heres one poster done, meant to spread the message of freedom...for birds....
pass it on to ppl u knoiw who keep pet birds....
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Another page...another day....another moment....
My day started with a bang, in the truest sense. When my bike tyre blasted. Chalo, maybe today a cabbie will be 500 bucks richer, thru me, although not altruistically, I thought.
As usual, another exciting day ahead, and I got into the cab. A well-groomed sardar at the wheels, and I dug into my dose of rape, crime, the latest score in Iraq(no, they don’t play cricket, I’m talking bout the daily killings). Strange, that so many matches are going on in that arena, it’s America v/s Iraq, Sunni’s v/s Shias, America v/s Shias and Sunnis United, And so on and so forth( not to mention the matches in Afghanistan and other parts of the world.
Let’s start with news bytes of the day:
A girl selling goodluck charms ( lemon and chillies tied together as a means to ward off evil) is raped in Priyadarshini Park, Mumbai. Poor thing, I guess the guy was more interested in her charms rather.
Doctors at Calcutta medical college accused of raping a woman, who later died. There’s more. Ward boys rape a mentally retarded girl in Meerut. And what is definitely the grand prix news of all, is as we all know: Doctors blamed of terrorist attack in UK. Phew…anything more coming, Doctors??
Talk about drinking, and I got hiccups about 2 pieces of news. TimesNow, carried the news of a DIG being accused of molesting an IAS. Read between the lines here, and you will smell more. And then, there was news about Alistair Pereira, Mumbai’s poor little rich boy who mowed down some 6 to 7 people in a case of drunken driving. Guess what, now he says, that those crushed creatures ooops people were sleeping on the road, and not on the footpath. My dear Alistair, no one needs to be an Alistair McLean to decipher the mystery of your wise comment, for, when drunk, man can rarely make out the difference between a zebra and a zebra crossing. Anyways, we understand your slip of tongue.
Roads(or whatever it is called, in Mumbai) reminds me of a lovely cartoon I had seen as a child. Dabooji, the famous character was walking on the beach with his son. Son asks “ Papa, how do they make nets? Calmly, Dabooji answered “ First they collect all the holes, and then, they sew them together”
Guess, Bombay Municipal Corporation has the same explanation when it comes to the road conditions in Mumbai.
And finally, (it’s just 4.56 pm) when I’m writing this, and a lot of hours left in the day. Yet, this is a nicew way to end: Saw this driver of a mobile cardiac unit, smoking his way to glory on the highway.
As usual, another exciting day ahead, and I got into the cab. A well-groomed sardar at the wheels, and I dug into my dose of rape, crime, the latest score in Iraq(no, they don’t play cricket, I’m talking bout the daily killings). Strange, that so many matches are going on in that arena, it’s America v/s Iraq, Sunni’s v/s Shias, America v/s Shias and Sunnis United, And so on and so forth( not to mention the matches in Afghanistan and other parts of the world.
Let’s start with news bytes of the day:
A girl selling goodluck charms ( lemon and chillies tied together as a means to ward off evil) is raped in Priyadarshini Park, Mumbai. Poor thing, I guess the guy was more interested in her charms rather.
Doctors at Calcutta medical college accused of raping a woman, who later died. There’s more. Ward boys rape a mentally retarded girl in Meerut. And what is definitely the grand prix news of all, is as we all know: Doctors blamed of terrorist attack in UK. Phew…anything more coming, Doctors??
Talk about drinking, and I got hiccups about 2 pieces of news. TimesNow, carried the news of a DIG being accused of molesting an IAS. Read between the lines here, and you will smell more. And then, there was news about Alistair Pereira, Mumbai’s poor little rich boy who mowed down some 6 to 7 people in a case of drunken driving. Guess what, now he says, that those crushed creatures ooops people were sleeping on the road, and not on the footpath. My dear Alistair, no one needs to be an Alistair McLean to decipher the mystery of your wise comment, for, when drunk, man can rarely make out the difference between a zebra and a zebra crossing. Anyways, we understand your slip of tongue.
Roads(or whatever it is called, in Mumbai) reminds me of a lovely cartoon I had seen as a child. Dabooji, the famous character was walking on the beach with his son. Son asks “ Papa, how do they make nets? Calmly, Dabooji answered “ First they collect all the holes, and then, they sew them together”
Guess, Bombay Municipal Corporation has the same explanation when it comes to the road conditions in Mumbai.
And finally, (it’s just 4.56 pm) when I’m writing this, and a lot of hours left in the day. Yet, this is a nicew way to end: Saw this driver of a mobile cardiac unit, smoking his way to glory on the highway.
Excerpts from my daily diary
SEEN. HEARD. READ. OBSERVED. WONDERED.
Well its another lovely day, and ask me how handicapped I feel, when I don’t have my bike. “Taxi”, I called out. And next moment I was on my way to office. Damn, I’m gonna be late again today…I said to myself.
Newshound that I am, I opened the first newspaper.
And before I could read the first headline, I stopped at a traffic signal, where there was this charming street girl selling roses. Without a moments delay, I called her and picked up a bunch of red roses and paid her off. Cut back to me, sitting in the cab, hitting the first headline of the day- RED MOSQUE ( Lal Masjid) operation successful. Ghazi killed. The report continued, quoting an eye witness. That there was blood all around, lots of dead bodies..ooops…I glanced at the bunch of red roses on the seat. Red- it’s the colour of love as much as it is of hate. Wish reality could also be so rosy red. But then, that would be called “ Wonderland” isn’t it? Ran a few pages more inside, and reading the last interview of late Apar Singh Bajwa, who was, the then DSP of Amristsar, when operation Bluestar was carried out. Sounds so similar when today it’s Lal Masjid in the news, where radical extremists have taken control of a religious place. Re-cap to the time when the Golden Temple was annexed by Bhindrawale and his maniac bunch. And even that operation ended in red.
Well, let’s talk bout roses now. I wonder what Rose, a 14 year old girl, from Calcutta, might be doing. Rose was a maid in my society and was a victim of major abuse, violence and torture while she was in the clutches of her cruel employers. After a women’s organization was informed, she was rescued. She survived the ordeal and though her bones were battered, but not her soul. Bones, did I hear? My parents wanted me to be a Bone Specialist, but what I became was a funny bone specialist, Huh. As we all know, today, is 11th July, the first anniversary???) of the Mumbai Train Blasts. And how strange, that Mumbai Police thinks that terrorists will/may strike on this very same day. Arre CP Sir, even terrorists have an I.Q. Why should they attack on a day when security is supposed to be the tightest.
Saw this picture of a sniffer dog conducting checks at nthe railway station. Here’s how the conversation goes between the 2 sniffer dogs of Mumbai Police:
Dog 1: Arre boss, kuch mila kya.
Dog 2: Nahi yaar, yeh Mumbai police bhi na, khali peeli bahut kaam kara tein hai. Arre yaar, everyday I have to work 14 hours a day.
Dog 1: Man, guess what, I’m having such a bad nose and a sore throat now. I’m planing to take part in a Himeshbhai voice contest.
Dog 2: Wish there was a bomb threat at Mallika Sherawat’s house. Atleast bomb nahi, toh sex bomb toh dekhne ko milega.
Dog 1: Chalo, I hope your wish is fulfilled. Every dog has its day hahahah.
Headlines are funny stuff these days. Sample this: HT says 24 cops slaughtered by Maoists. DNA says 20 Maoists killed, and 27 cops missing. Now, what’s missing in both, is the real fact, right? Or so it seems. I tend to go on to serious topics more often but then blame it on Newspapers, ok? Ask them why they carry news items that are mostly serious. Or else why should I write about cops and Maoists being killed like flies.
And flies bring me to another item. I mean news item. A study says that Bird flu can spread through houseflies also. Gosh, how are we going to cull all those flies now, just as all the birds were culled during the last scare. Think, think think. Write in with your answer…early bird( !) wins a surprise gift.
A few more tit-bits.
Headline: Pawar kills several birds with one stone.
My line: Sir, instead, could you please spare a thought for a bird sanctuary?
Headline: Mayawati orders the razing of a stadium for a Kanshiram Memorial.
My line: Thank god, the vigilant citizens and players were more athletic than her, and managed to run to the judge’s home at 1.15 in the night to get a stay order.
Having a beer. And I read this news. 76mn in the world suffer from alchohol related disorders. Reminds me of a line I read sometime back. When I read the ill-effects of drinking, I stopped. Reading.
Well its another lovely day, and ask me how handicapped I feel, when I don’t have my bike. “Taxi”, I called out. And next moment I was on my way to office. Damn, I’m gonna be late again today…I said to myself.
Newshound that I am, I opened the first newspaper.
And before I could read the first headline, I stopped at a traffic signal, where there was this charming street girl selling roses. Without a moments delay, I called her and picked up a bunch of red roses and paid her off. Cut back to me, sitting in the cab, hitting the first headline of the day- RED MOSQUE ( Lal Masjid) operation successful. Ghazi killed. The report continued, quoting an eye witness. That there was blood all around, lots of dead bodies..ooops…I glanced at the bunch of red roses on the seat. Red- it’s the colour of love as much as it is of hate. Wish reality could also be so rosy red. But then, that would be called “ Wonderland” isn’t it? Ran a few pages more inside, and reading the last interview of late Apar Singh Bajwa, who was, the then DSP of Amristsar, when operation Bluestar was carried out. Sounds so similar when today it’s Lal Masjid in the news, where radical extremists have taken control of a religious place. Re-cap to the time when the Golden Temple was annexed by Bhindrawale and his maniac bunch. And even that operation ended in red.
Well, let’s talk bout roses now. I wonder what Rose, a 14 year old girl, from Calcutta, might be doing. Rose was a maid in my society and was a victim of major abuse, violence and torture while she was in the clutches of her cruel employers. After a women’s organization was informed, she was rescued. She survived the ordeal and though her bones were battered, but not her soul. Bones, did I hear? My parents wanted me to be a Bone Specialist, but what I became was a funny bone specialist, Huh. As we all know, today, is 11th July, the first anniversary???) of the Mumbai Train Blasts. And how strange, that Mumbai Police thinks that terrorists will/may strike on this very same day. Arre CP Sir, even terrorists have an I.Q. Why should they attack on a day when security is supposed to be the tightest.
Saw this picture of a sniffer dog conducting checks at nthe railway station. Here’s how the conversation goes between the 2 sniffer dogs of Mumbai Police:
Dog 1: Arre boss, kuch mila kya.
Dog 2: Nahi yaar, yeh Mumbai police bhi na, khali peeli bahut kaam kara tein hai. Arre yaar, everyday I have to work 14 hours a day.
Dog 1: Man, guess what, I’m having such a bad nose and a sore throat now. I’m planing to take part in a Himeshbhai voice contest.
Dog 2: Wish there was a bomb threat at Mallika Sherawat’s house. Atleast bomb nahi, toh sex bomb toh dekhne ko milega.
Dog 1: Chalo, I hope your wish is fulfilled. Every dog has its day hahahah.
Headlines are funny stuff these days. Sample this: HT says 24 cops slaughtered by Maoists. DNA says 20 Maoists killed, and 27 cops missing. Now, what’s missing in both, is the real fact, right? Or so it seems. I tend to go on to serious topics more often but then blame it on Newspapers, ok? Ask them why they carry news items that are mostly serious. Or else why should I write about cops and Maoists being killed like flies.
And flies bring me to another item. I mean news item. A study says that Bird flu can spread through houseflies also. Gosh, how are we going to cull all those flies now, just as all the birds were culled during the last scare. Think, think think. Write in with your answer…early bird( !) wins a surprise gift.
A few more tit-bits.
Headline: Pawar kills several birds with one stone.
My line: Sir, instead, could you please spare a thought for a bird sanctuary?
Headline: Mayawati orders the razing of a stadium for a Kanshiram Memorial.
My line: Thank god, the vigilant citizens and players were more athletic than her, and managed to run to the judge’s home at 1.15 in the night to get a stay order.
Having a beer. And I read this news. 76mn in the world suffer from alchohol related disorders. Reminds me of a line I read sometime back. When I read the ill-effects of drinking, I stopped. Reading.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
A prostitute is also someone's mother.
Everytime i would see images of those women, dressed flashily, garish make up, and with a pure in hand and magalsutra around the neck....i would feel like yukkk....who would be ready to fuck them..i used to think....i measn how can one feel hot seeing such dirty ugly women....
i was wrong....
i was nasty..
i was disgusting my my thinking....
this wednesday nite, as i finished with my workshop at madh island, at the resort, i was in a mad rush to go back home..since i dint hav network on my cell, i thot i will call up from some coin box...
i stopped...n dialled the first number...i jus got a strange strong perfume aroma...n i saw this woman standing next to me...maybe waiting for the pco box....
i asked her politely..n she said yes she needs to call....since i was going to be pretty long on the call, i thot it wise to let her call first.
dint heat anything. but its now that i realised that the [place where i was standing was a seedy looking hotel, bustling with activity, of girls n guys, walking in and out..of those small rooms lined up on either side.
my curiosity got the better of me.
as i called up my wife, i saw men coming n talking to those women....kitna legi re....ek shot ka kitna...total 300 rupiya plus room ka 100 rupiya....kinda things i overheard....
meanwhile the flow was on...arre even some hot n rich looking couples i saw driving in with luxury cars...skodas n the hyundai accents...all heading for that ultimate pleasure experiuence in one of those secluded rooms/cottages. n mind u, no hint of being guilty, no hint of doing something wrong....well who am i to judge...after all, today its a free economy n a free world...any 2 consenting adults can indulge into anything......
i crept a bit closer to hear what they were talking...this shabby looking rickshawala and this middle aged woman....
the conversation, interspersed with gaalis, swear words....
arre 300 rupiya toh bahut hai re...tu toh abhi buddhi(old) hai.....
ur not as tight as a young woman..so why r u asking for so much money.....
the negotiations contd...
thats when the woman, sad n poor looking, and no make up in the world could hide her feelings that wat she is doing is out of plain majboori.....
she asnswered the call.....and guess wat...it was her son/daughter....
haan, beta, main jaldi hi ghar pe pahunch jaoongi....thoda kaam hai abhi baki....beta guddi ka khayal rakhna....darwaja bandh rakhna...aur haan, tun khana kha lena...
she disconnected..and left for one of the rooms, in that dark corner.....with that rickshaw wala...
he must be really hungry for sex right now....
meanwhile...she...must have spread her legs, taken the man inside...and while the action is on....
she must be thinking about her little kid...who also needs to be fed khana tommorow....
i was wrong....
i was nasty..
i was disgusting my my thinking....
this wednesday nite, as i finished with my workshop at madh island, at the resort, i was in a mad rush to go back home..since i dint hav network on my cell, i thot i will call up from some coin box...
i stopped...n dialled the first number...i jus got a strange strong perfume aroma...n i saw this woman standing next to me...maybe waiting for the pco box....
i asked her politely..n she said yes she needs to call....since i was going to be pretty long on the call, i thot it wise to let her call first.
dint heat anything. but its now that i realised that the [place where i was standing was a seedy looking hotel, bustling with activity, of girls n guys, walking in and out..of those small rooms lined up on either side.
my curiosity got the better of me.
as i called up my wife, i saw men coming n talking to those women....kitna legi re....ek shot ka kitna...total 300 rupiya plus room ka 100 rupiya....kinda things i overheard....
meanwhile the flow was on...arre even some hot n rich looking couples i saw driving in with luxury cars...skodas n the hyundai accents...all heading for that ultimate pleasure experiuence in one of those secluded rooms/cottages. n mind u, no hint of being guilty, no hint of doing something wrong....well who am i to judge...after all, today its a free economy n a free world...any 2 consenting adults can indulge into anything......
i crept a bit closer to hear what they were talking...this shabby looking rickshawala and this middle aged woman....
the conversation, interspersed with gaalis, swear words....
arre 300 rupiya toh bahut hai re...tu toh abhi buddhi(old) hai.....
ur not as tight as a young woman..so why r u asking for so much money.....
the negotiations contd...
thats when the woman, sad n poor looking, and no make up in the world could hide her feelings that wat she is doing is out of plain majboori.....
she asnswered the call.....and guess wat...it was her son/daughter....
haan, beta, main jaldi hi ghar pe pahunch jaoongi....thoda kaam hai abhi baki....beta guddi ka khayal rakhna....darwaja bandh rakhna...aur haan, tun khana kha lena...
she disconnected..and left for one of the rooms, in that dark corner.....with that rickshaw wala...
he must be really hungry for sex right now....
meanwhile...she...must have spread her legs, taken the man inside...and while the action is on....
she must be thinking about her little kid...who also needs to be fed khana tommorow....
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Finance Minister- and sweeping changes
The first thing u think of, when we say sweeper, is a man, armed with a broom, mite be looking old, hassled, ragged clothes...etc etc. But look at this picture, dated 1st march, 2007, published in Hindustan Times. Yes, it's jus outside the Fincance Minister's Office, and who you see in brand new sneakers( Nike??) a crisp tight fit jeans and a bracelet on his hand...is a sweeper.
Liberalisation has reached! Atleast outside the FM's office. Only time will tell, when it will reach those farmers in vidharbha...maybe as they say philosophicaly...after seven births. Hey farmers, plz commit suicide 7 times....
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
ENGLISH IJJ A PHUNNY LANGUAGE
The Samjauta express, train that runs between India and Pakistan came under a terrorist attack. And 64 ppl died. Sad, really sad. But as they say, even in the grimmest of moments, sometimes there's always a reason to smile. Look at these protesters in Pakistan. Ooooops...wat they said is We condemn the BUM( not bomb) Blast. Now, that aSS funny as you can get!
The Lost Butterfly....( no one knows wat happened)
was speeding at 80 miles an hour on the highway....dust n grime hitting me every second. as i overtook trucks n bikes n cars, and rushing towards my office, all i had in mind was the watch, the seconds ticking away. as it is, i love speed and i love going at 100 plys kms per hour. justhen i felt something on my shirt button...some movement i felt. i dint bother n was busy looking at the next vehicle to overtake. the red signal brought be back to the place where i must belong- the ground. again, i felt that something moving on my shirt, n for a second, i w2as like surprised. it ws a lovely small butterfly clinging to my shirt button. arre such a an mamzing piece of gods art, n natures design, that i started at it for a few seconds. the red was going to turn green in about 100 seconds now. i jus shook my shirt button to get rid of it, and instead of flying away, it jus went n plopped itself on the road below. dint bother for a moment, as it perched itself on the road n was jus shaking its wings a lil bit. i started my bike now, n was jus about to move ahead a lil....and thats wen something took over me...a flurry of questions...how can i let the butterfly die under the wheels of some vehicle...that poor helpless create was trying to fly but maybe too exhasted or jus injured. without wasting a second, i got off the bike, picked up that lil thing, n then went to a small nearby plant, n perched it on a leaf.
once again, i felt the joy, wen a small creature fluttrerd its wings on that leaf. my engine roared, n i was gone in a jiffy.
i dont know wat must hav happend to that butterfly after i left. maybe it will fly again. maybe it will smile again, n go n smell the flowers. wat i do know, that it wont die under some truck tyre, or some unsuspecting biker. and wat i know for sure, that yes, god will be happy that one of his creations dint die in the man-made concrete jungle.
once again, i felt the joy, wen a small creature fluttrerd its wings on that leaf. my engine roared, n i was gone in a jiffy.
i dont know wat must hav happend to that butterfly after i left. maybe it will fly again. maybe it will smile again, n go n smell the flowers. wat i do know, that it wont die under some truck tyre, or some unsuspecting biker. and wat i know for sure, that yes, god will be happy that one of his creations dint die in the man-made concrete jungle.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Why a million sperms....
The process of life, its so beautiful. I mean, from a microscopic sperm, another life is born...and the next generation..and then the next generation.
But im not into explaining biology. last nite, as i was going home, i just heard the news that an ad film, which i wanted to do so badly, has been postponed by the client. Phew! There, again, i said to myself. Once again...the world is round, and im back to square one. Neways, i shall keep trying..again and again and again.
That's where i saw this entire process like those tiny million sperms, floating and rushing to meet the egg. rat race, life is, isnt it? and this rat race, all of us know, begin rite at the very conception stage. imagine a million of those living cells rushing towards their goal....and .....
....
....
....
....
....
Only ONE in a million, makes it. And a new life is born. Maybe my philosophy therefore stems from biology. I must keep on trying, and trying. and [praying and praying.
Thats the way life was born. And thats the way it's gotta go on.
Ashish
But im not into explaining biology. last nite, as i was going home, i just heard the news that an ad film, which i wanted to do so badly, has been postponed by the client. Phew! There, again, i said to myself. Once again...the world is round, and im back to square one. Neways, i shall keep trying..again and again and again.
That's where i saw this entire process like those tiny million sperms, floating and rushing to meet the egg. rat race, life is, isnt it? and this rat race, all of us know, begin rite at the very conception stage. imagine a million of those living cells rushing towards their goal....and .....
....
....
....
....
....
Only ONE in a million, makes it. And a new life is born. Maybe my philosophy therefore stems from biology. I must keep on trying, and trying. and [praying and praying.
Thats the way life was born. And thats the way it's gotta go on.
Ashish
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