iblogged

Bored. Very bored. That’s how I’m feeling today. Too bored even to mention how I felt the same, yesterday and the day before. There! I’ve done it. So maybe I’m not that bored after all.
So let me quickly replace the word bored with the more apt, lazy.
Let’s re-read the first para with this alteration.
Hmmm… better. Much better.

The long weekend crawls closer. Have no mega plans lined up to nail it. And looking at the way Arun’s sprawled on his sofa in his cabin, it’s quite evident that I am not alone. Yesss!

Talking of Arun. The self-appointed tech savvy, alpha male got himself an ipod the other day. And the herd mentality was not to be left out here as well, so the other pillar of technological superiority, Nikhil, got himself the same gizmo.

Cut to the boyz in da hood walking around with their respective ipods, cords, manuals etc in hand like harassed parents seeking kindergarten admissions for the by products of flawed condoms.

The pillar started developing cracks, the alpha male as far away from success as our beloved servicing is to client issues.

A crisis was at hand. And who better to handle it than Mr. Gaurav ‘ten hands’ Lalwani and his Excellency Mehboob ‘ambidextrous’ Kasim.

A playlist here. A plug there. A copy here. A transfer there.
‘Where?’ the alpha man questioned. ‘Phsss’ he heard Gaurav’s spit bubble land on his supple lips. He was quietened. For now.

The transfer continued. Not necessarily of mp3’s from the PC to the ipod. But of bodies from one USB port to the other.

The air was filled with ‘Who’s’ ‘What’s’ ‘Where’s’ and ‘How’s’ The junta, like myself, felt the dreaded board exams were in progress.

Saji had a point or two. Infact, we ensured it never went beyond that. ‘There obviously isn’t any planning here’ he sneaked in before disappearing with the women folk into the yoga session. (More on this later).
Before I move on, it was 6 words from him. We had failed.

But the super humans hadn’t. They were strutting around with the headphones plugged in the right orifices.

Atleast someone was having fun.

‘Enjoy karo!’ I said and moved on to another planet.

etc etc etc

My fear seems to be coming true. Can't motivate myself to keep posting day in and day out.
Probably I don't need to. Probably I lead a boring life.
Come on, can’t be. I am the worm.

So come on worm, speak.

Seems like AJ liked the attention, time and cyber space I've spent on him.
What are frens for AJ?

Appu's written something about me. Read it and felt it was good. Well, that's my opinion. Guess you'd have to visit her blog to be a judge. She's written about some stuff I'd forgotten. After having read wot she's written, I too miss the school and college days. Minus the exams, tests and punishments.
And since these are part and parcel of school and college life, I'd settle for the 2 years of SIMC. Man! Was life fun.

But I do miss Cal. (Calcutta, for the uninitiated.) Miss those late night addas under the streetlight. Roll call time.
Andalib
Bittoo
Chotu (to and from sutta breaks)
Rajdeep
Raj
Adil (to and from gym and alipore)
Gablu (avoiding his dad)
Bruce

These were the regulars. Then there were the non para boys.
Ajeesh, Jomy, Aditya (Andy;s fren)

No matter where we all went to spent the evening. Russell Street dhaba, Sharma's, Tantra, Someplace Else, Karnani, John's coop or Rajdeep's mezzanine floor. The gathering under the light was a daily ritual. Only to be missed owing to high (read excess) intake of alcohol, get lucky (read scoring with the chicks) and annual report card.

God, I Miss those times!

AJ the PJ

It’s been a while since the worm’s spoken. Not that too many were complaining. Except for my trusted old pal, AJ. Too up market a name for this Gujju bhai, so it’s best to call a spade a spade. In this case – Ameet Joshi.


Been busy of late. (And before AJ has a comment, let me say it myself, ‘For a change.’ Ameet stop sniggering)

China is driving me up the wall. ‘Not surprising’ said AJ the PJ, ‘they own the Great Wall dude!’ Guess this is the right moment in time for me to confess to the whole world or the two people who read this blog (AJ and me) the real reason why I tolerate Ameet Joshi.

The fact, not hidden to any, is that he makes me look good.
- More hair
- Less fat
- Better clothes
-That too matching
Aren’t these more than good reasons for anyone to put up with a little body odour and a little more audacity? They sure are for me!

I might be getting a bit carried away. Only a bit. So, since I’ve claimed to call a spade a spade, here it is.
I really do wish I’d have a heart and mind like his. Warm, sharp, quick-witted and above all, non-judgmental.

(Get a hold of yourself Brijesh. It was supposed to be a moment of weakness. Let it pass.)

OK! The moment and wind has passed. Where were we? Yeah…the Chinese. Those buggers were really onto me.
‘Why me Lord?’ I cried. Like a man of little faith.
But God moves in mysterious ways. So instead of sending down his wrath, he sent me the newspaper, wrapped.
And it declared verily unto me that even the PM is human and so is his family members, especially his grandson. And if they could be faced with this then who am I?
Man, mere man. (Jokes apart, hope the kid recovers soon.)

Faith restored I returned. Or should I say I left. For Aamby Valley. The exclusive city hidden in the hills of Lonavala.

I went. I saw. I wandered and wondered. What’s the big deal? The place is nice. The rates unheard of. The service, competent. But put together it surely wasn’t EARTH’S FINEST ABODE. No sir. Not by a long shot.
So 3 stiff shots. And I slept over it.
Woke up next morning, no change in opinion.
So 3 more shots.
Cheers!