Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Madame Bovary

The Hen was being chased by an intercontinental ballistic missile with a thermonuclear warhead, and she had run through narrow alleys and subways and traffic intersections in a futile bid to escape. She had ducked, weaved and changed lanes and tried everything else that occurred to her powerful intellect, but to no avail, as the multimegaton thermonuclear warhead had relentlessly powered its way across the atlantic at hypersonic speeds crossing arctic peaks, sub-saharan tropical forests and also cruising in outer space for a while, because its homing device had locked itself onto the GPS transmitter embedded in The Hen's neck by the evil Dr.Merkw├╝rdigeliebe. So she was running along this highway, with a million computations and escape routes and back-up plans all worked out in her mind and ready to execute in a fraction of a second when she saw this huge oil tanker approaching...and she thought to herself that if she crossed over at the right moment from under the tanker, the nuclear warhead would hit it instead and everything in a 20 mile radius would go up in flames, and the entire town would be annihilated, burnt beyond recognition, which was fine because The Hen was really a Soviet spy who wanted to destroy the town in the first place, and it was all part of an elaborate communist plot to conquer the Moon and establish a monopoly in the Calciate alabaster market... so all The Hen had to do was just roll under the chassis of the oil tanker as it sped past. But the warhead was fast approaching, gaining on The Hen at hypersonic speed, its tip glowing red hot and its explosive power causing the entire shank to shudder in deathly vibration. Cars and trucks were overturned in its wake and glass panes shattered in the sonic boom, and as the moment of impact approached The Hen turned back in slow motion and the missile was reflected in the black of its deep eyes, and it knew in its bones that all it had to do was just cross over.... to just get to the other side of the road. And it did it in classic, unforgettable style.

And that honeybum, is why the chicken crossed the road.

PS: That also explains why its such a bad idea to eat chicken.

Some things about the universe I've never been able to comprehend...

If the dog in the manger is asleep, would you complain?

Why do they call an easy target a sitting duck? Its not as if standing ducks can easily out-manoeuvre cheetas. They are not even brisk swimmers. Can ducks sit?

Why doesnt our moon have a name?

When people say "Can I ask you something?", is that a trick question?

Why dont we ever see obese lions or tigers?

Isn't agriculture the worst ever thing to happen to us? Imagine how long the lunch hour would be if we'd had to go out and hunt down zebras for food!

If dinosaurs hadn't become extinct, would they have made good pets? Would we have seen dino-food commercials?

Would temples in Kerala have had Mastodons? Would we have seen Butter-Dodo, Dodo-65 and Tandoori Dodo on menus?

Why do cats fight with dogs but play games with mice? Whom then, will the mice play with if the cat is away?

What would you call a person living in Andaman & Nicobar? An Andamanan and Nicobaran?

Monday, May 26, 2008


And here it comes again... A perfectly good day with nothing wrong about it, except that its a monday!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

On how to survive in Madras

If you are living in Madras and are finding it difficult to cope, you might find these pointers very helpful.

1. If you don't like Sambar, just close your eyes and gulp it down. There is no way you can avoid it here. Thinking of it as Dal tadka with tamarind juice spilt in it might help.

2. If you don't like south indian food, search for alternatives instead of cribbing about it.

3. If you do like south indian food, the next time you eat that mountain of rice remember that you have ingested enough energy to power a medium sized industrial cement mixer for a whole day. And in the time it takes your body to burn it all off, you would have eaten four more meals and would have put on enough weight to look like a prehistoric dinosaur with flesh hanging like curtains from its neck and arms. Go home. Feel good about it.

4. It is too hot. Yeah. 40C is hot. What are you, a fucking polar bear? Stop whining and put up with the heat.

5. Humidity. Yes, it is very humid. So use a deodrant.

6. There are no pretty girls. What can I do about it? There are some things for which even I don't have an answer.

7. Don't make fun of the Tamil accent, you shallow fuck. Know that "they" are making just as much fun of you as you are of them.

8. When a guy says, "Vaves begave likea mattre vonly ven they are in the prezence aaf yae graavitationala field-uh.", stop sniggering and listen to what he is saying instead of how he is saying it, you disgusting dirtbag. The guy could have just described the general theory of relativity. He could have been Ramanujam for all you know, but No. His accent is more important. You shallow pieces of shit.

8. I have heard so many people complaining that house rents are skyrocketing, auto-wallahs demand ridiculous fares, books are no longer cheap in Moore market etc. You obviously hold me responsible for all that. And because I was told at a very young age never to start a sentence with And and since you were obviously born yesterday, let me explain something to you.

There is a popular theory.

If in a forest there are 10 chimpanzees selling books and 100 gorillas who want to buy books, then the highest price quoted by the most gullible gorilla prevails in the forest. The 10 chimpanzees don't care how street smart the other 99 gorillas are or how attractive their backsides look, they just dont want to bargain. They want to find that one dumbass gorilla and sell him all their stuff.

It is called free market capitalism. If you don't like it, go and live in Cuba. You may find www.havana-rentals.com very helpful.

If you don't mind capitalism, there is some dipshit going around fixing rents and thrusting wads of cash into autowallahs' pockets. Find him and kill him. It will at lease keep the rents in check.

As long as there are people like you who keep giving the autowallahs what they ask for, prices will continue to remain high. Next time the autowallah asks you for 50 bucks for a two kilometre ride, walk. Don't go to Saravana bhavan and pay 40 bucks for a dosa. Eat at home. The next time the landlord quotes Rs.15000 for a 1bhk in Ponneri, dont bow your head. Don't look away. Dont mumble. Walk away. Don't give him the pleasure. Tell him you would rather live in a sewage pipe.

If enough people follow this, there will soon be a reversal of tide. Autowallas will be begging with us, fighting and clawing and undercutting each other's prices. Rents will come down. Dosas will be priced at 7 rupees, like they should be. Make yourself more scarce, you airheads! Make them seek you. Turn the system against itself. Use free market capitalism against the chimpanzees and cockroaches of the world.

Make my vision come true, you clones.

Undefuckingcipherables - Part 1 of many

I am going to make a list of all the words and phrases that I find ridiculous, funny, irritating or just plain dumb. There is so much dumb shit that I hear everyday that it is impossible for me to remember everything right now, so I am going to call this list "undefuckingcipherables", and I'll add more words and phrases to it later. You can contribute, too.

I hear this one very often: "You can't even mention Bachchan and SRK in the same breath" What shit? ~breathes in~ "Bachchan SRK" ~breathes out. There, dumbshits, I just did it.

There is a variation to this one. "Bachchan is so much better than SRK that you cannot even mention them both in the same sentence.

Appearances I dont care about. Accents I can forgive, but when someone talks dumbfucking nonsense like this, I do tend to blow my lid off. Now, I dont give two pellets of rat droppings about Bachchan, and I'd sooner die a slow and painful death after sawing off my arms and legs than watch another SRK publicity stunt.

There. Same sentence.

I just proved you wrong, numbnuts! Die in shame.