famous Bhooth and these people were playing some nonsense. It went on and on, long enough for me to rise up and ask the lone teenage boy who was sitting in our row, "Why are they playing this movie? We are supposed to be watch Bhooth right?" Without lifting his face from the screen, He said, "No, this is X-men 2". We went running back to the ticket counter, and then saw a small board in a stupid corner proclaiming "Morning Show- X Men 2, Daily Show- Bhooth". We tried to sell the tickets back to the counter guy, please don't guess what happened with that. We sat eating popcorn for the next two hours. (All X-men fans, I can see your eyes popping out)

That was the last day we bought balcony tickets in that theatre, We decided it was cursed.

A few years later, fate brought us again together. Me and Urvashi, that is. My engineering college was two roads away from the theatre. I think I have watched every stupid movie that released in the damn place, Hey baby, Delhi 6, Hello, Tara rum pum, and other unmentionables.

But my best experience in that place, I have saved it for last.

Hold your breath, this is the theatre where I watched two masterpieces of Hindi Cinema, back to back, one after the other, same day. Do you know why I'm stressing on the phrase, "Back to Back" so much?

Because the classics were, Saawariya and Om Shanti Om!


How did I not go psycho after that? Oh wait, I was one even before watching those movies.

PS: I can stick to one topic :)

Of Enlightenment, monkeys and lecturers

So I stayed away from the internet for some three days now thinking that I'll get enlightened if I stayed away from vices. You may wonder what I do at work without internet. Before you go and do a "Readers dont digest" column on my blog, let me tell you firstly, it is possible for me to spend atleast 9 hrs without internet. Yes, it is. Come, I'll prove it to you and secondly, for me internet means facebook and blogger.

I did not get enlightened. It reminded me of another time when I was cheated by God. It was in 2008. I had gone to Kanyakumari and I saw a rock pathway that led into the sea. It was long and seemed like a perfectly good place for attaining enlightenment.Its a much more aesthetic competitor to the peepal tree. I mean, its a peepal tree for god's sake, not even a banyan tree. Apparently, God doesn't think so. I woke up at 7 in the morning WHILE I was on vacation, went down a smelly settlement of fishermen , and walked on the pathway with the wind blowing in my face till I reached the edge. I thought this was it, I'll come back a different person, much wiser, worldly and maybe next big saint material. I was in the same feeling the whole afternoon, that is until a monkey reminded me of my place in Saintdom. I was walking with a bag of kadlepoori in my hand, and somebody was snatching it from behind. I pulled it back, thinking it was my brother, and that somebody pulled it harder. I turned back to see that it was a bloody monkey! All hell broke loose, or rather I broke loose and ran away like crazy. Hmmm, so much for enlightenment.

Speaking of monkeys, I have always had a strange relationship with monkeys. When I was five, we used to stay on the first floor, and my door opened to a fleet of stairs. These stairs had a compound wall, obviously. So this monkey comes and sits on the compound wall, and being an advanced progeny, I had to do something. I got my granny's stick and tried to poke the monkey with it. I do not remember what happened in the next few seconds, all I can guess is that the ape didn't react kindly to it and I fell rolling down the stairs. Imagine Renuka Shahane in Hum aapke hain kaun rolling down the stairs, exactly like that, this was a miniature version, because unlike her I did not prematurely die and cause the first movie in history of ridiculous hindi cinema which had two intervals to come close to an end.

I can never forget these monkey incidents. In a way, they have shaped my life. How? I don't like monkeys anymore and may have influenced my choice of a cat as my imaginary pet, even though I loathe cats. How did monkeys influence this choice? Neither am I an evolutionary biology student or a lecturer to answer this question. If you are one, I mean a student, I wouldn't recommend you to ask your lecturer. Lets be honest, have they ever answered any question till now? Just let them be.

My parents always keep bugging me, "Why don't you become a lecturer? It such an aaraam job". Yes it is an aaraam job, but being an engineering college lecturer is worse than being Himesh Reshammiya in Himesh Reshammiya's movies. Can you imagine how bad it can be? I'll explain it to you, there can be two scenarios, you either became a lecturer because you are really interested in teaching OR you became one because you passed college after the maximum number of attempts and didn't get a job, hence you are here. Lets stick to the realistic reason, so you are here, you don't know anything, you act strict and yet, some A class nerds will definitely find you and suck on your blood with fourier transforms, planck's constants and all that donkey shit which you'd ignored royally till now. And about the unrealistic phenomenon where you are actually a genius and take pains to prepare for each and every class, the students piss you off by engaging in rocket throwing games. And my parents ask me, "Why don't you become a lecturer? It such an aaraam job". I don't know what to tell them.

Do you think I should be a lecturer? :)

Of Facials, supermarkets and the clown

The first time I heard the word "facial" was in 8th standard. It was my cousin's wedding and all of us had gone to Hassan, a town near Bangalore. I can tell you the exact distance if you want, but unfortunately this post is neither about that, nor am I interested. Anyway, it was my cousin's wedding and he (yes, he) was forced by all the aunty-party that had gathered, to get a facial so that firstly, his face will glow like Gold or diamond, depending on the influential power of the parlour aunty and how mental the impending wedding had made him, and secondly, it will become soft like a baby's bum. So, off he went, with full excitement, for his first facial and probably his last.

One hour passed. Another went by.

We were waiting in the hall, hoping that our averagely average cousin will turn into Shahrukh Khan miraculously. Then another hour passed, and he came. Nothing had happened. Nothing.

We enquired, "Eno, heng hodyo hange bandidya" (What dude! However you went, same way you came back).

He told us that the parlour aunty told him that it would take three days for the glow to be seen.

For all the people who are wondering why my cousin went to an aunty's parlour. let me clarify that the aunty was our family friend and now that I think about it, I can call her a pioneer in the field of unisex salons in small Karnataka towns. My cousin was her first customer, a pioneer in his own way.

Three days passed, the wedding finished, it was too hot to care, and no one remembered about the facial or the glow.

As we say in this side of the country, "Dhod Topi", can be roughly translated into "Big hat", which means she ripped him off royally. I'll use it in a sentence for you.

Ramesh went to that new mall to buy shoes, Macha, He paid 500 bucks for some dabba shirt, Dhod Topi Hakskonda. (Big Hat, they put on his head)

The origin of the phrase can be traced back to the advent of clowns of Gemini Circus in Bangalore. They wore big hats. And inspired the future generations with an indispensable name. Even now, I know a person who gets Dhod Topi on her head every time she heads out. Guess who? It is yours truly. The biggest hat that can ever be, can be easily put on my small head. And I'll gladly shell out how much ever you ask me, and in fact more if you smile a few times and say good things about me.

I realised this horrible fact when I went out to buy clothes long long ago, may be five years ago. It was a new shop in my neighbourhood and I walked in to see if there's anything nice. The stuff was ordinary, but the prices, over the bloody top. But Alas! The shop was run by an insanely cute fellow, and I ended up paying double for clothes so weird that I haven't worn them till date. I swear one of the shirts was torn the day I got them home.

Dhod Topi!

I thought it was a  one time thing and it'll never happen again. Then, you know what happened? Around the same time, supermarkets started popping up in every road. They just killed me. I had to go in, the colours, the food, the flyers describing all the amazing stuff inside, they just beckoned to me. Every time I passed a supermarket, my mind would go,

Paanch rupai ka maggi lao, paanch rupai ka maggi khao subah shaam do pahar me khao maggi maggi maggi, Pepsi, yeh dil maange more, thandoorusti ka raksha karti hai lifebouy, lifebuoy he jahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

Thats it. I'd stop my bike, go in and go crazy.

"Hmmm, maggi..No let me try Top Ramen this time, there's a new flavour. No, but I want maggi..Okay let me take both"

"Who wants lifebouy? I'll buy dove"

This would go on for hours and hours together. This addiction is still going strong.

The feeling of taking your own trolley, picking up your favorite things from the millions of brands available, reading the labels, and comparing things for hours together, the way my hand trembles when I pick up a new product, coming back home with a big cover, ripping up all junk and the food tasting session that ensues..Aaah.. How can I give it up?

I don't even cook, but I want every cake mix there, I still force my mom to buy all new products and cook something exciting. She is selectively deaf, so unfortunately she keeps us selectively starved.

But the craziest I have gone is when I went clothes shopping in Bombay. By the end of one day, I looked like a Dhobi carrying the whole neighbourhood's entire week load. Super Dhobi, I was!

The clothes seemed all cool and funky there, but when I came back and showed it off to my family, they started rofl-ing.

All I could think of was the clown and his big hat.

And this time, I literally looked like him and got ripped off. A first. Maybe I'm a pioneer too.

Somebody, please remove this hat and put it on their head. I'm done with it.

How the dumbass got hitched, went mad and ran away

When enlightened Managers used to speak about the phenomenon "Paradigm Shift" in every meeting that happened in every nook and corner of the office, and at the drop of every tag (you see, no hats allowed in office), I used to wonder what the hell were they gassing about. But now suddenly its all very clear to me. You see, the most complex theories in life are understood by applying them to our daily lives. So essentially "Paradigm shift" is the exact 180 degree shift that happens in a girl's parents once she completes her graduation. Didn't get my point?

Okay dimwit (I'm sure you are a guy!) , Here's the explanation in the form of a precious story:

Till the girl is in college, parents force her to study, as though she's missing a chance at being the next Sonia Gandhi, even though, thanks to Subramanian Swamy (Thanks to Vishal for pointing out that I'm indeed a dimwit) we all know she herself isn't a graduate. Anyway, thats not my point, they act as if the sky is going to fall on her head if she doesn't study. But once her graduation is done, and she starts thinking, "My wonderful parents, they supported me so much. Let me study further. Let me go abroad and do my Masters. Oh! They are going to be so proud".

With a hope in her heart, and specs in her eyes (Yes, she studied too much), she runs home. She tells her dad,
"Daddy, I have decided to go Mashshashoeshetts Institute of Technology to do MS in Information crappology. I'd rather clean their shit wherever they poop than helping them do it long distance. There are two advantages, One, I'll earn in dollars and two, I don't like to waste money on ISD and three, I'll make you and mummy proud"

So Daddy Darling says,

"I have two problems in your proposition. Number one, you said two advantages and mentioned three, and Number two, you are not going anywhere. You'll sit here and marry the guy we ask you to."

So, the girl, dumbass that she is, is confused to the core.
"Are these the same parents that sent me to hundred tuitions when I couldn't clear English in 9th standard? Are these the same parents that bribed my teacher to give me a passing mark in Social science!!"

You foolish girl. Its called "Paradigm Shift", Deal with it!

So,the shift has started. It leads to another phenomenon called the "Technological drift". Girl starts drifting away from the parents and parents start drifting towards the computer, whose existence till that point of time mattered to them as much as the existence of a red-assed baboon in Mysore zoo mattered to the girl. Now, they want to know how that Babbage guy came up with "C" and whats up with "C++", he could've as well called it "E" and shit like that.

"Idiot!", the Daddy says as he clumsily types google into the google search bar and asks the girl how "Bharatmatrimony.com" can be contacted.

Girl pulls her remaining hair out, the strands that remain after the tortorous brainwashing that she undergoes in her long-distance poop-picking up corporation.

So, the Mummy-Daddy catch hold of the sibling, usually younger, frequently bullied upon, and generally of the opposite sex, who is waiting for a chance to relinquish all the past sins of the semi-devilish sister. The sibling grabs his choice and gives the best tutorial they can buy from a gangly 19 year old who has no better work to do than watch one thousand movies a day, on the laptop of the same sister he is currently backstabbing.

Now, suddenly Mummy-Daddy are overnight tech geniuses, googling, filtering and choosing carefully from a million mad males online.

Next comes "The Tipping point". Mummy Daddy shortlist guy, bring him home and with the broadest of broad minds, they say,

"Feel free children, go into this room and talk"

So girl and guy settle in the nearest room.

Guy blushes, he lifts his head slowly and meets the girls eyes. With all the might that he can conjure, he asks the most important question.

"What are your hobbies?"

Girl lifts her head (Imagine Ekta Kapoor's serial, with full effect, she lifts it five times)

That's the extent of their talks. Based on this irreplaceable and impeccable question, the Mummy-Daddy decide that this boy is the one. (In real life, multiply this step "The tipping point" by thirty to get the exact extent of the nonsense)

They get them married and they live happily ever after.

The parents, I mean.

The boy and girl? Who cares about them anyway?

In case, you want to know what happened to them, read the title. It may give you an idea.

Moral of the story: Don't discuss your story with me, it may end up on my blog.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any girl who's reaching 25, works in the corporate world, has an extended family with many "well-wishers" and is still single, is purely incidental.

ನಾನು, ನನ್ನ ಕನ್ನಡ

Get tortured in two languages, that can be the motto of my Blog!

Welcome to my Kannada blog:

ನಾನು, ನನ್ನ ಕನ್ನಡ

If you can read Kannada, feel free to insult or appreciate (Ahem!), but do read :)

Of Yeddy, Hosey and Work life Balance

How many days does a normal year have?

365 days right? So a leap year has one day more, 366 days. Is it my fault that one extra day is there in this year? No right?, So why should I be punished with one extra day's work? Ask yourself this question. I think we should all write an appeal to our Govt asking for Feb 29th off every leap year, what do you think? Its logical right? Think about it, if you are sane enough to understand my argument, write to me, Lets do something about it.

My days are pretty boring. I have absolutely nothing to write about. Unexciting, uninspiring, super boring days I'm having. I'm sure you must be in the same boat too; else why else would you read this nonsensical blabbing of mine?

Anyway, I now have work, work in double quotes. Yes, I just wrote double quotes instead of putting the word in double quotes, will you sue me for it? Do it. I need some publicity. Yeddy does crazy stuff for publicity, why shouldn't I? Latest is, He's feeding blind kids with a knife. See the picture on the right. Ask him why? He says its because he was a super samurai in his previous life and he used to fight with swords, but in this life, he's a politician so he's to remain austere. That’s why being a genius that he is, he eats and feeds others with knives. Who knows, someday he may end up being a rodeo clown who swallows knives. Good career choice, I'd say.

Speaking of Rodeo clowns, I want to know if that MTV Veejay Jose, who calls himself Hosey, has apparently been kidnapped. I'm too lazy and disinterested to find out if it’s true or if it’s some publicity strategy of MTV. Why doesn't someone kidnap that dabba fellow Raghu instead and bash him up nicely. Somebody should put that Raghu through a Roadies type audition and ask him who the CM of Karnataka is. I'm sure he'll not know the answer, I mean it’s a tricky question right, I think even the CM, whoever he is, is scared of proclaiming his position, its akin to gone in sixty seconds. And when he, i.e Raghu fails to answer, which he will, kick his ass. Too much drama he does.Btw, I watched a spoof of Roadies on youtube. Too good guys!

I'm writing this in office. I have nothing to do, I mean I have work *in double quotes*, but you understand what I'm saying right? I have work, but still I have enough time to take four tea breaks, even though I never ever drink tea, one lunch break and one walk break. These breaks make up three fourths of my day. Stressful, I tell you.

Some enlightened people ask me to "ask for more work". Thank you for the advice. Maybe, I'll even ask if I can organise sessions on team building and work-life balance.

Work life balance. Hmmm..Funny phrase, isn't it? Does that mean when we are "working" we are not "living"? 

So according to me, here's how Work Life Balance is worked out,

Number of ungodly hours you are putting at work =Not living = Dying

and the remaining measly hours you are living=sleeping.

 So the conclusion is we are dying when we are working and living when we are sleeping. Amazing hypothesis, isn't it?

I call it "The Corporate Catch 22 Theorem".

Next time someone asks you what are you doing online at godforsaken hours, say, "I'm dying with work", but wait, you already do that, don't you?

Today I feel like a proud engineer. After four years of deriving theorems and constants, I have come up with my own hypothesis. Anyone who has a problem with my hypothesis, suck on it. I didn't come up with the phrase, your Manager or his manager or his jobless Manager did. Go and have a discussion with him.

I wrote this is office and I’m posting it from home. I’m damn sleepy. I think I need to “live” a little now.

Here’s to life!