The Inner Storm.........

In today’s world, there are a number of activities for which an individual or a group needs prior license or permission. For example, if someone wants to open a liquor shop in the neighborhood, he or she needs to have a license for that. For driving, opening some new business enterprise blah.. blah. But somehow in this myriad web of license raj, we have missed a critical issue. In our Indian culture, generally parents have been given a status only next to GOD, and in some cases even higher than the Almighty. Because almighty is not going to manifest and change your diapers in the middle of the night or clean your dirty nosy…etc etc. But those were the days of Satyug and Shravan Kumar’s. We have also grown up hearing that “A Son can be a KAPUT but a mother will always be the mother”. Till now all is good and fair in the Ramanand-Sagar serial. But the twist comes, when the very people who are entrusted as the caregivers to the infant take liberties or go astray. Our first reaction ...

WoW, you found no other coordinates on this vast earth , but India to take birth. So,welcome to the grind asshole. 1. First thing that everybody will hide from you is the forbidden knowledge of sex, and that's the reason you get to know it pretty early. But, remember ,that knowledge can never turn practical until you have not fed at least a thousand fat ass people and spent half your fortune on the drama, which is called the Great Indian Marriage.95% of Indians work their ASS off just that nobody can raise a bloody finger when they marry off the product of their loins. So, bottom line, unless you look like Ryan Gosling, make your right hand your Girlfriend (It will never fail you). 2. Never ever, I repeat, Never ever (not unlike Arnab) pick up paint brush or read any poetry except for exams or if Art n Crafts Madam wears a deep neck blouse. And don't even think of composing or writing something new. It's a crime in India you  came out of the womb with just one mis...

In my day dreams in which I imagine myself in a number of scenarios (Including the one in bed with Katrina), the one which is feel is achievable (In real life) is to write a book review. I am often surprised to find people around me who don’t read much and whenever some guy wants to take up a new book I am usually the guy who they ask for a few comments first. But my reading is not structured,   its  pretty eclectic, so people often frown when they  find out that I have not read this famous blah blah author. I often think(read daydream) how good it would be if I quit my job and just  make my living writing reviews, because I read on an average 3 to 4 books per week. But who has the energy to bring that change, recently a bug of short stories has made home  in  my wobbled brain, and talking about brains; It was only yesterday when my sister called me up and said that  she saw a brain of an addled person  in her lab. I asked how you different...

One look at Surya and you will find a decent looking, small stature person, wearing rimmed  spectacles, Square face, with a resolute chin.  His hair is all dishevelled after a 15 mile ride in an Auto Rickshaw from Atapur  to Punjagutta Chowk.  So, rather than a professional , he looks  more like a guy who  has been fired ,he has a small bulge in his belly, not uncommon for professionals in his company, with all those daily allowances. He looks likes the hundreds other backpack carrying, formal wearing professionals roaming here and there hailing autos, running after buses and cabs,  calling an end to another miserable day at work. It’s all new for him, because at his previous location he was the only guy in the above mentioned attire. Initially he was not very happy with the transfer, but it took only one Veg-Biryani at the Paradise to convince him otherwise, apart from the politeness and cooperative nature of the people (except the Auto –R...

 It was like just another day in my "Amazing" life as Trainee in the " Amazing"  Tata Motors.  Bus dropped me at a walking distance from my building. There is park on the way. I used to hit the track regularly in the park  a few weeks back. It also had its own reason. My timing always "co-incidently" matched with the entry of a Hot chick. So, if she started running clockwise, my direction obviously would be anticlockwise or vice-verse . I always ran fast enough to cross her twice per round. But after 4 weeks of "BOLTING" , backaches and calf pulls , she didn't as much as look at your humble servant . My body finally refused to obey the orders from some vague part and finally the drudgery came to an end.  At the entry gate of the park there is also a Momo wallah. After 6 pm there is a literally a stampede for the momos/dimsums.  But today me and my flat mate were the first " Boney customer" for the Momo wallahs.  He asked...

I often used to ponder upon the above thought; can life be any stranger than a man's imagination? There have been numerous examples where the vagaries of life have shocked us beyond reason, but still one can only appreciate it only when something strange happens in his own life or with someone he is very close to. One of the major black spots of our logical brain is the inability to fully understand complexity of relationship with people around us, there is no mathematical formula or a theorem which can cover the entire range of permutation and combination our mind does in a relation or is forced to do so. So finally cut the philosophical bullshit and let's come to the point, I have an amazing story to tell, but it’s not mine, it happened with my closest friend, while we were travelling in a train chair car- Sampark Krantii. His seat was on the window side , but i was too quick to for him as always to let him have the pleasure of cool wind through my hair , only to regret it l...