Its saturday again :)

I saw Rang De Basanti. Very nice movie. Makes you think. Really, at some point in my life I was all, ``balls, i'm not gonna let him break the queue.'' But eventually, you give in and say, ``what the hell, its just one person, how many can you stop, and he so much bigger than me anyway.'' So I think i'm a little more inspired now. It would have liked the movie a lot more if Aamir Khan didn't make me and 200 other people who paid for the 10.30 show wait till 11.00. And none of them complained. Well, i didn't either, but i went across to tgifs and had a vodka.

I'd say more about the movie, but that would be a spoiler, and not much fun. So I won't.

Its been an interesting week. I went to TC midweek, where I got a little buzzed, and danced with some random woman. She said her name was `Mistree'. I didn't believe her, but i didn't argue cos of all the Vodka. (I love the russians)

I think I will just stay home today. My bad tummy is, well, bad. I think i'll sleep. and wake up tomorrow and go for a run. If i were in Bombay, i'd go to Priyadarshini Park and run. But this is not bombay.

Fun Friday

Thats a teeny tiny alliteration. Fun Friday.

So anyway, i've figured out my problem with getting hooked up : Women.
Well, not women as such, but that I dont know any. Well, i do, a lot, but not in this city. I've been here, for what ... two years now, but the whole time i've been with my ex. I havn't really met any new girls. So there. Now i have to find a solution to that problem.

So last night, i decided to bond with another guy. I called Z, who used to be a classmate, and now organises concerts for a lot of money.

Its funny, him and I were never really best friends, but this time he just talked for hours. Like about why he broke up with his ex, and the girl that caused it. Of course it was all manly talk, not girly girly. So it was peppered with expletives, car talk and money talk.
``So how come you guys broke up? you were going pretty strong,'' he said.
So i found myself in a place where i had to talk. I mean, he'd told me all. He'd broken the secret-barried (you know, men don't tell sad stories to other men unless they're really good friends).
So anyway i told. Not in full detail, though ... i guess i wasn't as ready as him.

Anyway, after that , i decided we needed to go offroading. So we drove around Sanjay-Van, looking for an entry. Eventually, we found one, and at 2 am, entered.... it was a slight climb, and at some points, i needed to switch to FourWheel.
After some blind reversing, some paint scratching, and some accidental hitting of the wipers, we were fairly into the forest.

I felt all man. I felt adventurous. I felt cool. I felt , er, a little scared.

``Dude, what if there are cops inside?'' Apparently, he was a little scared too.
Other than the cops, it was all dark, and you know...
Anyway, after driving for a while I said, ``Dude, you know we won't be able to reverse if we go in any deeper,'' I said. But since we were both men, and had to be brave, we kept going.
``Hey, i know where this road goes,'' he says, ``to the dirty nallah.''
oh.
``In fact, i think i can smell it now... man it reeks'' he says. So i stuck my nose out of the window and smelt. Nothing.
``Yeh man, i smell it too,'' i say. ``Yuck. Lets get out of here,'' Once i said that, i actually could smell it. I;ll never know if it was actually there, or my mind invented it to give me good reason to leave.

But i would like to go do that in the day. When its not dark.

whazzup ma nigga!!

I just realised, i'm part nigger. My uncle's wife's sister's married to a big black man. And they have a little kid too, who looks full black cos my uncle's wife's sister's a mallu, and most of them look like thin black people anyway.

So cool, is that not? Ok, so i may not have nigger blood, but at least i have some nigger sprit. I'm sure if i actually meet the addition to the family, i'll gain some more sprit.

So all you black people out there, welcome me to the hood.

Ladies : You know what they say about us niggers!!!!

Saturday night, daaance, I like the way you move...

What is it about days like New years day? Or every week, saturday day. Its strange, when I wasn't so single, I could do the same thing I did last night, and it wouldn't bother me at all. Same thing = nothing.

If I went to a club, that was good. If i went to a Priya-Village Roadshow theater and watched Shaadi No. 1 that was good. If I sat at home and drank wine with friends, that was good. If me and my girlfriend just chatted, that was good. Even if she was away and i sat all alone at home, downloading porn and playing NFS Most Wanted in turns, i still was ok.

so yesterday i thought, `hmm saturday night, the new year party hangover is still there, so lets do something.' Of course with work people, you can't party a whole lot, cos they don't wanna. So i thought, ok, maybe old college buds. Called. they were working. I can't go anyhwhere alone. Some people do. They're just wierd. So i went to a nice, vegetarian dinner, with friends that were dressed in trackies and sweatshirts. Yay.

I read somewhere that women are most depressed on new years day, christmas and valentines. I think christmas doesn't so much apply to apna heathen Indian women, but the other two, possibly. What about men, though?

Ok, i dont get depressed much. I just look at naked women on the net, and imagine i'm actually driving to fast-ass cars. But it can't be very good for single men either no?

I think valentines day is coming up. This will be my first single valentine in some five years.

--
oh , and as an aside, I was watching CNN-IBN yesterday, and there was a brilliant something on female infanticide and foeticide. Old story that was broken by the papers a week or so ago, but i think I saw this person doing a very long report. Very nice. And, this reporter if veddy veddy hot.

She doesn't have a comment thingy on her blog, but if i'm ever in her town, or she in mine (well, its not mine, but i live here) I should like have a drink with her.

Wimmen Lessons.

Maxim has a piece called '100 things you need to know about women.' Its actually enough fuel for some 50 blogs. Some are pointless like ``she's gonna outlive you'' or ``let her win arguments''.

Some are good. Like, ``Most wimen will not have sex for the first time with a guy unless their legs are waxed. If your date shows up and you spot hairs, she's trying to keep her self in line''.

My topic for today, though is. no 67: Kiss her before two dates have gone by or you'll be `friended'.

f.r.i.e.n.d.e.d

hmm. that, my friends, is a very scary word.

It's a phenomenon that you can't get past easily.

If you're friends, then life gets complicated.

If you're just two people, and you make a move on her, then there's two choices. Either she gets made a move on, or she says, ``what the hell are you doing'' or ``er, i think we need to slow down'' or ``I'm sorry, i'm married''.

If you're already friends, then it's like the mozzarella cheese on a pizza (not pizza hut, i think they use cheddar). You know, all sticky, and gooey.

The problem with me is, I have to be slightly buzzed to come on strong enough. And then it doesn't work, cos i probably wont know the girl at all :)

If i go to coffee with her, i just talk, well, nice things.

Damn, i have a problem.

Fiesta, anyone? its got 3 exciting options!

I bought a copy of the Indian edition of Maxim. Much more toned down, i tell ya. But i'm not gonna pay 450 rupayas for the furren one.

So, they list cars of the year (with pics and specs) as the ferrari f430, Bentley GT convertible, Porche Cayman S, Jag S type, Aston's DS (so hot), H3 (so passe), Impreza (here i come WRC). Bang in the cente is Abhishek Bacchan with `Ford Fiesta' tattood on his arm. Eh? What did they think? Random men are going to go through all those dream cars and say, ``oh well, I'll just take the 101 bhp fiesta, which stops pulling in third gear''?

Kanta's Feni.

So i spent New Years on a little, secret beach in goa. There were a lot of people, but not enough to disqualify the 'secret' tag.It was mostly a get back-back-with-old-buddies-new-year. There were some drunken women, but this post is not about that.

It's about Feni.

The national drink of goa, as you may all know. What's funny is that few of the locals I met seem to like it. Strange, because it's good stuff.
There are two kinds of Feni. `Branded' stuff, that comes in packaged bottles, with names like 'Big Boss', `Beach Bonanza' and `Mogambo'. Ok, the last two i made up, but Big Boss is famous. The bottles are made of plastic, and that is what seperates the men from the boys.We men drink `Local Feni'. It comes in glass bottles, and they have labels like, Royal Challenge, Real Whisky and Vat 69. What i mean is, its packed in old bottles by the local seller.

So, me and Horseyboy spent an hour looking for one such famous retailer. Near Baga Beach, while other, lesser men, were siping vodka or whiskey or some such lesser drink, we found this man.Kanta.

He was lean and wiry, and you could tell that in his day, he'd lifted his share of weights and beaten up random white people.

Well, anyway, we chatted with him and his drunk customers in the little country bar.

Us : ``What percent alcohol does Feni have?''
Kanta ``Very High degree. Ay patrao, what degree? "(to a drunk)
Old man, with broken teeth, as he gets his glass filled with a 200 ml shot of the stuff : ``180 degree''
Kanta : ``Pheh. Whatchasayin men? Nai nai... yeh 20 degree hai.''

When we asked him what was the difference between the local stuff and the properly bottles stuff, he poured some on a table, and lit it. Bright blue flame.

Anyway. we drank. A lot.

Happy new year all. Hic.

The games men play.

No, i'm not talking about mind games. In fact, I mostly lose in those.

But i'm home, and went for a drive with HorseyBoy.

We drove around, talked about women for a moment, then talked about cars for many moments. We bought some channya-munnya. I don't know what they're called in English, or any other language. But they're small, dark red, slightly sour berries. THey're all skin and seed, with a little bit of gloppy goo inside that tastes nice.

So you have to eat 10 before it tastes of anything.

So we were driving down in his Baleno (well, his dad's, but it's a great car) on the hinghway. This highway cuts through the city, so we're just driving home, nowhere special.
We're eating the channya-munnyas, and have the seeds collected in our mouths. I say, ``heh heh ... dude lets see if you can hit that cyclist!''
Horsey: ``No man, that's mean.''Me : ``Ok, hit the motorcyclist.''Horsey : Spit*miss* spit*miss. ``Er, i'll hit the cyclists. They're easier targets. We never hit anyway.''
I'm on the passenger side, so i hit oncoming cars. 1 point for a maruti 800, 5 for a lancer and 10 for a merc. I score 25 when I manage to get one straight into the cabin of an Ashok Leyland.
Horsey gets just one cyclist. Its a small seed, so it doesn't hurt him, but he just turns back to look. Don't know why, but we laugh like hyenas when this happens, and horsey almost drives into the back of a corvette. Ok, not corvette, but old 800. (you know the original japanese engine ones? Lower than the new ones? Yummy to drive? the first jap cars in India?)
Then we get bold, slow down, spit out at people, and zip away, hella lights leading.

The key to spitting well, is that the force must come from the bottom of your gut, not your mouth. {Place seed between pursed lips, breathe deep, expand stomach, wth a sharp contract of the diaphragm, expell air. Don't forget to aim.
Later, we sat down and talked. its funny, i've known this guy for 22 of my 24 years. We talk about everything. But whenever we come to women, the conversation is always the same.
Him : "So gangsta, whast up with that babe?" THe `babe' in question would be one i've been in love with for the past 2 years or so. And he dosn't say `gangsta' in normal conversaition in real life.Me : We broke up man.Him : No way! WHy? Me : Ahh. Him : oh you know who's hot? That babe that used to be in your college. Me : screw her. Are you still getting it on with RomeGirl? Dude you have a girlfriend. Him : hah hah. You made out with her when you had one. Me : You wanna play NFS2? I'll get the PS2.Him: Yeh, or we could go to the go-kart track.

The point is, we never ever really talk about women. We don't need to, I guess. Men usually don't, well, the men i know.

Except one guy that came up to me and said, ``if you ever want to talk, i'm here''. What guy says that?

Anyway, new years is coming up. Yay. Drunken women.

women, i tell ya.

So i went out with my buds. And we did the ``blocking race'' on the way back. `Blocking race' may sound like a stupid name, but thats just cos i just made it up. Here's how it works. It needs 2 men, in 2 cars. Usually it just sponateously breaks out. Needs to starting grid.

It happens when one car gets in front of the other. The other will try to get in front, but the car in front won't let him. So the car behind tries his best to get in front. Its more challenging if the car in front is faster than the one behind. It eventually ends with a battle of nerves, when the back-car powers through a little space, almost touching the front-car. Whoever chickens out first, loses. The winners gets to stick his finger out and yell ``woooohoooo girly boy''.

This time, i was in DaBussinessman's qualis, and Monk was in the esteem. I was behind. But i won when overtook from the wrong side of an 18-wheeler, missing the wall by an inch, when Monk thought I would chicken out.

What's with happy endings?

I went to see `Bluffmaster'. Good. Very watchable. And as much as I hate to admit it, the junior bacchan looks decent. And acts decent too.

I thought about her (see my last post) a fair amount through the movie.

Yea, she was cute (especially when she decided it was hot, and took her sweater off). But that wasnt why i thought of her all.

Imagine knowing someone, and not knowing anything about that person, except that his, or her, mother is just about to die...

I mean, i don't even know her last name.

as an aside : If you watch bluffmaster, don't miss roy's the cool car. Looks like a mustang. What I wouldn't do for a car like that. I'd even agree to not shoot priyanka chopra in the knee with an airgun everytime she said anything. (she's hot and all, but a bit pf a piss off)

Mile High

Ever since I remember going somewhere by aeroplane, or train even, it has always been a dream to get a seat next to a hot woman.

The last time that happened was, umm, when i was was 8 I think. My mum, my sis and I were travelling somewhere in a train, and there was some problem with our tickets. Anyway, two really cute women offered to share their coupe with my sis and me. They gave us two chints one berth, and the two off them, all growed up and all, took the other. Looking back, it was a lot hotter than i knew it was then.

Well, today I flew Air Deccan. Shitey airline. The airhostesses look all frumpypoo in their blue and yellow... things (i dont know what those frick dresses are called!)

Anyway, the check-in queue was really long. They said computer problem, i thought it was just ineptitude. Anyway, two queues away, i saw this really pretty girl. She was with someone. She was wearing this tikka on her forehead. She was dressed really well too. Thin, tallish, just my type.

Anyway, so I looked at her. I dont know if she looked back, i wasn't wearing my lenses. But i thought she did.

As luck would have it, both of us checked in at the same time.

Now, there's another queue for security check. This damn airline has so many queues, i just love them.

So, she was right behind me in the queue. I didn't know if she was going the same place as me, so I just looked pretty. Didn't try anything.

As luck would have it again, the chaos at the check-in counters meant free seating. So I engineered it so i got the seat right next to hers.

Anyway, we chatted. She was sweet. Except i dont think she could hear me very well, and everytime i made the right joke to make, she said, ``what's that?'' Never ``excuse me,'' or ``i didn't get that''. Just ``what's that?''

Anyway we chatted some more. She shared her water with me (this is AirDeccan, you have to BUY it). She's a student here, but lives in Delhi. She said she missed the first 20 days of college, and had to go back for ``some issues at home''.

We chatted some more. The dude in the leather jacked next to me was wishing he'd got the good seat (i.e. the middle.. heh) The dude in front of me with the blue monte-carlo sweater was chatting with this new mom (not hot by a long shot) about her travels.

She asked me about reporting. Asked me about covering the bomb-blasts.

Eventually she told me that she had to go back home for her mother. WHen she went home, she just went cos her sis's were down. Her mom had gall stones. But a few days before she arrived, her mom was diagnosed with cancer, in it's final stages. ``Every day that we spend with her is a bonus. The doctors told us she had only a few days to live'' she said. And she had tears in her eyes.

I felt so helpless. I wished i could do something. But i could just listen. I guess she needed to talk.

She had wanted to stay, but her mom wanted her to get back to college.

After telling me, she said, ``That felt a lot better''

We didn't get each others name till we'd both walked out of the airport.

I wonder what'll happen. I have her number, and i will call her, but i dont know if i can hit on her. I don't know if her mom will be alive when i call her. I know she has to go. I wonder how she'll deal with it.

As an aside, I forgot to x-ray my bag, and held up the whole flight.

-4wd

It was Beauty killed the Beast...

I saw king kong.

This, of course, is Jessica Lange, from the old one. Not the new babe. The Special Effects are mind blowing in this one. Better than LOTR. But Ms. Lange is hotter. And, believe it or not, she shows more skin than the 2005 version.

But really, i can see why these hotties like Kong so much. I mean, tall (25 feet, at last measure), dark, could pass for hand some, and has a really big ........... nose. Ok not nose.

Funny. King Kong's King Dong.

Really. Go watch the movie. Make Peter Jackson richer, he deserves it.

As an aside, you know what I really dont like? Holding hands with girls during movies. It should be ok in a film that you don't really want to watch, like any romantic film. It should be ok in comedies too, cos then you're laughing and dont care.

But action movies. No. Thats just distracting. I mean, women tend to squeeze your hand at the exact moment when your mind is supposed to `whoa'. Instead, you just go `wh-frickin-ouch'. You have to look away from the amazing fight between Kong and the 3 t-rexs (godzilla:). You can't appreciate the subtlety of kong's pile-driver if you have to keep shaking her hand off.

So, i'm watching Sidhu on NDTV right now. There's some pretty stupid things going on.

Like :

Lady on phone: ``I am sixty-five, following cricket since ...''
Sidhu. ``You look twenty-five, madam, from your voice.''

eh?

``Man has his will, woman has her way,'' (to sonali)
``I see the world, no the selectors , as a fruitcake... it wont be complete without a few nuts. They're going nuts''. (er, the point?)
``This has happened from Times immemorial''. (times is a paper)
``I would rather have a pumpkin, all to myself, and sit on it, than sit on a crowded sofa.''



But thats not all... there's also this girl (off the streets of cal) who says, ``As a bengali, I dont support this decision. I am very upset,'' (all with a broad smile)

Cricket, i tell ya. Why can't more people be into more participatory sports. Like roller-blading.

I'm a confidante!

So this is a post about a boy.
No i'm not in love with him. I didn't ask him out. Cos i don't do that. I'm into women. Not against being into men, thats ok, just that i'm not into it. Like some guys (mostly punjabi guys) like their women ``healthy''. Not me, thank you, I like them skinny.

Anyway, so this kid, lets call him, `Kid'. He's 18, but a lot heavier than me.

Anyway, Kid has been working on a story for a month now. It'll make a good writer's piece, but no big deal.

Anyway, a few days ago he came and asked me advice on some debate. Er... he doesn't even know me. And to top it all off, he interns here, but he doesn't read the paper.

So anyway, he keeps asking me for advice on the story, and i always say, ``get the story over with, and move on''.

So today he comes up, and says, ``Can you give me advice on my career?''
Me : ``Advice? uh. what sort?''
Kid: ``When did you start working?''
Me: ``Er, just now???''
Kid:``How do i proceed in my career?'' (like i'm frigin bejan daruwala)
Me: ``I dunno dude. You should just graduate first''
Kid: ``Thank you... thank you for the advice... i feel like i can trust you.''

info about me : I had no idea what i wanted to do till I did it. Now i know i want to do journalism, but i'm not sure i want to do exactly what i'm doing... i wanna do something different.

(at a later stage in the conversation) Kid : ``Can i intern here, and submit articles to another paper?''
Me: ``Eh? what's wrong with you? thats wrong. You'll get thrown out. Its totally unethical''
Kid: ``oh. I didn't know. I've never been able to talk about these things to anyone. I considered talking to *metro editor*.'' (jeez)
Me: ``Havn't you ever worked anywhere? like a summer job or something?
Kid: ``No. We don't have that culture in Kanpur.''
eh?

still later, after he bitches to me about my roomie, he says,

Kid: I need someone I can trust. I think that someone is you. I love you. (ok, the last bit i put in, but i swear he was thinking it.)

So i said, ``Dude, dont trust me. Don't accept any of my advice. I can't take responsibility for your life!!!''
Kid : ``Yes of course. You're so honest."


Why can't women like me this much?

Rejection.

So, after a premature rejection, I've figured out why men are scared of women. Well, its not an original theory at all, i've just figured it out.

Men are afraid of rejection. Cos it hurts the ego.

There that is my theory. Ok, its not big, but its ok.
So i figure, if you get rejected enough times, you'll get used to it and not care. Like learning to ride a bike. You fall off. you learn. actually that doesnt really explain it.

Ok, like racing bikes. You race them, and when you fall the first time, you realise, ok, it didn't kill me, so its ok.... so you go do it again... of course if it kills you, you don't go do it again. That would be stupid.

Tucker Max says you shouldn't care ``if the girl is going home with you''. According to him, if you don't care, not pretend to not care, it works better. Don't ask me why... Don't ask me why i read him even.. i dont want to be like him... he's just funny.

ok, so the last bit was pointless.

No women. Just stupid.

Hello world.

Not a nice day. So many decisions. I mean, why can't life just go they way you plan... why do you have to work so hard to get the bloomin plan to work? Compromise with this one, beg with that one, cajole with a third, steamroll no. 4. Jeez.

Anyway. Today (well, technically, late late last night), i did something stupid :)
Online. Now that's a first.

but you can read all about it here.

It takes a stpid man to be stupid. But it takes a brave man to go and tell everyone he was stupid, and then show them all evidence so they never forget.
But its ok. I'm anonymous, and I don't care what you all think of me, so here.

And the sad part about it all is, i actually had something really good to say to the guy. Good as in, bad for him. But now its lost.

Its like when you get into an argument with someone, and you come home, and then the killer come-back comes to you? I feel like that now.

aargh.

why men like games like NFS MW

NFS MW is Need for speed - most wanted. And here's my take on why men like games like this. I'm talking about big boys. You know, with jobs and lives... not little kiddie widdies. Which is probably i will never play `ragnarok'. Someone said (in press talk, which is K's blog, who is the someone in question) that games like ragnarok are the next big thing. Here's why i think that those are for boy-boys, and not man-boys (like me :P). We play games with speed, fire, and of course women. So i play NFS, Doom, Max Payne, (love duke nukem) (even loved death rally) and of course Grand Theft Auto. Which is why you now see Prime time tv ads for NFS MW and DOOM :) (and not ragnarok. My 9 year old bro plays that. And beyblade..)

So, without further ado. Why i like this game :

1) Mia is your girlfriend. Played by Josie Maran. Ooh.
2) You don't have to say a word throughout the game. Razor calls you a girly-boy, cross runs his keys across the door of your BMW, and you just sit quiet. And mia still wants to hook up with you. Screw intelligent (or any) conversation.
3) Mia drives really well. She races with you. She's not like most girls, so she won't say ``slow down'' or think that if she yells loud enough, the brake will automatically activate.
4) Mia , always, wears very little.
5) Other than mia, you can own all sorts of cars, from Mazdas to Gallardos, and yes even the Ford GT40. The little ford that could take on a ferrari.
6) You can drive like a nutcase, and win. Screw race lines.
7) You can do fishtail manouvres on cops. And it works. Like in world's wildest police videos.
8) You can take your Mustang (or Audi Quattro) STRAIGHT into a wall, at 150 MILES per hour, and only windscreen smashes. And by the next race, its ok.
9) Your Nitrous Oxide recharges as you drive.
10) You have nitrous oxide.
11) You always win.
12) You have Mia. (well, i have her for now, i havn't finished the game).

here's a post

You know, its fun to not recognise someone, especially a girl. you know, she comes up to you and says, hello, and you say, hi, and she says, ``er... don't you remember me? i'm so-and-so".

and you say ``no''.

good fun, in a strange, perverse way.

I went on an assignment that i could actually write oodles about. But then my secret identity wouldn't be secret anymore. And its serious stuff, so its not in character with this blog.

Why dylan. Why not, i say?

PR Women.

There is a massive difference between the PR people that government departments employ, and that private firms employ. Of course, thats a no brainer. But in government agencies, you almost can't tell the difference between the men and women PR people. Except in one hospital, where the PR lady looks and acts like cruella DeVille. Except her hair is all black. (if she had the CM's hair, she'd look exactly like cruella)

Anyway, the PR girls at private firms are good fun. If you're bored of the funny man at the press con, you can chat them up. Except they won't chat when the funny man is talking. And they like you more if you have a tv crew :)

Thats one reason I envy the girls that work at features (well, its mostly girls, i know very few men who do. Except one who used to, and is now a top crime reporter). I mean, what's the point of it? They get to meet all the cute PR girls. And all the PR men are funny looking loons. well, most i've met (but to be fair, i've met very few).

Anyway, i met this nice looking pr lady. (there is a reason i call her a lady, and not a girl). I flirted with her a bit, threw a bit of spiel about how us city reporting guys are more comfortable in the street, doing the dirty work. Anyway, i smsed her a few times to get some info, then i asked her to coffee/drinks.

She said, ``sure, my husband and I will join you''. Sheesh. I didn't know. I swear.

Anyway, I said sorry, she said, ``no really, join us sometime.'' Why would I? Thats would be so odd, a couple going out with a single guy. Ah well.

I'll go back to playing NFS.

-4

Good-bye, Mr. Miyagi

Pat Morita, of Mr. Miyagisan fame, passed away.

So many of us joined karate classes because of him :)

Oyasumi nasai, mr. Miyagi.