Things Obama will never say in India

First things first - it's lovely to be in Mumbai. It reminds me of New Orleans post Katrina.


Air Force One was taxiing around the airport so long I thought some Sikh gentleman replaced my pilot.


Air Force Two is basically just full of computers that needed to get fixed at Nehru Place in Delhi. Part of my austerity drive.


Saw Mukesh Ambani's Antilla while we were landing. Now THAT's a building I wouldn't mind a plane crashing into. #uglyasFuck


Michelle is now the tallest man in India.


Indians everywhere are calling Michelle Kali. I knew she was strong, but didn't realise Indians thought of her as a goddess. Win :)


Who are these Jaypee Builders and why does my Blackberry have 300 sms's offering to sell me an apartment?


Just got off the phone with a young lady from some HDFC. Have secured major loans to sail over the recession. The trip is already win.


Spent a lot of time researching about India on Rediff comments, and am disappointed no one has offered me cow urine so far.


Proud of the sniffer dog unit accompanying me on this visit. We did a major cultural integration exercise for them at New Jersey.


This Diwali - I'm gifting Manmohan Singh a personality development and public speaking course with Glenn Beck.


I hate the Pakistanis. They keep saying the damn N word all the time.


Tired of Pakistan's double game. First keep saying we want our own identity, then come to the U.S. and pretend to have an Indian restaurant.


So I told Zardari, India is like 50 Cent. You can bust a cap in its ass 9 times, but it'll still land up a successful billionaire. Unfortunately the only 50 Cent reference Zardari got was Get Rich or Die Tryin'


A true test of my being able to win hearts and minds will be if Indian men stop hesitating in watching black on black porn.


I'm not running for a second term if I've to deal with this Rahul chap.




Hamid Karzai's so stupid he thinks an Af-Pak is what you need to become a Bollywood star.


Message to Sikh brothers - Hard for me to give you visas is you put your income in quintals


No India, I cannot give you a UNSC seat through an OBC quota.


Why are you so obsessed with a Security Council seat when you can't even stop the Maoists from taking over 10 states?


Accidentally said I was a Gandhi fan like Miss World. Now have to mention it in every.speech.all.the.Fucking.time #FML


Here's what I think really about Gandhi. Nobel Peace Prize: Me = 1, Him = 0.


American companies are looking forward to investing heavily in the Indian economy. Lemme just check with China and get clearance.


That American companies are at the forefront of cutting-edge innovation is proved by the McAloo Tikki burger.


We've given access to India with regards to sensitive dual use technologies. A Dominos pizza can now also be used to beat the shit out of your wife.


This taking our relationship with India "to the next level" reminds me of convincing my chick to go all the way after months of boob grabs.


I feel the only way to win the war in Afghanistan is if India renames its intelligence agency from RAW to SMACKDOWN


Who is this Vivek Oberoi fellow and why does he keep asking for passes for my dinner with Manmohan Singh?


Saw a preview of Maurya Sheraton's Obama tandoori platter. Every kebab was completely charred. Very funny assholes. But I guess they were just being realistic. Even the Hillary platter was cold, bland and with kebabs wearing a pant-suit.


If I were to write a book about India, I'd call it Eat. Pray. Hope you don't get diarrhea


The real reason Chagan Bhujbal declined my dinner invite is because our State Dept. asked invitees to submit a proof of conscience.
When I ask for cheese they give me something called paneer. When I repeat "CHEESE" they start smiling. This is pissing me off.


There's no way I'm giving you guys access to David Headley. I saw what your cops did with Jamaal in Slumdog Millionaire.


Curious to learn about the plight of drought hit suicidal farmers in the country. Looking forward to meeting Aamir Khan


We are willing to give India our toughest and best military hardware. For example, John McCain.
Why should American suppliers be liable in case of a nuclear accident? You wanted the damn deal not us.


Kashmir is sort of like Detroit. Except Canada doesn't want it


That India and China can put their fears aside and work together is proven every day by the humble Chicken Manchurian


Seems Hu Jintao is the Most Powerful Person in the world according to Forbes. Whatever. Most followers on Twitter bitches.


Overweight American kids can take heart in the successes of their Indian peers like Sania Mirza.


Take it from a black man - stop calling your development schemes "the projects" #deep


Learnt a new phrase today - Zindagi jhand phir bhi ghamand. Can apply it to so my countries my head is spinning.


All I have to do is smile, say namaste and make an Amitabh Bachchan reference to have all of you eating out of my hands


2 volcanic eruptions and an earthquake in the last one week in Indonesia. Seems disaster strikes everywhere I'm supposed to go

Resolutions And Wishlists :)

There were quite some sights to behold last night:

1. Mom, who prides on being a teetotaler and frowns when I even think of alcohol, nursing a mug of chilled beer and ‘Cheers’ing everyone in the room!

2. The great-grandmom of the family dancing to Elvis Presley’s "A Little Less Conversation"!

3. Uncles and aunties enacting skits and acting like kids!

4. Overflowing beer!

5. Four people trying to force open the cork of a wine bottle, without a cork-opener, and managing to break the cork into tiny pieces that fell into the wine!

6. Turning around in circles with a confused look because I was drunk and I couldn’t find the bottle of scotch!

7. Calling up friends and singing Nickelback songs while standing in the middle of the road!

8. Scrambling for money to fulfill the last-minute orders for booze in the packed wine store!

… and other memorable sweet nothings marked the end of 2010 and brought in the new year with much anticipated revelry, fireworks and a collected sigh of relief. It was something that everyone needed, I guess – a break.

Resolutions, Wishlists, Hopes And Fears
Once upon a time (2 days ago) Mitesh had asked me for my resolutions and I had deftly deferred (adamantly refused) the issue until the year actually begins. Now that it has, I can avoid it no more. Through my hungover haze, I thought about it and realized that there are quite a few things that I’d want to do this year – resolutions and wishes – and I made a rudimentary list. I began prioritizing them all, and here’s the final result:


I want to smile more this year, irrespective of the situation. I want to be able to convince myself that punching myself in the face while asleep is not worth losing a smile.
I want to get the two books in the pipeline out this year, come what may.
I wish this year has some surprises in store for me, because all 2010 had to offer was one heartbreak after another.
I want to go to France.
I wish I could sleep for 16 hours a day and laze around in bed for the other 8.
I wish I could wish for more wishes.
I wish I could make others feel better.
I wish people can live in peace without having to kill for it.
I wish I could make at least one person happy per day.
I wish I can grow a year old and look back at myself with pride for having accomplished at least one of the above.
Have a great year everyone! It’s been one hell of a journey, isn’t it?

What The Fish?

Have you ever heard people saying the word ‘Fish’ instead of ‘Fuck’ in a sentence? I’ll explain exactly how annoying that is.

I dropped a piece of pie on someone’s carpet the other night and the woman said, "Oh, Fish!" I looked at her strangely and said, "No, ma’am. I’m Robin."

It was her turn to look at me strangely and say, "No, I meant the pie."

"Fish? I thought it was apple pie?"

She looked at me even strangely, half-angry at me for having ruined her carpet and half-annoyed at me for trying to be funny. I wasn’t being funny. In fact, I was genuinely stumped. I blabbered some incomprehensible apologies and ran out of there, and later realized that some people use fish as an alternative to expletives.

True, its a 4-letter F-word, but so is free, flan, flag, fork, fine, flip, flap, floo and fits, among others. Why not use these words instead of fish? And why fish, exactly? Is it because they’re dumb creatures who can do nothing but swim around all day long, staring at us with those cold eyes? Or is it because they have highly evolved S (doing the act)ual capabilities that threatens our potency?

The other day, someone asked me what the fish I was doing there instead of working, and I replied that I was fishing his happiness. He didn’t understand what I said and left me alone. So, if we were to use fish as a replacement for ‘Fuck’, then here are a few things we could consider adopting in our vocabulary:

Fish you, asshole!
What the fish?
Fish the fishing fishers.
I didn’t realize he was such a fisher! 
Fish! I missed the bus.

So on, and so forth. The list is endless.

But ever wondered what might happen if we actually want to go on a fishing trip with someone? I mean a real fishing trip, with boats, and water-bodies and fishing roads? Er, damn! The above sentence sounds so pervert! My point is that we’re probably ruining the sea-food experience of millions of people by using this alternative. Imagine asking a waiter in a restaurant for a fish, and he winks at you and calls you to the closet? Ugh! Scary thought.

Twenty Eight this year

Its a horrendous feeling. 26 asn’t so bad, I still felt I was a kid. 27was bearable. But 28sounds geriatric. I feel I’m aching all over. I feel the incessant need to play soft music and watch golf. I feel I’m hurtling towards my grave and on some days I feel I have one foot in it already.

I thought I’d make a list of all the things I need to do in the next three years, because when I reach thirty, I would want my life to mean something. I would want to stop being 22 in my head. At least by then.

I want to take a vacation for three months and travel the country. Leave all materialistic desires behind, take a small clutch of bare essentials, my laptop and go visit all the places I ever wanted to see. And I want it to be completely unplanned. No schedules to follow, no time tables, no mad rush to make the plane or the train or the bus in time. Live those three months in a state of next-available-transport.
I want to write a lot. I want to spend a good amount of time writing down my thoughts, and all the stories in my head and all the obligations I need to fulfill – for myself and for others.
I want to grow up, in my head. I want to stand in front of a mirror and be able to look into it and see a responsible adult than a retarded kid.
I want to be able to go to and sit on my rock again, in my own personal haven, and look out at the sea and be at peace.
I want to wake up on my 30th birthday and feel glad about it, rather than depressed.
I want to make at least ten million by then and retire on my thirty-first birthday.
I want to be able to make a more solid list of things, something much more tangible, by that time.

Cooking With Love

Someone said that the food I cook tastes nice because I cook with love. I started wondering about that comment ant this is what I imagined myself doing:

It was a hot, sultry afternoon and the sweat trickled down my skin in thin rivulets as I stood in front of the stove and watched as the oil in the pressure cooker heated. In slow gracious movements, I reached out and grabbed the packet of jeera. The plastic cover felt tingly in my sweaty palms, like a frail body waiting to be loved delicately. I added a bit of the seeds into the hot oil, just a bit, and watched as they turned brown and started sizzling, giving out the most heavenly aroma, wafting up slowly up to my nostrils and tickling my most sensitive senses.

I grabbed a pair of onions, one with each hand, and ran my fingers all over them, caressing and squeezing the soft mounds, and kissed them softly at first, and the nibbled hard at the ends, biting them off. I slowly peeled away the thin outer covering of skin and ran them both under a stream of warm water. The steam rising off the onions and my hands as I washed them was a feeling so sensual that it brought tears to my eyes. I picked up a clean, sharp knife and sliced the first onion cleanly in half. It was like cutting butter with a hot knife, as I made the gentle motions of dicing the onions, with some of its juice oozing out with each cut, in and out, in and out, in… and out…

I added the sliced onions to the oil in the cooker, and immediately, they started sizzling, moaning in pleasure as their cold bodies touched the hot oil, jumping in ecstasy and turning brown with pleasure. I gently poked at them with a ladle and began stirring them, softly, thoroughly, ensuring that no stray piece of onion sticks to the side, clockwise first and then, counter, feeling them sautee in the warmth of the fiery stove.They soaked up the oil and were dripping wet after a few minutes, completely fried and waiting to explode all our senses as they touched our wet, hungry lips.

I spiced up the whole affair with a bit of MTR Pulao Masala, gently sprinkling the powdered essence onto the wet, oily core of heaven, and watched as the onions hungrily ate it up, soaking in the taste and the color and spewing out the amazing aroma of the spicy mixture. The smell gushed out in torrents and filled me up, filled up the whole room, the whole house, and it seemed, the whole world stopped and wafted in the fragrance. I continued my gentle stirring motions and after what seemed an eternity compressed into two minutes, I added a bowl of fresh, green peas.

The little balls of green flavor ran and hid amidst the forest of hot wetness and sizzled where they stood, adding their own little sensuality to the fragrance. The onions, the spices and the green peas danced together in a carnal dance, a threesome made to last, enticing my every sense and oozing with fragrant pleasure and moans of sizzling heat, fulfilling their destiny, filling each other up, completing each other…

After a few minutes of watching them play out their desires and the moans and sizzles settled down, I added two cups of wet rice, washed and cleaned. The Basmati, angry at being left out of the party, took over the gastronomic orgy with a vengeance, and orchestrated the most breathtaking display of fragrance and it seemed to show the other three lovers just how it is done. The onions, the spices and the peas gave in to Basmati’s superiority and embraced the millions of tiny specks of lust and didn’t want to let go.

Four cups of water, three table spoons of salt, three whistles on the cooker, and one of the best man-made slices of pleasurable heaven was complete. Completely sated and thoroughly exhausted after the incredible display of kama, I had peas pulao for lunch.

You Can’t Ring & Ruin My Life!

Remember those days of carefree indulgence back in college or school or
even the womb? You could do whatever you wished without anyone bothering
you or asking you irritating questions. Life was so beautiful, with little
misery to discover and a lot of fun to explore. Then, some idiot went and
invented the mobile phone.

It’s bad enough to have one phone, but when you try to adhere to statistics
(India has almost a 200% cell-phone penetration), you get stuck with two
phones and a very short fuse. Constantly trying to please every one of the
900-odd contacts on both phones, most of whom just give you a missed call
hoping you consider them important enough for you to call back, can be
quite a challenge if you’re not taking anger management classes.

When I have full credit balance, the mobile battery is low. When the
Battery is fully charged, the credit balance is low. When battery and
Balance are fully available, mobile network is down….

Outgoing calls are less and incoming sales calls are a lot. Sales companies
pester you with calls and when you lose your cool, you are expected to talk
with respect and manners. I’ve always wondered the concept before/during
the call that says “Kindly note, your call may be recorded or monitored for
quality and training purposes”. I had my own version of the same when some
sales person call me “Kindly note your call may be abused or cut for mental
quality and gaining purposes”

Cell phone becomes very common nowadays; almost every one of us has cell
phone. You may know that cell phone also create radiation when it is in
used. This radiation will harm our health especially our brain when we
close the cell phone to our ear. And if you’re saved by its radiation, the
ring tone will kill you.

Imagine a scenario during a serious office meeting. Everybody is pretending
to be attentive, the mood is tense and then suddenly a mobile rings “Last
Christmas” by George Micheal. This is indeed what happened in one of our
meetings. Unfortunately the guy whose mobile rang had to spend the next
Christmas at home.

This morning, I had the (mis)fortune of running out of balance on my
prepaid number and reach the end of the month’s grace period on my postpaid
one, and at 9 in the morning, I was ‘temporarily disconnected’ from the
entire world. It was such a beautiful feeling – I became nostalgic and went
up on the terrace, placed both my phones in front of me and danced around
in my shorts singing ‘It’s My Life’ and screaming,

                    “You can’t ring and ruin my life!
                    You can’t ring and ruin my life!
                             I control you!
                            Tra-la-la-laaa….
                You can’t ring… You can’t ruin my life…”

Just as the chorus built up a bit and I became more and more animated, one
of the phones beeped. I stopped mid-sentence, “I contr” and stared at the
pair of life-ruiners in front of me. One of them definitely had beeped. Was
I dreaming? I went closer, slowly, hesitantly, and saw that my Motorola
phone was flashing “1 New Message”.

How could this be? I knew for a fact that there was no balance in either of
the phones. I couldn’t receive messages! This was not possible! Then, it
struck me that if this phone could receive messages, then what’s stopping
it from ringing! I let out a guttural scream of pain, grabbed both the
phones and ran inside. When I flipped the phone open, the message was from
my boss and it read, “Robin, can’t reach you. Please call.”

I felt like a moron as I stood in line, trying to recharge both the phones,
a few hours later.

The Kasab Circus, And A Peek Into The Future

So the media circus around Kasab got over on 6th May 2010.

Many people have already picked up the pieces of their broken lives and
moved on, some will probably find some closure with his verdict, and some
will never be able to move on. And that’s that. He’s got a security that
might shame Lalit Modi, Lavish meals that would give a complex to the Queen
of England, Stationery that will put JK Rowling to shame.

But does the matter end here? Well no!

There’s the small matter of there being no hangman available. So here’s how
things might pan out in the next few years…

Oct 2011: Various appeals by Kasab for commutation of the sentence are
rejected. Finally, the sentence stands.

Jan 2012: Ooops, no hangman.

Oct 2012: Still no hangman

Apr 2013: Government decides to fill the vacant hangman positions. A Local
Politician wants only locals to even think of applying. “Others who even
think of applying will face action, Local style.”

Oct 2013: 3 candidates have been selected from amongst the 1673489
applicants (including engineers, lawyers and MBAs). But some disgruntled
applicant who was not selected filed a lawsuit alleging irregularity in the
selection procedure.

Apr 2016: The courts finally throw out the lawsuit and lift the stay on the
appointment of 3 selected candidates. But now there are only 2, as the 3rd
candidate has become a ward boy in a government hospital.

Jul 2016: Another lawsuit filed by an NGO demanding that the hangings take
place in the chronological order of sentencing.

Oct 2016: The government agrees that the sanctity of the queue on death row
be maintained.
Oct 2020: The backlog is finally over, Afzal (Afzal Guru - December 2001
attack on the Indian Parliament) is still ignored, but Kasab’s turn is
here.
Jan 2021: A leading TV channel exposes a scam in the procurement of the
hangman’s noose and prisoner’s hood. Opposition demands the PM resign,
stalls parliament for 6th day in succession, and the talking heads slug it
out on TV. Couple of officials transferred. A committee constituted to look
into this. Opposition is now desperate – tones down its demand – now wants
somebody, anybody to resign. Nobody obliges.

Oct 2025: The Committee submits its report. No concrete proof of
irregularities found. The hangings can continue.

Jan 2026: Human right groups make a concerted effort to abolish the death
penalty. Endless chatter on TV news convinces the government to dither on
this issue.

Jan 2030: Government still undecided on death penalty.

Apr 2035: Kasab chokes to death on a piece of his mutton biryani. He was
also high on drugs, which is why he could not call for medical assistance
on his cell phone. Turned out he called an escort agency by mistake. Their
services were not needed – he was quite stiff by the time they got to his
cell.

Oct 2040: Afzal’s still waiting…..

The BIG Fat Indian Arranged Marriage...

Act 1

 The drama unfolds when an uncle or aunt's comments[rather a snide remark]

 make our parents think that their kid is getting really old and it's time

he/she stops enjoying life. After all happiness is not everything in life.

So they conclude we are ready for the holy union. The same uncles and aunts

     are then used for broadcasting the availability of an eligible

                   bachelor/spinster in the household.

 Act II

The show starts with a bang. With phrases like "Fair,slim,goodlooking girl

 wanted"(for a Bappi Lahiri look alike)... or a "Boy with decent family

 background and clean habits"(for a girl who idolizes Rakhi Sawant) going

                around in matrimonial columns or portals.

 Act III

The verification, validation and elimination round. Innumerable matches are

 browsed and are eliminated based on pedigree [The Aunt says: The bride's

 sister's brother-in-law is married to a person from another community it

                       seems..How blasphemous!!].

Mars is in second house and Venus is in 4th house, that's a bad combination

for a horoscope you see. If we marry this person there will be bad luck for

 the next 14 generations. The groom's father, mother, brother, sister and

 puppy will get a cardiac arrest, a tsunami will strike from the flush and

     engulf the house. No way we can take a person with this kind of

             horrorscope !! -- This is what the uncle says.

A year passes by … they get bored and lose hope with this act and still the

            search continues. Well it goes like this.........

First the parents would have started off with the search string 'Beautiful

 mangalorean girl looking out for good-looking mangalorean boy preferably

  professionally qualified'...then due to lower success rate it is now

     changed to 'Beautiful mangalorean bride looking for mangalorean

 professionally qualifed groom'. With not much success either the search

  criteria is transformed to ' mangalorean girl looking for mangalorean

 boy'...then at a later point changes to a boy. Finally the search is like

    Bridegroom wanted..caste, community no bar(Wah! wah!what a broad

  mindedness)...this implies to all castes, communities and creeds(last

     survey counted more than 50 thousand castes in my state alone)

ACT IV

 At last the wedding gets fixed with some compromise or the other. Then

comes the huge cost involved in an arranged marriage. The bride's & groom's

    side competes in building up a crowd. Hence we can see old pals,

school/tuition teachers, plumbers, car mechanics, newspaper boy anyone and

everyone who the bride or groom's side knows. We need witnesses for once in

a lifetime occurrence you see. Of course jewels, silk saris and 'n' number

           of food varieties are there in the list by default.

 The compromises too are not reached without a reason. The color and looks

of the bride determines the dowry rate (let's not be so naive..It’s called

 kanyadhaan. The fair & slim girl conditions can be compromised if a few

                            bucks are passed.

 ACT V

 Post all the drama and tamasha slowly the truth starts sinking in for the

 boy and girl. The boy thinks his wife is extremely beautiful, caring and

would bear him kids who would win Dereck O’Brian quiz contests. But she may

turn out to be someone who hates guy's who has parents or someone who won’t

get a proper sleep if she hasn't heard the sound of her hubby's credit card

                         being swiped every day.

  And the girl who was expecting this caring and sensitive husband, may

 realize her man is as caring as Emperor Nero and the sense part..well he

 may be someone whose idea of a fashion icon is govinda and the only sport

 he plays is throwing pop-corn into his mouth as he watches IPL,ICL,India

 Vs.Holland, Ranji trophy and any cricket match played on the television.

Final ACT

The man and woman realize there is no way to get out of this and either end

up loving each other, probably sympathizing with the other’s plight Or they

 keep the marriage intact by remaining single deep inside their hearts.

Yes yes.. accepted arranged marriages have a positive side too. It's like a

 huge family reunion and two unconnected families coming together..where

 else can we expect the guy serving sambhar or one giving you rose milk to

  be a distant relative and gives aptitude books a run for the money in

                   solving the blood relations puzzle.

With all its pitfalls and drawbacks the show still goes on with the BIG Fat

                        Indian arranged marriage.

Save the Tiger!

While the already abysmal Tiger population of the country continues to
decrease – the only thing the government can do besides running campaigns
that no one watches on Doordarshan is announcing new ways of conducting a
census. This time instead of measuring pug marks they’ve turned to
measuring the excrement of tigers.
The problem can be traced back to when India decided to deport the British
in the name of independence. So what exactly happened? Simple – they made
the tiger the national animal.
A quick survey of all things national in our country reveals the state of
despair they are in:
Sport – Hockey (Destroyed due to lack of governance and by the Board of
Control of Cricket)
Flower – Lotus (We eat the stem and let the petals rot away in their
surrounding muck)
Bird – Peacock (Reduced to being a bookmark and exotic meat)
Song – Vande Mataram (legally banned by a community)
Anthem – Jana Gana Mana (Contentious given the lack of Telengana and
Jharkhand representation)
Network – Doordarshan (Hasn’t produced a programme worth watching since
Jaspal Bhatti’s Flop Show)
Museum – In Delhi (When was the last time anyone went there?)
So is there any surprise they haven’t managed to save the Tiger? As with
any other national thing – people really don’t care. What they do care
about however – is god. There is perhaps no better civic example of
preventing people from defecating on the streets than by installing images
of gods on public walls.
The Tiger doesn’t even get enough credit as monkey’s, elephants and rats.
We all know the monkey issue. Ever since Dara Singh played Hanuman in the
first rendition of TV Ramayana – Indians have happily allowed monkeys to
ravage cities and human beings. Terrorists attacking the Parliament is
obviously a big no no; but if a stray monkey who likes living there bites a
minister – that’s a sign from the gods that you’ll be in power for a very
long time!
The first time India hosted an international sports meet (Asian Games 84)
the mascot was the Elephant (The Appu) as compared to the Tiger (Shera –
who comes up with these joke names parading as ethnic heritage?) who only
got a chance in 2010. Perhaps they knew the condition of the Tiger would be
as good as their stadiums?
More recently the government of India recently announced no elephants will
be kept in zoos anymore since they are best served by being in their
natural habitat. Now personally I don’t agree. Elephants have a better
chance of staying alive in zoos and walking our city streets as compared to
being killed for their tusks in the jungle. But still – given that you
can’t piss off Mayawati (whose election symbol is a big lumbering elephant
crushing its opponents) elephants have to go back to their naturally
friendly environment where everyone would call it Jumbo.
Forget elephants. Even rats get more respect. Go to half the Hindu places
of worship where rats are revered as one of god’s greatest creations.
So given that we have scientific and anthropological data that Indians
don’t mess with god - why has the Tiger not been converted into some god
yet? Why can’t the RSS and VHP come out with guidelines for saving the
Tigers instead of allowing their crushed bones to be part of el-cheapo
Chinese aphrodisiacs? Every time I see an Indian and Chinese comparison on
TV depicting a Tiger fighting a Dragon – it only reminds me that the tiger
is getting extinct. It’s time to drop that box of Kelloggs Frosties and
urge your local community to create Tiger awareness all around. Who knows –
maybe the movement will spread and people will start worshipping it and
maybe we’ll end up saving a few.
It’s a real pity that the group that has gotten our national animal the
most publicity the last 20 years was a Sri Lankan terror outfit. Funnily –
they too are now virtually extinct.

How to - lose your irritating partner

A friend of mine who is a dab hand at talking nonstop about the evils of

arranged marriages once asked me – “How will you know a girl in a ten

minutes meeting? Look at me. If a guy comes to see me, will he ever come to
know in those ten minutes that the pitch of my scream can put a
professional soprano to shame?”

This left me in a state of (men)tation. How easy is it for the girls to
lose a guy whom they don’t like at all OR whom they have overgrown. It’s
not hard really. So, to extend the olive branch of chivalry to all the
damsels in distress who are dying to free themselves from the clutches of
an unwanted relationship, here’s a quick guide…

                            How to Lose a Guy

Here is a list of certain “types” of girls which the guys (generally) can’t
stand.

The Laughter Queen : Some girls are just too loud. Just crack a joke and
their laughter will wake up the dead. Guys hate such girls. A girl’s
laughter should be a sweet, syrupy, melodic vibrations of the vocal chords
which should remind one of tinkling wind chimes. So just go HAHAHAHA in a
quite place like a restaurant or a theatre and you won’t find the guy near
you the next time.

The Emotive cow : Guys hate women who cry at the drop of hat. You just have
to get extra emotional on spotting a poor puppy snooping around in a
garbage dump or ask the guy to go out and get some extra tissues while you
cry while watching an emotional movie while he never wanted to see in the
first place. Also when he forgets to call you at 12 am to say “Good Night
sweetie pie” because there was a cricket match, just call him up the next
morning and start crying and ask him at least ten times whether he loves
you or not. That will do the trick.

The Disinclined irritant : Argue. Belittle. Hesitate. Fight. Just say no to
everything he chooses. “How is this shirt?” “Gross!!!” “How do you like
these earrings for yourself?” “Are you crazy!!(give him the are-you-crazy
look)” “Chaat?” “Dimsums.” Guys don’t like it for too long when someone
argues like this. I hate it too. (Embedded image moved to file:
pic25824.jpg)

The Too much Career oriented : Start giving the guy an impression that you
can go to any extend to have a successful career. Even if it means going
abroad, marrying late or higher studies. Very soon you will see the beads
of panic on his head. Guys hate girls who are over ambitious and if he says
that all the goals of a successful career can be achieved after marriage
also, give him that are-you-crazy look again splashed with a spoonful of
you-must-be-kidding look. (Embedded image moved to file: pic29334.jpg)

The tee-hee-hee : This is a hard one to explain. Some girls are just too
“girly”, if you can understand that. They would go “ouch” even if their
finger brushes a wall, they would go “Wow” when all they have seen is a
squirrel climbing a tree and they would go “Oh my God” when the car hits a
tinywiny bump on the road which no one else would have noticed. Such girls
consider themselves to be too sensitive to their surroundings and will
always laugh with a hand on their lips which appears magically as soon as
the lips are parted. This is one category which irritates me to no ends.

The Heroine : This category is very similar to the tee-hee-hees with a
major difference. They are faking it. Tee-hee-hees are genuine
tee-hee-hees. They can’t help it. But Heroines are fake tee-hee-hees. This
is the hardest category to be and you have to be really good to get this
one right. I have known one girl who was an expert in this and believe me
you can’t do it better than her

The Flirt : Who likes a girlfriend who flirts with other boys and compare
you with them? But Beware!! Trying to achieve your goal by being a flirt
may lead to confrontations. This is the easiest way performance-wise but
things might get really murky later on. I would suggest that you start with
the other categories and keep this as a last resort.

The Lady-In-Charge : Guys like it when a girl is submissive and let the guy

take on all the worldly responsibilities like talking to the auto-driver,

buying movie tickets, ordering the meals, paying the bills and asking for
directions. So if you really want to piss off the guy, just don’t let him
do all this. Take charge of the situation and make him stand in the
background while you deal with the big bad world.

The Tulsi(Family worshipper) : Bore the guy with minute details about your
family. From your sister’s toothache to your mom’s sudden change in her
hair stylist to your brother’s weird choice of underwear colours, tell him
everything. And, when he starts to tell you about his own family, just cut
him off in-between and start blabbering about your family again. Believe
me, he will hang himself in two days.

The Gay a.k.a “L” : Of course, if you are in a real hurry and can’t breathe
in the guy’s presence, go ahead and tell him that you are a “L”. Tell him
that you fantasize Bipasha and had a steady girlfriend sometime back and
you were just experimenting with the poor guy. Run away before he starts
crying




                           How to Lose a Girl

EAT GARLIC – Need I say how to eat garlic and when to use it?

TELL HER YOU LOVE SOMEONE ELSE

If you ever try to say this to your girl friend you have to make sure you
are atleast 5 feet away from her. It is advisable to have a single tea with
bun from the local tea shop before doing this.My friend once used this
trick to lose his girl and The next thing he knew was found sleeping on a
hospital bed lying flat on his tummy. He was about to be taken in for a
minor procedure in order to remove a Size 7 High heel shoe that was
embedded 5 inches deep into his rear (which could have been 3 inches if he
had the tea and bun and caused himself to constipate). It is one (Divine)
feeling when something comes out of back and it is another (brutal) feeling
when sharp things are pushed inside.

TELL HER YOU ARE TRANSFERRED

This is a highly specific case and will work only on a certain class of
Individuals who work in a transfer prone job like District Collector, Sub
Inspector, or a Software Engineer. Under normal circumstances, a person
hearing this comment will be hanging upside down from the Tamarind tree
just to let out the feeling of anger and shame from his brain.

TELL HER YOU DRINK AND SMOKE

If you don’t really do something, you have to be careful when you lie about
it. My best friend most people would call in college as Fruit face. The
most intoxicating experience he has ever had was by drinking the spoilt
milk (served as curd) in the hostel mess. So obviously his excuse of being
a drunk moron who lets out smoke from every opening in his body didn’t
strike too well.

TELL HER YOU ARE GAY:

This is a commonly misunderstood reverse trap. While this works on Men, it
really doesn’t work on Women. This is because a guy’s brain is filled with
nothing but the 3 letters X,S,E (not in that order) while a Woman’s brain
is filled with A-Z, a-z, 0-9,!@#$%^&*() 8,765,917 times (same as number of
copies sold, Pay attention! and oh, not in that order).

Horn OK Please!

Often while travelling in Mumbai, at every traffic light – major or minor –
I see people jump lights with impunity. And it is not just the usual
suspects –i.e., the autos and the cabs. Two-wheelers, cars of every make
and size (self-driven and chauffeured), BEST buses (serious offenders) and
the occasional Mumbai police Bolero/Qualis – basically anyone who can jump
a light, does. Not that the other aspects of driving fare any better. But
at least, until a year or so ago, it seemed like while Mumbai drivers never
followed any other rule, the red light was still the last un-breached
frontier. It seems we have changed!

India has some appalling road-fatality statistics. According to the 2007
report of World Road Statistics (WRS), India ranked number two with 94,985
people killed in road accidents. As in most other things nowadays, we were
piped to the post by China, which lost 98,738 citizens.

Given our disregard for rules and our ignorance of the concept of
self-restraint, I have attempted to create a list of suggestions to make
our driving better, safer and less stressful. Please feel free to add to
this list.

  1. Our Government should ban the manufacture of car horns. So every new
     car will come without a horn.

  2. At each intersection or crossing, introduce barrier
     gates/arms/turnpikes, like at a level crossing. Only the sides with
     the green lights will have their gates raised, the others will be
     shut, and so people will not be able to jump red lights. Of course,
     the barriers will have to be solid and extend all the way to the
     ground, so as to prevent two-wheeler riders from tilting their
     vehicles at 30? and sliding under the barrier.

  3. Lanes should have dividers at least 12” high – this way we ensure
     that all drivers stick to their lanes. No cutting! Of course, if the
     guy in front decides to pick up a passenger, or generally stop to
     leisurely spit out of the window, you’re in a situation. But you can
     always beat him up. That’s still legal….or should be.

  4. The horn should be banned

  5. Indicators should be connected to the steering wheel. The moment the
     wheel moves more than 5? in either direction, the relevant indicator
     starts flashing.

  6. Windows can’t be lowered while driving. This will take care of all
     spitting and “throwing-cans-out-of-the-car’ instances.

  7. Driving licenses should only be issued after tests. I have always
     heard rumors of such a system. Will somebody please tell me if that’s
     true?

  8. Driving licenses should not, by law, be issued to the blind. From
     personal experience, it seems that our country has the highest number
     of optically-challenged drivers on the road.

  9. The horn should be banned.

  10.      No more than 364,566 pedestrians, 35 cows and 12 dogs to be
     allowed at any point of time per one-kilometer stretch of road.

  11.      The hi-beam headlight should be banned in vehicles that have
     headlights.

  12.      Vehicles should not be permitted to be overloaded beyond 500%
     capacity. (Of course, this does not apply to trains.) This rule
     should be strictly enforced.

  13.      Children under 12 should not be allowed to drive without a
     valid driving license.

  14.      Driving the wrong way in the path of oncoming traffic should be
     discouraged. More than 10 such instances should result in the
     cancellation of the offender’s driving license. If the offender did
     not have a driving license, he should not be issued one.

  15.      The horn should be banned

I realize that for most of us, rules like these will take the fun out of
driving. So every weekend, we should allow people to come to a huge field
in (or with) their vehicles of choice. (Handcarts, ponies, the occasional
elephant, bicycles, dumpers, trucks, buses and tankers are all allowed.)
Pedestrians, beggars and hawkers should also be encouraged to participate
and generally mill around the field to better simulate Indian road
conditions. Then each person should be allowed to drive his vehicle within
the field in any manner or direction he chooses.

That way, we can still be true to our genes.

19 Tips on Surviving Life in Modern India

Here are some pointers on leading a happy life in the India MNC’s, Pizza
Hut, DLF, and Road Rage.

Here we go…

1. Don’t buy anything without bargaining. Nothing. It is just against the
Indian spirit. If your kid asks for a school trip to Egypt, propose
Aurangabad. If he turns out to be a bargainer, raise the offer to Jaipur.

2. Have lots of kids. You must have a doctor, a lawyer, a police officer,
and a magistrate in the family. Can’t rely on outsiders anymore.

3. Do not watch TV. The “K” channels dedicated to the cause of social
injustice and women empowerment; you’ll get bored. Krishi Darshan on DD is
more entertaining.

4. Forget that you have a middle finger. We are a peace loving country; no
obscenities here please.

5. Chai-Paani is not really tea and water. Seriously, who would drink tea
and water together? Even kids know what it means.

6. The media is the new government. If you lose as much as a dog, just call
up Aajtak. If you can convince them to take up your cause, rest assured a
dog will be found, yours or not.

7. When in trouble, claim you are from the media. Nobody messes with the
media.

8. Get blocked on Twitter by Chetan Bhagat. You don’t belong to the
intelligentsia till you can offend the greatest writer of our times enough
to grant you this status symbol.

9. Everything can be outsourced in our country. Get a maid, a cook, a
driver, a gardener, a body guard, someone to pick your trash. You’ll even
find a qualified people to walk your dogs. They are aplenty, and come
cheap.

10. It is not law and order. Its law and disorder. Never bother calling up
100. Most likely it will go unanswered, which truly is the best case
scenario for you.

11. Do not argue with your sabzi-wallah (vegetable vendor). If he gets
pissed, he will just not sell to you but also make sure no sabzi-wallah
sells you either.

12. Anything can be blamed on Pakistan. Didn’t do your homework – the
Pakistanis stole it. Made mistakes in the homework – the Pakistanis stole
it and returned a wrong copy.

13. While out and about, make sure you know the name of the area
ACP/DCP/Head Constable. If a cop stops you, claim that Mr ACP is your
maternal uncle. And please please please also hope the person you name
isn’t the one who has stopped you. In which case, god be with you.

14. Don’t go out during the day. Too much traffic. Also, don’t go out in
the night. There’s rapists everywhere.

15. Know your cricket. You must know the names of all IPL teams,
Tendulkar’s test average, and the marital status of all Indian players. A
strong opinion on match fixing will be helpful. If you think short leg is
related to a flat foot, then this one needs a lot of work.

16. Never crib about how bad things are in India. Especially if you are a
non resident. We don’t like outsiders blowing the cover.

17. You can never bad mouth Shahrukh Khan. He has a private army of
millions all over the country. For your own safety, claim to be an SRK fan
wherever you go. Add that to your introduction. “Myself, Robin Almeida. 5
years experience in Java, including 4 months and 12 days onsite. Big fan of
Shahrukh Khan.”

18. You will be frisked wherever you go. The mall, the movies, the metro,
haldirams, the library. Everywhere. Don’t complain – it’s for your own
good.

19. If you believe in god, rest assured you will lead a happy life in
India. With over a million gods, you can get a dedicated hot line to one of
them. Just make sure you do the needful at the local place of worship.

There. Follow these tips and you will live happily ever after. Just don’t
forget my chai paani for showing the path.

An Evening at the Dentist’s Clinic

I’m sure this has happened to everyone. There no point pretending that I’m
the only person in the whole wide world this sort of incident has happened
to.

There I was, innocently biting into my Gulab Jamun while watching
Madagascar 2: Escape to Africa, on my laptop, when a shooting pain in my
teeth forced me to drop the bowl of thick sugar syrup all over my bare
legs. Nothing fell on my laptop thankfully, and I spent the rest of the
morning cleaning the room and myself. Only later did I realize that my
teeth needed to be checked by a dentist.

So, that evening, I walked over to a nearby clinic and got an appointment
for a later time that same evening. I walked in at the appointed hour and
sat on a plush couch, reading a copy of the latest Outlook magazine and
getting rapidly bored.

I must have dozed off because the receptionist shook me vigorously and told
me that the doctor was ready for me. In my groggy state, I yawned and
mumbled, “Finally. Thank you,” when she slapped me hard. I was stunned. I
held my cheek where she’s slapped me and said, “What did you say??”

Now, a normal human being would’ve asked this before slapping someone, but
she was a rare creature I guess.

“I said ‘Finally, thank you’ ” I told her angrily, still clutching my face.

“Oh!” she said, eyes widened in shock and apology. “I thought you said some
swear word. You mumbled so I couldn’t hear properly! I’m sorry! I’m really
sorry!”

Leaving her in the subservient state, I walked into the dentist’s room. He
was sitting in the center of the room on a stool, placed in front of a
horrifying dentist’s chair, which had all the evil accouterments one
usually associates with the murderous, villainous doctors in horror movies
– gleaming silver instruments that were sharp enough to rip someone’s
brains out through their noses. I gulped and stood there.


He saw me clutching my face and said, “Hurts, does it?”

“What?” I said, confused, and realized that I was still holding my face. I
quickly put my hand down and said, “No no, your receptionist slapped me
just now.”

He didn’t seem surprised. “Third one today,” he said resignedly. “I have to
fire her. Anyway, take a seat, please,” he said pointing to the torture
chair. I looked strangely at him and sat down. He said, “Okay, let me see…”
and shined a flashlight into my mouth and peered around. I could see the
bright overhead light and the dentist’s masked silhouette as he assessed my
dental strength.

“There’s some plaque,” he said. “I’ll get my associate to do something
about it,” and he walked out, leaving me in the chair, mouth open, with a
torture device sticking out of it. I twirled my thumb and waited until a
short, stocky woman came in and started poking around in my mouth with a
metal device that hurt like hell.

Five minutes later, it was all over and she announced, “We’ve removed the
plaque. That’ll be 1200 rupees.”

So, I paid up and walked out and I couldn’t help but feel that I’d been
cheated out of something. As soon as I stepped out, I saw the brilliance of
the dentist’s business plan – his clinic was right next to a bakery! I
could see breads and cakes and doughnuts calling out to me from within and
cursing my weak will, I went in and bought a fresh sugar doughnut and bit
into it. Just as I was about to wipe the sugar crumbs off my face, the
short, stocky woman dentist walked into the same bakery, bought some sweets
and gave me a knowing smile and walked out.

“Damn”, I said to myself as I walked back home, enjoying my doughnut.

Poem - Healthy n Happy on Mumbai Roads

Why is a Mumbaikar happy n healthy?
You got to come and see.....
Just being on the roads of Mumbai
Keeps one as FIT as can be!
A Mumbaikar gets his neck exercises
And boy! he gets it in style....
When as he drives his two-wheeler
He balances his mobile!
Placed precariously is the instrument
Between his neck and the shoulder blade
He gets his Neck Exercises alright
Just the perfect grade!
Our roads are dotted with potholes
Which routinely exercises our spine...
It is this permanent road condition
That keeps it super fine!
Watch OUT!!!! For the BEST Buses
They surprise you indeed!
They whoooosh in from all the sides
They come in with great speed....
And by doing so, the Good Samaritans....
Let you toss n turn n warp
But in the process, gentle reader,
They keep your reflexes sharp!
We Mumbaikars are a blessed lot
We get an excellent eye exercise, you know,
You have to rotate them all the while
While you are on the go!
Many a times we communicate
Strictly with our EYES alone
“I am turning, by heck! YOU will wait...”
Our communication skills we hone!
When rickshaws from enter every corner,
NOPE! You will not honk in vain
Your deep breathing exercises you start
If you want to remain sane!
While traffic snarls keep you engaged
And precious fuel you burn
Patience and endurance skills
Are added bonus - you earn!
If you are a pedestrian....
Only the fittest - welcome aboard
Not meant for the weak n meek
No- Not one Mumbai Road!
Because you got to be the fittest
And perform near impossible feats
You beat the best of nimble goats
To cross the Mumbai Streets!
So fit n healthy, deliriously happy
That’s how we merrily stay.....
If , dear reader, you are on the roads of Mumbai
You are a winner all the way!

Sandra @ Bandra

I met Ms. Sandra Monteiro at her stall outside the Mount Mary church a few
months ago. It was a chance meeting that summer day since my friend roshan
and I hadn’t planned on visiting the church when we reached in Bandra on a
late May afternoon. There, Sandra Monteiro smiled at me when I stepped into
her stall. As we got talking, she told me that she hails from Verna, in
Goa. I asked her if she manages to visit Goa. She said, "Yes. yes. I do."
Then she told me that she will be visiting Saligao (a Goan town) the next
month, in June. “I visit Goa once a year to meet my relatives,” she added.

It was early evening when we took the turn past the Bandra Bandstand on our
way to the Mount Mary Church in Bandra. The monsoon was three weeks away
but clouds straggled across the sky from the west, in ones, twos, and
threes, sometimes more. In days to come more would follow. The rickshaw
labored up the hill, flanked on either side by residential high-rises and
bungalows that sat pretty facing the sea a short distance away. I read
Parsi names on a building or two. I like Parsi names. Jeejabhoy, Merchant,
Taraporewalla, Daruwalla. As we motored up, every once in a while I saw
people gathered on terraces facing the sea, gazing fixedly at the ocean.

Mid-way up the hill, the road narrowed; I cannot quite remember if it was
because of a tree, or on account of road repairs. Vehicles coming down the
slope showed little consideration for those going up the incline, blocking
way and forcing us into braking, losing momentum. The rickshaw stalled in
its attempt to drag us up the incline, it had lost power, eventually I
asked the driver to return to the base of the hill and give it another shot
up. We turned back and rode down, and waited until there was no vehicle
coming down the hill and gave it full power. He left us on the road passing
by the Mount Mary church.


Outside the church, stalls selling candles and wax dolls line the compound
wall enclosing the church on either side of the narrow entrance leading up
to the church. The compound wall has the same feel as the façade of the
church, made of stones demarcated by white lines. The church is dedicated
to Mother Mary, whose statue Jesuit priests brought from Portugal in the
16th century and constructed the chapel on the mount in 1640 where they
housed it. The church was rebuilt in 1761 after the original Chapel of
Mount Mary was destroyed in what is believed to be a Maratha raid in 1738.
The statue of Mother Mary was shifted back to the rebuilt church from St.
Andrews church where it was temporarily installed after fishermen found it
in the sea. The original statue was re-adorned with the child in her arms
after marauding Arab pirates cut off the hand to get at the gilt-lined
figure of the child in her arms.

Sandra Monteiro was alone in her stall. She was dressed in a frock and had
a kind face. When I first met her on alighting in front of the church, I
had a feeling she was originally from Goa. Time had etched its passage on
her face. Hers was a makeshift stall. Candles coloured white, dark blue,
light blue, red, and orange, hung from hooks looped around a horizontal
bamboo support held up by bamboos fixed to the
ground.

In a basket by her side, wax figures shaped as hands, legs, spine, head and
other parts of the human body were neatly stacked along the circumference
of the rim. Actually, some of them were reclining as if resting easy while
enjoying the view of the sun going down. The setting sun opposite lit them
up in a translucent white. Devotees who come to Mount Mary to pray for
cures for their ailments offer the wax figure that corresponds to their
ailment. “Here, this one is for the stomach,” said Sandra Monteiro, showing
me a circular plate-like wax figure. “A patient suffering from a stomach
ailment will offer it at the church by setting it alight, and saying
prayers.” Then she held out a wax figure shaped like a back and said, “This
one is for a back ailment.” As we talked in konkani, a steady stream of
devotees came up to her stall to purchase candles, and the wax figures that
she refers to as baulis (bauli is konkani for doll). Devotees belong to all
religions, and their belief in Mother Mary’s powers to affect miracles is
absolute, drawing them to the church from long distances.

About then a middle-aged couple steps up to Sandra Monteiro’s stall asking
her in hindi if they should offer the wax bauli at the church now or after
they get a house. I listen on for I never get tired of a Goan Catholic
attempting hindi. It does not matter if they’ve lived in Mumbai for years,
like Bandra’s Christians with roots in Goa, have, their Hindi shows the
influence of konkani, lacing it with an edge that people up North would
find a touch arrogant, insulting even. She advises them to offer prayers at
the church for the house they hope to own someday, and return to the church
to offer the wax bauli after their prayers are answered. “We prepare all
these wax items at home,” she told me, “using molds.

“Baba accha sa pass hone ka,” (Baba should pass his exams well) she said to
the same couple who mentioned about their son who was appearing for his
exams. “You can pray for him at the church now, then offer a wax-book after
he does well in his exams,” she told them. On a wooden plank near the front
of the stall, she had stacked packets of gram. “My mother-in-law started
this business fifty years ago,” she told me, running her hand in an arc
indicating the stall she ran on her own. “She supported the entire family
from her earnings from this stall. She is originally from this place. After
I got married and came to Bombay, I helped her run this stall.”

I ask her how old is she.

“Sixty. To sixty, add three more,” she replied.

“Sixty-three?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling.

Sandra Monteiro lives in Bandra. Then she told me of her children and her
grand-children. I listened on, pausing only when customers stopped by her
stall to make purchases, watching her treat them kindly and answer their
queries patiently. The sun cast golden shafts our way, lighting up the
stall in a soft memory.

I purchased candles for five rupees, thanked her and said that I would
return to her stall with copies of her photographs. She smiled back,
nodding her head.

Train travel in India - Tips and Pointers

Train travel in India – Expectations, Tips and Pointers



Trains in India are usually divided into three categories:

Executive  Class coaches are badge A - for Arrogant, because that’s usually
how  the  uptight  passenger behaves like when his Veg. platter has one pea
too little.

Economy/AC  Chair  Car  coaches  are  sometimes  labeled  B - for Bechaare.
Bechaare  roughly  translates  to  poor souls. This is because they book AC
tickets thinking they'll travel in luxury that regular people can’t afford,
but end up getting stuck between fat aunties whose garnished suits itch and
whose wailing babies replicate the sound of Himesh Reshammiya.

Third is the Sleeper class - christened S. Need not explain more

For  an  authentic  Indian  railway  experience  - one must always travel S
Class. And for that, here are some key things to keep in mind.


1)  Just because you have a seat doesn't mean you can do what you want with
it.  Any random person will come and ask you to "Please adjust" even if you
don’t want to. Especially old women. DO NOT be nice to them. They are using
old  age  as  an excuse to cheat the government of its taxes - hence making
them anti-national.

2)  If  you’re  visibly  Muslim (i.e. wearing an outfit) and not travelling
between heavily concentrated poorer areas - be prepared to be stared at and
maybe questioned.

3)  If  you  are a Sikh travelling in an A or B class - you are expected to
wear tight jeans. If you are a Sikh travelling in S class, you are expected
to order butter chicken as a complimentary meal.

4) If you are Hindu - no matter what class you travel - you are expected to
pray 40 times within a one hour period while praising Rahul Gandhi.

5)  If  you are Christian – no matter what class you travel - you’ll hardly
find  any  Christians with big families (unless of course you’re travelling
Matsyagandha  Express  from Mumbai to Mangalore). They would any day prefer
roadways more than railways.

6)  If you’re travelling down south - you will be woken up at 4 AM by a guy
shouting "Kapi" in your ear.

7)  If  you’re  travelling up north - you will be woken up at 4 Am by a guy
shouting "Chai" in your ear.

8)  If  you are travelling anywhere above Mumbai excluding the North East -
there is a 65% chance of getting accosted by Eunuchs in the S class. Please
keep your money ready or prepare to get the craziest lap dance in history.

9) Trick: In any Indian train which serves food - they will ask if you want
Veg  or  Non Veg food. Always ask if they have a "Continental" meal. For 10
rupees  more  it’s  the  cleanest  and tastiest thing you can have which is
normally reserved for frequent travelers.

10)  Never  EVER  step  near the pantry unless you want to realize that the
crispy almond in your salad was a sun-dried cockroach.

11)  Practice  Yoga before your train journey. It is critical to be able to
balance  yourself  while  using  the bathroom. The margin for error is less
there.

12)  Avoid  washing your face early morning near the public sink unless you
want to see random men adjusting their pants and hair from the night before
in full amphitheatre view.

13)  Never stand near an open door for too long. That lovely fresh smell of
crops  can  quickly turn into a hard tilted electricity pole that will take
your head off.

14)  Never  pay  attention or make faces at little kids who keep staring at
you  as if you are a Chicken drumstick. Like stray dogs, the more you humor
them, the more they pester you.

15) Fluttering eyelashes go a long way if you have to adjust seats.

16)  Twist  your  mineral  water bottles after consumption so they can’t be
reused and don’t expect to reach anywhere on time.

And finally, whenever you get a chance, take a flight instead.

Hmmm…. Suicide

Cracking Call Centre Interviews

Big bucks, free passes to discs, home pick up and drop, state of the art offices, 0 balance Debit cards and many, many other benefits. Yes! Call centre jobs have them all. But did you know that only 2 out of 20 people actually clear the interview. So how does one get into that 'elite' 10% bracket? We at JAM have the answer. Here are the various rounds that are held in a typical call centre interview AND the ways to clear them:


Reading round: Here you are given a paragraph of 5 to 7 lines to read. While reading REMEMBER, don't sound deadpan but be loud and clear and speak with an authoritative and commanding voice. Don't read too fast or too slow. Brush up your words and sentences before the interview by reading magazines, newspapers or simply by reading JAM.

Ex-tempore round: You are given a topic on the spot and told to speak on it for 5 minutes. Remember that you don't have to speak only about the good points but can also point out the negative aspects of a given topic. Be loud and clear and just go on yapping about the topic. When given a topic, don't look confused or stare at the evaluator like how the local vendors and pedestrians stare at the foreigners at Colaba Causeway. Instead, just say "OK" or "All Right" and start yapping.

Group Discussion round: This round aims at testing the communication abilities of a candidate. Here the topics given are current, controversial topics. So it's like a debate. Keep in mind that after every two people have finished their views, you should speak. Express the same point in diferrent ways by twisting words and sentences. Repeat the same point someone else has said by adding "According to me" or "My personal opinion is". Keep saying the words "Absolutely right" or "I totally agree with you" at regular intervals. You can also say "Let's give our friends a chance to put forth their views" to the candidates who are quiet during the discussion. This will lead them to rate you as good in terrms of 'team-work' and 'co-operation'. Remember to have a commanding voice while expressing your point.

Aptitude test round: This is an online or written test. Generally, you have to complete the given questions in 15-20 minutes. The questions are mainly based on maths, sentence correction and general knowledge. It's a piece of cake as the questions are really easy and most clear this round.

Personal interview round: Remember to have a smile on your face and not look like a Devdas who has millions of troubles on his head. During the personal interview, just be yourself. Try to have a normal conversation with the interviewer just as you would have with your friends. Try not to be personal. If the interviewer asks, "Do you have any plans to study further ?" Even if you have any such intentions, say "NO". As soon as you enter, greet him with a "Hello, Good Morning" and not a "Hi". When asked about your family utter the full words "Mother, Father, Sister, etc." and not shortcuts like "Mom, Dad, Sis."

Understanding Conversation Round: Very few call centres have this round. Here you are made to listen to a tape of a sample conversation between two foreigners for 10 to 12 seconds. You have to note down that conversation on a piece of paper. Trust me, it's very simple. Start watching Friends, The Sipmsons, The Drew Carey show etc. to familiarise yourself with the American accent. That's the best and most fun way to learn.

Xtra tips: Remember to dress smart yet formal, not as if you're going for rugby practice or a fashion parade. Also remember not to carry a big huge backpack and look as if you are immigrating to some other land. Carry a small professional looking case instead - the more compact, the better. Avoid looking like a Government employee.

*All the above listed rounds may not be held in the same order as listed and may vary from one call-centre to another.

Call Center Transportation

Free transport is one of the best things about a call center job. Here's a comparative look at the home pick up and drop facilities provided by various BPOs.


Generally call centers provide home pick up/drop between 22.00hrs and 10.00hrs and station pick up/ drop between 10.00hrs and 22.00 hrs. Station pick up/ drop means that employees are picked up or dropped at specific stations along the western/ central railway line.

Some employees spend almost 4-5 hours to reach their home after their shift. In short they spend more than 12 hours at work. This takes a heavy toll on both their mental and physical health.

While Wipro Spectra Mind (WSM) has possibly "the best" transport facilities, those provided by E-serve and WNS are much below the mark. WSM has a huge fleet of buses, Sumos and Indicas, each with walkie-talkies for use in case of an emergency. A security guard accompanies female employees for the last home drop.

They have separate Sumos for individual areas/ stations i.e. one for Andheri, another for Bandra. This saves a lot of time as it greatly reduces the number of stops. On the other hand, E-serve dumps its employees from 10 different stations into one Sumo. For instance all employees residing between Vikhroli and Ambernath are put in one Sumo owing to which the vehicles are not only packed, they also takes a very of time to complete their route.

Along with WSM, Intelnet, GTL, Lawkim, Global, and Zenta provide the best transport. While on the other hand, if you've got an appointment letter from E-Serve, Daksh, WNS, and Adventity and hate long journeys, you might want to reconsider your options.

Side Effects of a Gulf Job if you are Single - Day 1

After a series of interviews, conference calls and online tests, I finally get my Job offer letter and my scanned Visa copy by e-mail.

Must say I was on the top of the world when I saw the subject line of the mail say ‘Offer Letter’.
But eeks! … when I opened the attachments it was all in Arabic! I assumed the pay must be as per the agreement. But for my satisfaction I took the calculator and converted the figure into 12 (we are aware of only one standard conversion rate for the Dirham). So after all the halla gulla of leaving the country, I said goodbye to all at home and finally boarded the flight from Mumbai to Abu Dhabi via Muscat.
I had heard a lot about Muscat from my uncles and aunties. (Every Mangalorean family has some uncle working in Muscat) I thought a transit journey would get me a detour of Muscat. After the flight attendants announcement that “We will be shortly landing at Muscat” people woke up and made sure all the freebies and free stuff given by the airline are in their bags.
I took a peak outside to see what Muscat looked like and saw nothing but mountains, mountains and more mountains! I was feeling too lazy to fasten the seat belt and just pretended that it was around me.
The plane touched ground in Muscat (The SEEB International Airport). The name somewhat sounds like ‘Seepz’ in Mumbai where I worked previously.
Anyways, the flight lands to give company to another Oman Air bird standing lonely at the airport.
The airport looked deserted and this scared me.
My connecting flight to Abu Dhabi was in 30 minutes and so I thought that the flight would be stationed somewhere at one corner of the airport. Thus I started hurrying and was looking for the instructions on the Airport television set.
“Gate 9 for the Abu Dhabi,” it said and I was desperately looking for Gate 9. I finally found it and made myself comfortable at the gate. But hey! Wait a minute! I could see the flight in which I landed from Mumbai. After 10 minutes they announced "The flight for Abu Dhabi is ready for Boarding, kindly keep your boarding cards ready." I searched in my bag and dug out the boarding card in the middle of some Tiffin boxes packed by mom.
When the gate opened they took us towards the same flight from the back door. I began wondering what trouble was in store for me. They made us get down from the front door and get us back inside in another 10 minutes from the back door. Sounds funny isn’t it.
After almost an hours journey we land at Abu Dhabi. Ah, this airport looks like an airport I said to myself – some flights here and there. Outside the plane, a beautiful lady was standing with a signboard that spelt my name. I told her "that's me". She said "Assalamu- Alaikum", I replied "Thank You."
She gave me a weird look. I did not know that we are supposed to reply "Salaam" to the greeting. Anyways she assisted me with all the formalities and left me outside the airport and got me in a taxi.
After a sad farewell and a 25-minute drive, I reached my hotel. My apartment was on the 13th floor and offered a beautiful view of the sea. The room service personnel helped me with the luggage inside the apartment. Once done, he waited near the door. I saw him and wondered as to why he is waiting. Then I realized he wanted a tip.
I search my pockets and came out with some coins, calling cards, boarding cards and lots of Indian 10 rupee notes. The hotel boy was a Philippines (there are a lot of Philippines public into the hospitality industry here in Abu Dhabi). Looking at one 50 Rupee note, he said.
"Indian money is good". I said to myself “what the heck, here you go – I hope you don't come and hit me when you convert that into dirham."
After settling down with the luggage I thought of having a bath to get fresh. The bathroom was elegant and had a tub. I was not used to tubs as buckets were the order so far. Trying to figure out some way for almost 2 hours I finally got into it.
Well all is well that ends well! After 20 minutes inside the tub and almost 10 liters of water outside the tub spilled out by me, I got fresh.
Dragged my way out to the living room and put on the TV. Since it was a new hotel, all the channels were Arabic. For almost 2 hours, I was busy trying to find a channel in the language that I could understand. I settled down with some ‘panpole’ (pancakes) and chicken curry that mom had made and said, Good Night!

Keep Connected with your Teens..

Communicating with youngsters gets more challenging as they get older. Here are some suggestions to improve your relationship with your teenager. You will discover even more meaningful ways to maintain and deepen the bond with your teen.


A Compliment a Day
Give teens just one compliment each day for one month and then record any differences in your relationship with them. Without exception, these "compliment prescriptions" always result in an improved relationship by the end of the month. The compliments should not be forced (fake) and do not have to be on a grand scale. Comments like "Your hair looks great that way”, “ I like the way you have rearranged your room, it really reflects your personality” will really work wonders.

Don't dismiss your teen's broken heart
Don't treat your teen's broken heart in a dismissive manner with mundane clichés like it's no big deal, "There are plenty of fish in the sea”, “He/she didn't deserve you anyway” or What can you know about being in love at 15?" Remember, when you were a teen how you felt when you got dumped by your first love? Empathize your teen, be understanding and give a shoulder to lean on!

Memories strike a Chord
Surprise your teen with a scrapbook of pictures that you've taken of him/her, from babyhood to his/her present age. If you have them, include a few pictures of you and him/her together. It strikes a immediate chord that will help building a strong bonding.

Go on a “date”
Ask your teen if you could share a regular "date" with him every couple of weeks (or every week if he/she is game), where the two of you go out for lunch or to see a movie. What's most important is your expressing a desire to do something or spending more time with him/her.

Involve your teen
Get your teen involved in family decisions such as what colour to paint the house, which car to purchase, which vacation spots to visit, etc,. that makes the teen feel being wanted and cared for at home.

Volunteer together
Establish a family volunteer tradition, where you both volunteer together at least once a month at places like a family shelter, children's hospital or nursing home.

Don't shut them out
If a family member is sick, encourage your teen to spend time with him/her. They might be scared or hesitant initially to visit them. But they do not want to be shut out from seeing family members whom they have loved all their lives. Give them realistic picture of what to expect and accompany them if you sense they need your presence.

Appreciation counts
Write your teen occasional notes of appreciation, gratitude and love, and leave them in sealed envelopes on his/her pillow. It is sure to make a lot of difference in their attitude towards you.

More than words
Use a picture of your teen or one of you and your teen as your computer's screensaver. Consider what that might signify to him/her. Every time you or he/she uses the computer, there he/she is. It's another version of keeping a picture of her in your wallet, but with much more visible impact.

Tips to stay connected
Communication and understanding are crucial to every facet of a parent-child relationship. Here are some helpful hints on how to cultivate respect from your kids:
• Keep communicating with your teens, even if they don't seem to be listening. Talk about topics that interest them. Respect and ask their opinions.
• Give them privacy. That doesn't mean you can't knock on their door when you want to talk.
• Set limits on their behaviour based on your values and principles. They will grudgingly respect you for this.
• Continually tell them and make it know that you believe in who they are rather than what they accomplish.