Chick chick chick, chick-tales

Aunt: The other day, in the train I met this lovely girl, she comes from a good home
Bakwas: If you ever, EVER talk about girls or if you try setting me up with someone I will never talk to you again.

This was my last conversation with my aunt.

So to give you lowdown about my “love life”, which was once active in comparison to Pete’s unborn love life, I have dated two ladies and had upto three other extremely messed up flings.
My homeboy Z once very wisely called girls associated with me as ‘psycho monkeys’. To keep the nomenclature simple, we shall adopt ‘psycho monkeys’ as the term given to girls associated with me.

Psycho monkey number 1: Case too boring to discuss.

Psycho monkey number 2: Let’s call her Chocolate cola. The only interesting part of our relationship is that we mutually dumped each other because we pretty much ran out of ideas, that and the fact that I was a sum total of eighteen years old then and I had been dating her for three years. Wow kids these days!

Well she’s now married to this hot shot IT dude, with an MBA. To which my sister appropriately said “You didn’t stand a chance dude!”, which is true. He self funded his MBA! There is no chance I would EVER better that. Anyway, we keep in touch; every time she needs to feel good about her weight she calls and mocks me. Bless her!

Psycho monkey number 3: By this time I was slightly smarter, but romantically far dumber than even the American standards system. Proof of how dumb I was (am) is the belief that I was capable of making a long distance relationship work. What on earth was I thinking? Let’s call her Poiuy. Poiuy wisely dumped me as soon as she unravelled that not too far from the surface of me, lies an extremely selfish person who doesn’t support anything or anyone’s aspirations.
I classify our current communication rate as ‘Bi-birthday’.

Psycho monkey number 4: Boring x 2 = Way too boring to discuss.

Psycho monkey number 5: Ms Cockroach, the latest of my infatuations. This was a dead end from the very beginning. I definitely couldn’t have gone more wrong with this one, I’ll leave it you to see why. Ms Cockroach is an engaged, Afghan millionaire’s daughter. Like that wasn’t an obvious sign, her fiancé is a philanthropic investment banker. Chocolate cola, summarised all this into one word, Terrorist! But she was so pretty, that too on the surface pretty not the beautiful inside kinds!

Here’s an interesting story, in order to make fun of her, I was enquiring about Ms Cockroaches religious affiliation! When she indicated she wouldn’t tolerate that, I brought up Ibn Batuta and how he Travelled across world, you know to make amends for my daftitude. So as I knew it, the Quran recommends that one must travel. In doing so, a person gains a wider perspective of the world and experiences challenges that nurture ones being. Ms Cockroach, who is a Muslim by birth (how shocking is that!) told me: “Firstly Bakwas, get your facts straight: the Quran doesn’t “recommend” travelling, it tells you to go on pilgrimages. Second, do you really need the Quran to tell you that travel broadens your horzon!” Setting the embarrassment of me being a NOT so hot intellectual aside, I admit that she isn’t just a hot-bod but is a person who is aware and had a personal perspective of things. Thus began the trivial pursuit of an ‘engaged to a investment banker’ cum ‘Afghani millionaires daughter’. Stupid stupid, STUPID!

My aunts Sunday pass-time is to read matrimonial classifieds of some Telugu periodical. That never bothered me as a kid, ‘cause I thought she was trying to hook my cousins up. Then there was an unrelated episode when she told my dad that she found me a ‘suitable match’, yeah the odds of that happening! So you’d expect my dad to know me, you know being my father and all, and yeah my old man did me proud. He knew way better than telling me something like that. But the job had to be done, someone had to tell me that my aunt had found a ‘suitable match’! Now everyone knows when all channels to Bakwas fail, it’s time to turn to Bakwas’ cryptonite. My sister!

You know how sometimes you just don’t want to deal with the suspense and you prefer to know right away whether it’s bad news or not (note how positive I am, there is bad news and not bad news. No ‘good news’.). So my sister calls me up one evening and says right off the barrel, ‘We need to talk’. Given all the grime I’ve waded through in my life, my spontaneous reflex was to say ‘I need my lawyer!’. Well after much cajoling, telling me there was nothing wrong, she told me that my aunt had found The Holy Grail! The one that shall bear the immaculate son. First there was denial. I just couldn’t come to terms with my sister not having dealt with this herself. This is a big deal for me. My sister always made the big decisions for me!

She later made a couple of very valid points: Why would she want to be the one who spoilt my chance of getting married, in case I was interested. Further it’s time for me to step out of the diaper and start wearing ‘em boxers!

Anyway then came anger. So I asked my sister whether she was out of her mind for not having told my aunt that it was a ridiculous idea. I was really annoyed that she even let such an issue to be brought to the table. I guess the deeper anxiety was:
a. Whether this was a sign of my sister washing her hands off me.
b. What about my plans? What was going to happen to the ‘Millionaire Bakwas weds Bisele Gundchen’ dream?

Then came bargaining. Now I have no interest in the rigmarole of responsibilities. There was no way I was going to give up my ‘minor’ status that easy. I promised my sister good grades, responsible drinking, I told her I was even willing to stop drinking! Exactly, I was that desperate. At this point my sister was as confused as an electrical engineer with a light bulb.

But then things took a not so slight turn. The question begging to be answered was, who on earth was this girl! As a matter of fact, in the broader perspective who were these people, who without any idea of the who, what, when, where, why’s of me wanted to get their daughter married to me! I mean, how can one merit ones worthiness solely on their parents. I was saddened for the girl, because it was her parents who were making an uninformed decision which could define her life. That’s when slight depression came.

Finally, it was acceptance that crept in. While I could do my part in not being part of what I consider an unfair bargain for a girl, but is that going to change anything for me? Are my folks going to suddenly realise this and start a resistance against young girls getting married to strangers. Hell no! So I accepted that I could only do my part and not part take in this illogical practice.

So what actually has been bothering me is what my brother in law casually said when he heard ALL of this, he said that I have commitment issues, wa-what!! Which makes absolute NONSENSE right! I mean, here I am single for about 2 pages running and I have commitment issues! How?

Suggestions being accepted now in the form of women ;)

-Bakwas

MISSION IS-THAT-BULL (CRAP)???

First thing’s first.
A) I’d like to thank Bakwaas & Pete for this super opportunity. I am truly honored.
B) I am not a movie critic. A Hindi movie critic is one who loves all SRK flicks & gives them a 5-star rating. I hate SRK.
C) I am just a huge Hollywood movie buff who thinks that he has seen enough quality flicks and thus can easily point out which part of a Hindi flick is “inspired” from which part of Hollywood flick. (Ya ya…Angrez ki aulaad)
D) The only quality bollywood flicks I watch are Mithunda flicks starring hot sleazy 18 year old chicks with raunchy music, Sunny’s action flicks Chi-Chi’s dance hits. Also, I was present at the world premiere of Radrakash- The modern Ramayan & Aap Ka Khajoor.

Here we go then.

The movie I am talking about is the recently released bollywood flick, “Mission Is-that-bull”. Lead hero Zero-head Kahn is India’s number one news reporter working for Kal-tak news channel. He is recently divorced from his wife ‘Dumbo’ (some hot Telgu actress who looks cute but then again I have lost my senses because I desperately crave for a chick in my life) & is on his way to work for famous aide-de-terrorist news channel, Al Jal-jeera. By the way, this guy is an IIT engineer (computers) who has ventured into journalism. Hmm, pretty innovative.

If you were to give a serious thought, what are you going to achieve after coming to U.S with your IIT degree? A masters program in top notch university with full tuition waiver followed by a $ 120,000/ year job in top MNC? Realistically, maybe an off-campus job at a gas-station & a $ 60,000/year job where you work for a desi consultant because his is the only E-verified company in U.S & your O.P.T period is gonna end soon. (Pete knows more while Bakwaas will soon find out). Keeping this scenario in mind, I must say, I like that. I mean, the director knows that U.S economy is in doldrums.

Scene 2. Camera zooms to Istanbul. Zero-head meets So-Nil ‘Yeda-anna’ Shitty. This guy is an ex-commando who turned to journalism because he hates killing people except for the fight scenes that is. I can tolerate that because So-nil bhai’s chutzpah (read chutyagiri) lasts only for one fight scene. It is as if the director is doing the soup Nazi, “So-nil bhai, you can’t act; you don’t want to kill; NO JOURNALISM FOR YOU”. (Seinfeld joke, google it)
Bye-bye So-nil, enter Be-wake Robroy. This guy is a total dude. Long flowing hair, dark sun-glasses, Batman style entry & exit and w(sh)itty punch-lines. OK… I can still watch it because I am not paying for the flick; it is free on the internet. Be-wake warns Zero-head that his life is in danger & when Zero-head tries to attack him, he grabs his hand & twists it which makes you puke because the move is not from Jason Bourne’s fight book but rather a cheap imitation of James Bond making a move on one of the Bond girls…but this time it is a Bond guy…Gay Bond…same thing…yuck!!!!

Istanbul’s opening scenes gave me a feeling that the movie might be based on 2001 action thriller, The Spy Game starring Robert Redford & Brad Pitt. It has Enya like music running in the background. But, it also has Jason Bourne’s theme & Dropkick Murphy’s ‘I am shipping up to Boston’ like theme running parallel to it. Definitely not a Spy Game copy. Thank you God for saving Robert Redford!!!

Al Jal-jeera’s editor-in-thief doesn’t like Zero-head mistakenly venturing on the 13th floor of their office building (very superstitious fellow) and thus orders his men to beat the shit out of Zero-head.

Enter Lara Croft Tomb Raider in body hugging leather suit. She kicks ass and kisses ass too (later being Be-wake). She works for the goons but is actually a R.A.W officer stationed in Istanbul who wants to offer Zero-head a job in India’s secret service agency. Waaah!!!! No wonder IITians keep on getting deadly job offers all the time.

Also, Al Jal-jeera guy uses the same transponders that N.S.A used in the movie ‘Enemy of the State’ to keep an eye on Zero-head ‘Will Smith’s’ daily chores. Be-wake ‘Gene Hackman’ Robroy finds Zero-head being chased by Turkish goons & beats the crap out of them. Why? Because they are from U.P-Bihar of Turkey & they hunt in 4s & they don’t know karate & shit & they look dumbfounded every time they are in front of camera…so, whooping their asses is easies…(my englishes!!!).

Next, our deadly duo plan to raid Al Jal-jeera’s 13th floor office, Matrix style. Their mission; which they have already chosen to accept; is, to copy all the data from Al Jal-jeera’s computers & plant a virus using a simple flash drive…Zero-head is Bollywood’s IIT computer engineer for Christ’s sake…he can do anything. Unkit Fadia, you suck at hacking because you wrote a book on it while Zero-head hacked the system in two freaking attempts. I’ll obviously opt for Zero-head’s notes when I study for my hacking exam! Phbbt!!!

After more Bourne Supremacy ‘man chase on roof tops’ & one Ronin style car chase in by-lanes of Istanbul comes the climax. Here, Zero-head is tied to the chair with his lady love ‘Dumbo’ (that’s her actual pet name in the flick) tied next to him & constipated faced villain is left to do a Philip Seymour Hoffman by threatening to kill lady love unless Zero-head hands the flash drive to him. Zero-head meanwhile tries to tell how much he loves ‘Dumbo’. Err…Mission Impossible 3 anyone???

The villains are so obsessed with the flash-drive & bitch talk that they have completely forgotten about Be-wake. Where are you Be-wake??? You swore you’d save the lovers 5 minutes before Zero-head turned himself in.

And Lo! There he is. Climbing on roof tops, planting time-bombs at strategic locations, wearing a bullet proof vest & W.T.F…carrying a Salaam Namaste style man-purse???? After-all, he is Turkey’s no.1 Metro-homo-sexual commando who killed Osama in Saddam’s bunker half way into the movie. Oopsie! I just leaked out the most vital bit of movie info!

In the end, Zero-head goes on to thrash his villain…after all, his lady love did say, “Go, get him Tiger”; which means…“Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can…” Meanwhile, Be-wake & constipated villain slug it out after some bitch-talk & eventually restores peace in Turkey.

The movie ends with Zero-head discussing honey-moon plans with his lady-love & Be-wake comes in their bedroom to hug Zero-head & they live gayily ever after.

- Movie-monger (Friend of Buck & Pete)

As things are

Ever heard this one, “do well in your class 10 exams and your life will be a bed of roses” or “do well in your class 12 exams and your life…” or “do well in college and your…”? Anybody who has passed class 12 has definitely figured that all this is a whole bunch of baloney! Trust me; it takes much more than that to get to that bed of roses, no Peteboy I’m not talking about the typically Indian “First Night”.

I don’t know how you brainiacs have it, but neighbors and relatives get super inquisitive and desperately want to know what has been up with everyone else post graduation. Let me walk you through what we’ve been up to post graduation.

I guess you’re aware Peteboy Perfect Pessimist has moved overseas and is living an Amish existence whilst pursuing a Master of Science someplace in the US. He has stood up to his expectations and is faking about doing wretchedly in his course and continues to be a mumbling jumbling hard on. He still continues to run into dead end prospects. I believe he’s trying to put together a leaf blower. Dude, get real unless that thing runs on baby puke or someone’s fart on the other side of the earth, its not going to win you the nobel prize. He claims to have dates with some chick who is already latched on to some over achieving Stanford-Harvard alumni. Obviously his claims translate into binoculars, a locked room door and a whole lot of vibration.

Aajkarni is relishing working with Charag. Although he has realized that since every monkey with clothes on can get a bachelors degree he needs to spread his wings and try really hard and get back into Angels. Dude, don’t hide from the truth! Yes every angelite laughed at those buffoon’s with toothpaste for brains who pursued a management degree from angels. But, the brutal truth is without a family business or a masters you are just a monkey with clothes on. Apart from that he crashed his bike once and didn’t get shouted at and is now the proud brother of a class 11, angelite wannabe.

Bitterman is paying through his nose for a rather unusual course, Family Marriage Business Alliance. The be all and end all of this course is the never ending effort of trying to figure which families get married and what business are allianced (or is that which alliance are businessed). He still drives his Red Auto Crasher and still thinks Nerul and Powai are on the way to Airoli.

Roxa has been nursing an ailing bank balance. Though I think there is a strong relationship between Roxa’s bank balance and the bartenders average salary. I remind him that we are almost neighbors every weekend, because as you will realize in a bit I’ve been doing my share of over achieving too. Now since I’m trying to cut down on my artificial intoxicants intake, we meet every other weekend and spend amounts which used to be standard tips at the bars on bad coffee and worse chaat. He still is confused whether his 2 wheeler is a motorbike or a deadly chopper.

PACman aka Pluto, as you all probably know has pulled a Sadanand Swami (isn’t that the guy who cried “lift kara de” with socks in his throat and got his fingers insured for it?). I was with Roxa talking with Foetur one weekend when he told us that he lost so much weight that he weighs lesser than Roxa or me. At first I was like, “you mean he weighs lesser than Roxa AND me. Like Roxa AND me COMBINED” which I considered probable. But turns out PACman has thrashed my assumptions and now weighs as much as me or Roxa. Other than that he is trying to revolutionize how people of his faith do their banking.

Dented Happy Jaidev is trying hard to bid tata to his employer Bye-bye! Apparently answering calls all day isn’t what he bashed his brains all night over Dynamics of Machinery and Fluid Mechanics for.

“He who can, does...he who can't...teaches", having said that I tell you mechanics is a challenge and you need to apply yourself to crack it. Some people take a couple of attempts more than those over smart- notes maintaining, dabba eating, going home and studying, library book borrowing, the basic NO SOCIAL LIFERS!!

Hard Deep Fatty is one of them. He took time to clear mechanics because he probably tried to physically replicate each and every problem he found in the texts and notes. “He who can, does…”.

Now hypothetically imagine somebody like him, NOT HIM but like him. Somebody who walks, talks, thinks, studies, dresses and yeah maybe even looks like him decides that he is a suitable candidate for a job with the cess pool a la grande, the Angel teaching faculty. Given the extremely high and stringent standards of Angels, he gets the bloody job and very rightly so. But herein lies the tragedy, awww. Two months into his job, he plugs one of his final semester people. HEY, I FLUNKED IT TOO, HENCE STAND THE RIGHT TO MOCK AT HIM!! Now, that’s what education is all about. Being taught by people who’ve stood the test of time trying to pass subjects is exactly what budding receptionists need...“he who can't...teaches”. What say, Jaidev?

The next account is tragic so people, please stay strong. Foetur is not a rapist, not a pedophile, is not a drug abuser and is not a safe driver. But one morning his sibling walked into the room and found him strewn across the bed writhing in pain and yonder laid a severely abused old monk, Alcohol. No one could exactly estimate how long Alcohol was facing the wrath of treacherous Foetur. Some people say Foetur started abusing Alcohol the day he first donned a bandana, but I think the abuse dates much earlier.

It was when Foetur was being baptized that he bumped into this old monk, Alcohol. The old monks’ sweet taste made a permanent mark on Foetur’s mind. The contrasts of age didn’t matter to him, it was his sweet taste that he began craving for. As Foeter grew fatter with age (the essence is him growing fat not old), he slowly yet surely started abusing the poor old monk. I knew of his abuse and foretold God’s action on him, who abuses an old monk man!! It happened indeed, while working Foetur met other people who shared the same proclivity. Religiously, they’d meet over the weekend and systematically abuse Alcohol, Absoslut Smirnadi and others. It was during one of these romps when things went out of hand. Alcohol had enough of the abuse and summoned the courage to fight Foetur. Having routinely studied the Foetur’s ample body from the inside, he found his weakness. Foturs Achilles heel is his knee. The old monk cursed his knee and Foetur fell like a beer barrel (actually like 10 beer barrels). “No medicine can cure people like him” remarked the doctor on seeing Foeturs hapless body. Foetur went cold cabbage (turkey was struck of his diet as punishment) for a long time and now gradually shows signs of a more responsible citizen. I can vouch that he and his spectacles are more safe himself now, though he still doesn’t know how to drive.

All this brings it to me, I hope you haven’t fallen asleep in anticipation. Unlike these low lifes I have been upto some serious over achieving. While these buffoons had to go far and wide to make money, I remained sensible and continued begging at my dads door. You’ll be surprised what a little persistence can get! I have been computing a lot off late, I regularly spend 3-4 hours computing on intensive applications like Zero Conditions and the brand new Fafi 2007! I miss college a lot though, so much so that I dragged my over rated final year project back into my life. Now apart from being “modest”, I also am known to be a giving person. So I gave the responsibility of putting together a new robot to Bitterman and in return I gained the satisfaction of sharing! All these over achieving was noticed by some twit all the way in the Divided and Surprisingly backward States and decided to tap my talent.

As you can see, I have to get back to nursing my talent. Untill next time, shake the boom shake!!
All the characters in this story are REAL, they’ve names have been altered to save them some shame.

NEW YORK – NEW YORK

After my pathetic FALL QUARTER ended in November, I had to prepare myself for a 45 day long winter break. What was miserable about the break was that most of the seniors I knew were heading back to homeland. As for me; well, I knew spending 45 days with my room-mates in our 2x2 sq.ft apartment wouldn’t be an ideal way to spend such a long vacation. Watching movies, cooking food and listening to old Hindi songs thirty days in a row bored me to death. I was even tired of watching p*rn! (Shocking, but true!!!) So, I decided to make full use of my parents’ hard earned money by booking an airline ticket from Columbus to New York and spending Christmas & New Year at my uncle’s place.

I had to travel to Columbus via breyhound bus service since I was getting a cheaper airline ticket deal. Airline travel…cheap…not making sense eh…don’t bother…just keep on reading. I arrived at the breyhound terminal on time; the bus though…was not on time.

Eventually, when breyhound bus started, the bus driver picked the in-car speaker-phone and made an announcement, “Hi! This is your Captain speaking!!! Right now, we are on our way to Columbus via Springfield. The temperature outside is currently 60 degrees. We will reach Columbus in 1 hour 40 minutes, so please sit back and enjoy the ride. I request you to please switch of the cell-phones for convenience of other passengers.” (For those who think I made up this bit, go ask anyone who has travelled by a breyhound bus)

Dude!! W.t.f man… “This is your captain speaking???” Just because the breyhound company gave you a freaking cap, it doesn’t make you a pilot. You are driving a freaking bus for God’s sake. And let’s say you are a pilot, then where is the sexy airhostess? All I see is financially unstable Americans and miserly Indians travelling in the bus. And why should we keep the cell-phones switched off? Is it because it will interfere with the vehicle’s electronic stability control and air-conditioning by which the “pilot” will have to control the bus on road & pull the vehicle on side-way??? Jeez.

Anyways, 4 p.m, 24^th December, I am at my uncle’s apartment in Queens. Now, if you think that I am going to write about what all places I saw in New York, then let me tell you one thing loud and clear: - this is not a blog version of Lonely Planet: New York.

I was to stay at my uncle’s place for a couple of days before meeting my friends from school and going on a road trip with them. So, we made the best of the two days by visiting places like Times Square, Broadway and catching the Staten Island ferry to have a good look at the Statue of Liberty. While my uncle was busy explaining the historical significance of the statue to me, I was busy studying the topological features of the German, Spanish, Italian & French female visitors on the ferry. I came to New York to sight-see, so, I was enjoying the sights to the fullest.

After experiencing the Christmas radiance in New York, my friends & I rented a car and drove to Atlantic City on the 26^th. One of my friends was accompanied by his girl-friend. Upon reaching Atlantic City, we visited one of many casinos. Out of the blue, my friend’s girlfriend developed a sudden urge to play on the slot machine and she was pretty adamant about it. Well, having a girlfriend can be expensive. Your wallet is always empty since you need to keep her happy all the time. Apparel, footwear, cosmetics and other accessories are few things you must buy for her irrespective of her dad being rich or you being poor. But gambling? This is one relationship I won’t be betting on!

Bad days aren’t a novelty for me. I mean, I used to get 10 on 10 for my essays on the topic, “the day everything went wrong”. Stuff like that would just come naturally to me. I’d write about my real life experiences unlike others who would have to cook up something just to make it sound more tragic. But, 27^th December 2007, was, by far, the worst day of my life. Ever since we had planned the trip, I was the one jumping with enthusiasm knowing we would be boozing all night at my friend’s apartment that day. “Oh boy! I am gonna drink; Oh boy! We are gonna swill; oh boy! We are gonna tipple! Oh boy, my first booze session since coming to USA!!!! Oh boy!!!” I created the hoopla. We even bought a Johnny Walker red label single malt scotch whiskey to celebrate our re-union after a huge gap of 6 months!

When the time came for the first shot, I flattered to deceive. The stuff was so smooth that there was no burning sensation in the throat. Though, I found the smell obnoxious. I don’t know whether the minced chicken preparation which I had along with chopped onions a few hours ago was making me sick. But whatever it was, I was just not able to drink. The whole night, I just sat with a shitty expression on my face while my friends were boozing like crazy & calling me a chicken for not drinking. I don’t blame them at-all. During our drinking sessions back in India, I was the one who could gulp down almost 300 mL of cheap liquor like Royal Stag whiskey and McDowell’s No.1 etc. etc. and here I was, not being able to finish off one peg of red label scotch; a diluted peg rather. It was as if my manhood was being mocked at and unfortunately, I did not have an answer.

(Mom, dad… in case you read this, do not panic…I only cooked this stuff just to make it sound funny… I don’t drink….NOT! I am still a good boy who left India 6 months ago)

While the whole of New York was anxiously waiting for the BALL-DROP at Times Square on New Year’s Eve, I was enjoying the New Year event at Central Park. Ok; you may think that I am a fool for not being at Times square to witness the event but I was not at all eager to stand in chilly open air from 5 pm to 2 am without food, water and occasional visits to the loo. I was better off at Central Park watching gyrating asses (not donkeys) while listening to some really good dance hits. When the count-down began, the fireworks started and continued for next 15 minutes.

Yes, I have celebrated all my previous New Years strictly with kith and kin…err kin only to be precise. Yes, I did not miss watching Usha Uthup’s boring televised singing programs or Star Movies’ primetime broadcast of latest James Bond flicks on 31^st eve. And yes, I hadn’t witnessed such pyrotechnics before. So, was this the best thing that could ever happen to me? Hell no.

For the first time in my life, I longed for someone special. I wanted to hold her hands. I wanted to gaze at her, look into her eyes endlessly. Bloody hell, I even wanted to kiss her when the silly count-down ended. At 23, I was alone in the city that never sleeps watching stupid fireworks. And then………..

RC: Knock Knock!!!

Pete: Who is it???

RC: Reality Check!!!

Pete: Reality Check, who???

RC: Reality Check- you are still lonely & miserable.

Pete: Amazing fireworks!!!!! Mind-blowing!!!! Wooooohooo!!! New York rocks!!!!! This is my best New Year eve ever!

I had to catch a Columbus bound flight on 1^st afternoon. After the routine security check, I waited at the assigned gate for an hour. I used that time to summarize my New York trip. Technically, I was in New York City for three whole days. Three days are not enough to visit such a big city. Yes, I used the subway and found the experience amazing. No, I did not walk & dance & sing on the Shah Rukh Khan Bridge (also known as Brooklyn Bridge to the rest of the world). Yes, I saw the Ground-Zero and felt, “So! Another huge rubble site in a concrete jungle...how different is it from any other???” No, I did not eat the road-side halal food and neither did I take a picture of me with the Bull. And no, I did not visit the stupid wax museum either. And now, you want me to compare New York with Mumbai.

So, here goes:- “New York Rocks!!!” It is an amazing city indeed. The skyline is magnificent. The subways are almost 100 years old, well planned and the best and fastest mode of transport. Multicultural population makes residing in New York equally easier. There is the Chinatown for cheap goods and the Indiantown for cheap Indians. (America calls Indiantown as New Jersey). Patels, Shahs, Desais, Singhs are all there. You feel like home. To be honest, I never wanted to leave the city.

After spending my entire life in Mumbai, I always thought that I’d never want to be somewhere else. New York attracted me but there is something about Mumbai that can never be matched. The crazy rush for bus at any time of the day; the overcrowded trains whose time-table you can never forget; watching cricket match from North stand, abusing the visiting teams & then getting mentioned in the newspaper; the Queen’s necklace at night; ever increasing price of fuel; the traffic policeman a.k.a “Pandu” and the road side chat food in the evening. New York may have its Times Square & New Year’s ball drop to boast about but if you really want to experience a city’s real flavor, visit Mumbai.

Three things define Mumbai: Cordial functioning irrespective of induced communal tension, Ganesh Chaturthi exuberance & festooning and the immortal vada-pav. Politicians may want it to be the next Shanghai but as long as these three things stay, the spirit of Mumbai will always remain forever.

- Peteboy

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM – III

Like a trained parrot, I had blabbered everything nice about my university to the visa officer in order to get the visa. These days, the visa procedure has become more of a lucky draw. One of the main reasons for me coming to this university (as told to visa officer) was the ease of getting an assistantship. When I landed in America, the situation was rather chaotic.

To begin with, the assistantship scenario was looking bleak since the professors with field of interest of my liking already had atleast one desi student under them. On the other hand, the fields in which I was not interested had all sorts of openings available! Facing a Catch 22 situation, I started writing e-mails to all the professors asking them for ‘FUNDING’… (that’s right…desi public have their own lingo…funding is a word they use for assistantship) but almost everyone quickly replied, “THANKS BUT NO THANKS”. Little did I know that all the professors here were now trying to avoid hiring desi students because of their casual, paralyzed & cramming style of thesis work & study. GOOD JOB, SENIORS!!!! (Grrrr)

Whilst continuing on my ‘Will do anything for Funds’ mission, I came to know of a certain professor who was on a lookout for a part-timer to do designing work for his clients. He wanted someone who was hard-working, willing to learn new stuff; someone who was good at imagination; someone having profound knowledge of CAD software & someone who was always punctual with his work. He was unable to find anyone with so many attributes. I told him straightaway that I fitted the bill & I should be able to give this challenge a shot. Multitasking is definitely not my forte but when in Rome, do as Romans do!

This professor was going to teach a course which all the desis are afraid to take up since there are no reference books readily available. None of the desis had taken his course in past five years. Even after being severely warned by seniors, I registered for the very course & decided to take up the part-time work as I wanted to improve my chances of getting funded. Obviously, he was not going to pay me for the work I did as he wanted to observe me for one “Quarter” & then decide whether I was good at fulfilling any one of the stipulations he had put forward.

(The university where I am studying has a ‘QUARTER-SYSTEM’ of education as compared to ‘SEMESTER-SYSTEM’ in most of the universities)

The first few weeks passed without any problem. Both the subjects were esoteric but I always had this gut feeling that I would cope with the studies once I started studying “sincerely”. Besides, I had enough experience of handling pressure & burden of completing the assignments on time thanks to the teachings & sufferings I received in my undergrad alma-mater.

Daily routine included waking up early, grabbing light breakfast, packing my lunch-box & running to university lab so that I could chat with my parents as we had already fixed a time which was suitable for both of us keeping the time-difference in mind. Parallel online chatting with most of the school & college friends meant recollecting those selected twenty-thirty incidents & jokes & laughing endlessly at them. The only time chatting sessions turned sour were when they would shamelessly ask, “oye, whats the score?”

Now, there are some things which a good friend knows very well about you. ‘Struggling to get a girl-friend till date' is a one such thing. Questions regarding such things can only depress you in a way because at the end of the day, it is your best friend who has made you look like a loser. It hurts your ego.

If you are attracted to some girl or maybe infatuated by her presence, the gutsy thing to do is ask her out. Unfortunately, your conscience tell you that approaching her will only lead to rejection as you have nothing that will impress her. It is a knee-jerk reaction. Under such circumstances, you listen to it. Then, you tell the whole world that you never approached a girl because you never found anyone perfectly befitting for you. As a result, your self-esteem remains untainted and you don’t face rejection. Anyways, it was never a serious issue because all my friends haven’t found their “right girl” yet. So, to think about it, we are still sailing in the same boat.

Five weeks down the line, I was still struggling to follow a single word of both the subjects. Fourth week was the last week to drop the course which meant I had to continue what I had signed for. As for CAD work; well, we were never taught CAD software during my undergraduate studies & since football, tennis, formula1, cricket, movies & free quality p*rn were the only ‘happening things’ in my college life, there was no time to self motivate myself & learn CAD software on my own.

Things did not end there. The second course which I had taken was called “Mechanical Oscillations” & during my undergrads, I don’t know how many attempts I gave to clear this very subject. I, not being able to understand a single equation or word of the first subject, (one which I mentioned two paragraphs above this one) somehow started making sense as this subject was called “Advanced Non-periodic Oscillations”. When the eighth week of the ten-week quarter arrived, I was in a state of rut:- attending the lectures, cooking food, eating food, chatting with my parents wherein I assured them everything is O.K, sleeping, eating & ooh yes…free p*rn…free, LEGAL, excellent quality P*RN! My “Oscillations” exam was after two weeks & had a project submission of “nonlinear she-near me-fear oscillations” the week before. I was lost in a labyrinth & all the exit-doors were closed for me.

I don’t know how the final week of the Quarter flew by. I had managed to complete the project in time. At the time of presentation, the professor pointed out that my assumptions for the project problem were wrong which meant my entire project was wrong. Fortunately, my four native classmates got their individual projects wrong as-well. The final exam didn’t turn out that well either. Moreover, I missed my cheat-buddies sorely (so what if I am unable to cheat…read “ITS 7th SEM-MISTER?”). When the grades came out a week later, history repeated itself.

Four months have gone by & my attempts to get ‘funded’ have turned futile. I got bored of the free part-time work & the professor got bored of me not being able to produce any results. Grades aren’t worth mentioning either. No assistantship means I have to use up the entire educational loan. Using whole amount means looking for a job in America as soon as I pass out so that I can repay the loan within stipulated time. Job search is only possible if I manage to pass out in Summer or Fall Quarter to get maximum time for O.P.T. If at-all I get a job, I have to impress my employer so that he will file for my H1 visa status.

Since Quarter system has certain courses being offered only during certain Quarters, I am stuck here till the next Winter. Keeping that in mind, I’ll have to stretch my graduation by five additional months. That means additional expenses. Not to mention the fact that the place I am studying is located in a remote village.

No job means I might have to opt for a PhD. program which sucks in a way because I am not a big fan of studies. So, I am pretty sure I won’t be able to that. Plus, I’ll be stuck here for not two but five full years.

Whoever said, “if you can become an engineer in India, masters’ degree from anywhere else will be a bed of roses”, fooled me big time. There are so many things to worry about while completing the coursework that I have even given up looking for loop-holes in the system. Swimming with the tide is the only logical option; so what if it takes you to Bermuda Triangle!!!

Even after doing so, the perennial question still remains unanswered: “what about that girl I am so crazy about?” I know I can’t get her. She seems to be happy with her guy (though latest intelligence reports suggest that he is not her “boy-friend” & they are just “going-out”) and I pretend to be self occupied with no time for love. Eventually, I’ll be relying on my parents to find me ‘the One’ whether my ego likes it or not. Believe me, even they won’t find it easy to dupe someone to marry me because:

a) Nobody wants to marry an obese, bald guy graduating from a lesser known university & earning peanuts in an organization where there is no job security or
b) A guy who is struggling with his PhD program.

Today’s women want adventurous guys who, while raking moolah, are able to fulfill the promise of providing a Queen-size life to them. They are so not into aged geeks who are unable to find a secured job in the first place and take ages to start earning big bucks.

Well, just to console myself, I can say that I survived four years in the ANGLE slammer. So, few more years of butt-kicking won’t make a difference either. All I pray for is a good life which is difficult to get and a good wife which is even more difficult to get.


- Peteboy

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - II

Lucky me, my uncle is big-shot in INDIA-AIR. He pulled couple of strings together & there I was flying to America in business class. He helped me find my seat & introduced me to the business class cabin crew & told them to take good care of me. When my uncle left the plane, the crew was still smiling at me but it was more of smirk…as if I was traveling for free or something. The worst thing about this situation was that I could not comfort myself with the free booze now that the entire crew knew who I was. The last thing you want is your mom shouting at you when you call her once you reach the university…rather than she asking you, “how was your flight? Are you jet-lagged?, blah blah blah”, she is going bonkers over the fact that her dotting ‘teetotaler’ son consumed free liquor in-flight & created a ruckus (hic). Also, with no one sitting next to me, it was going to be a lonely ride to London.

My uber-cool uncle had also told the pilot about me, so after about three hours, the pilot invited me into the cockpit. There were two to-be-pilots already inside; conversing with the pilot & co-pilot; asking all sorts of questions, company policies, aircraft history & service etc. Meanwhile, I was looking at all the switchgears like a monkey in a zoo, most of the times wondering, “Emm…what is this? What does this button do? Is the pedal near the pilot’s foot an accelerator or a brake?” By then, the pilot read my mind & started asking me about my journey so far, my schooling background, & gave me full permission to ask any questions now that he knew I was a mechanical engineer. Everyone knows how straight-forward I am… so my first question to him was a simple one, “what happens when one of the engines fail?”

The co-pilot gave me ‘the look’ the moment he heard this while the to-be-pilots started palpitating. The pilot, on the other hand, quickly changed the topic by pointing at the window saying, “Hey, look guys, we are now flying over Tehran!”
Ok. So what’s the catch? Am I supposed to look outside the window & wave to the crowd below? Or am I to look and point out and jump up with joy shouting, “ooh ooh, that part of Tehran down there looks just like Connaught Place in Delhi!!!” We are flying 33,000 feet above sea-level! Shouldn’t I be worrying about some goon down there with a missile launcher pointed at us, hitting us & then you worrying about how to control the plane when an engine or tail or wing goes missing!

“FLYING OVER TEHRAN!!!!!”…. sheeeesh!!!!!!!!!!

A London stop-over later, I was back on the flight with no one in the adjacent seat once again. I was hoping that the change of crew would mean I could taste some booze on my way to USA but those hopes took a severe beating when one of the stewards came up to me & told me that he & my uncle have known each other for a decade. This meant another eight hours on juices, boring Bollywood movies & lot of sleep.

23 hours gone, I reached the promise land. Also, with no one sitting next to me during the entire flight & having lost my chance to tipple, my dream of joining the mile-high club were severely busted whichever way you look at it.


“The air smells like maple syrup” is what I told my mom when I called her up. It was only later that I realized that the air does not smell like maple syrup but it was the car in which I was travelling which had the MAPLE-TREE freshener inside. Air in America actually smells like cigarettes. Look around & all I could see is people with cigarettes. There is this MULL-BORROW man & then there is the common man. Both of them smoke. One rides a horse while the other drives a car with one hand outside the window, fingers tightly gripping the cigarette butt, other hand on the steering wheel & head tilted so that he/she can hold the cell-phone between his/her ear & shoulder-blade.

Anyways, it didn’t take me long to figure out what the native people were really thinking of me coming here. I could read the message behind their fake smiles that damn easily. When native men smiled, I always thought they wanted to say, “get lost short fat guy with receding hairline who has come here to steal my job, lowlife!” irrespective of what kind of worker he was whereas chicks, & I mean hot chicks depicted their message loud n clear, “Buzz of four-eyes! Go find yourself an Indian chick. I am not going out with you!!!”
Under such circumstances the best thing to do is return the smile back & they should be able to read your message:- “whatever keeps you happy!!!”

One week after staying at senior’s place, I was introduced to other seniors from different departments. After exchanging pleasantries, all of them had one question for me…. “Why here? Couldn’t you find any other college to make your life miserable?” Hmmm…good question that one but the only answer I could think of was, “well, I thought I’d give you guys a company.”

The chick scenario here was sad. For me, when was it not? The native chicks didn’t give a damn while desi chicks were damned. I was hoping that I’d find someone interesting once the university opened. A week after the university opened, I thought I had found one, a special one, the only one. As luck would have had it, she was hooked up with some guy so I already gave up even before going for the kill.

There are some things a guy should not hesitate to go after. Getting a right girl is very essential. Someone who not only attracts you by her beauty and charm but also stimulates you by her intellect. Finding the right one is a not a problem if you are willing to try. Unfortunately, today’s so called right ones want a guy who is smart, rich and understanding. As for me, there is a long way to go before I fulfill my to-be right one’s criteria (if at all I manage to get the one I want).

-Peteboy

(This is part-2 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams.)

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - I

It has been a while since I posted anything here. In fact, it has been a while since either of us posted anything here. I assume most of you know that I was kicked out of the house way back in August. My homies were obviously tired of entertaining me for last 20 something years & knowing that my dismal performance in studies led to abysmal performance in job related interviews; the only logical choice was to punish me for my deeds. A brief meeting was called sometime last year & it was decided that the only way in which I could redeem myself was by pursuing further education & by that they meant a masters’ degree not just from anywhere but a Masters from a country which God always blesses – America!

Fast-forward 1 year & here I am in some University in some state of US of A.

Before sending me off though, there were words of advice from my family.

My parents told me to study hard & reminded me how expensive education in the States is so it would be better if I could score good marks & get a scholarship or something like that. All I wanted to say to them was, “if you know how expensive education is in the States, can’t you make arrangements for a punishment which is financially not that hard on me given the fact that I’ll be the one paying for the education loan!!!”

My grand mom had no interest where I was heading but kept on harping upon the same string; her string being, “Pete, don’t fall in love with a girl who does not belong to our caste, creed & community!!!” Her words were more of a sucker-punch because

a) From what I know, there are hardly any girls from my caste/creed who are single
b) Girls from my caste/creed/community get hooked up quickly because they are intelligent, smart, brilliant cooks, good home-makers & yes…good looking too.
c) Due to the exceptional qualities mentioned above, guys from other caste/creed are the first ones to go after them & they succeed with minimal efforts (dunno how!)
d) If at-all there are any single girls from my cult left in USA, I am 100% sure they won’t be studying in the university I study in
e) You know I don’t know where to stop when I talk to girls if at-all I manage to start talking to them in the first place. So, “me” finding the “right one” yet “special one” is like England winning EURO 2008.
f) Whatever happened to secularism?

On the contrary, my aunts somehow managed to ask the same set of questions; as if they were communicating with each other thru’ telepathy just to check whether I was really going there to study or was going on a vacation, their question being:-

“Where exactly are you heading? As in; where? Which country? Which state? Which city? Which county? Why? How?”

The only thing I could surmise from these 20-questions was either they were so keen to know where I was heading so that they could come visit me during my vacations or that they wanted to keep in touch with me via mails so that I can be of some help when their kids are ready for “further studies”. Not that my aunts are bad…but just a thought.

Finally, it was my college friends’ turn. None of my school mates could come since they had already left for the promise land. During their three hour stay at my place, all we did was remember the good times we had during our four miserable years of college. Oh, they also emptied 5 bags of chips & 4 bottles of colas. When they were about to leave, they gifted me a swanky wrist-watch & made me swear that not only I bring each of them a watch when I come back to India but also update them my score every quarter. YOU GUYS…….!@#$%^&!!!!

When D-day arrived, my mom couldn’t control her emotions & the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. This led to some kind of chain re-action due to which my dad, cousins, grandparents & aunts started crying too. I was the only one in my house with a dumbfounded look on my face so I switched on the T.V & started watching re-run of some old cricket match. It was the angry look on my dad’s face that made me realize that I hadn’t yet finished my packing & it was almost departure time. Eventually, we managed to pack everything in three suitcases: clothes, spices, utensils, groceries, ready-to-eat items, shoes, socks, towels, dishes, cleaning agents & what not. Things didn’t end there. My beloved aunts had prepared eatables which I had to take as a “don’t forget us” token (I told you they were all nice…I don’t castigate my relatives, get it!) and the zippers on all of my bags were just about holding it together. Eventually, I had to wear 2 sets of socks, t-shirts & undergarments so that the airline would not charge me for over-weight luggage. Not to mention a blazer & a jacket. Wow! August is so chilly & cold in INDIA isn’t it???

Approximately twenty people came to see me off at the airport. While I was travelling in my car, one cab led the way & another one followed us. Two motorcycles were already clearing the traffic for me. Had there been few more people and some music, this would have definitely looked like a “Ganpati Visarjan” procession. They were taking me to an ocean to immerse me for sure!!!!

After final few minutes with my family, I thanked everyone for coming & waved them goodbye. Everyone wished me luck & a Bollywood style dialogue summed it up, “Pete, don’t forget us!!!”

On my way in, I saw my family & well-wishers through the glass door. They were sobbing. I couldn’t. All I could do was flash my teeth & wave at them. Then I proceeded towards the vestibule. Before I went through the security check, I turned around for one last time. This time though, they were laughing, smiling…some even dancing. Some feeling proud, some feeling “heh heh heh…good riddens”. Somehow I got this feeling that it was my time to sob soon.



- Peteboy

(This is part-1 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams. )

Platform

Overview of the story:
Two gujju crime fighters who foil peteboy and bakwas’s plan to cut a day of college (and still make it for college assembly).

Act 1 (Depot to station)
Scene 1
Location: Railway station

In spite of it being a early yet gloomy Monday morning our tireless Gujju Gaandaa fighters keep vigil…for there is a scare…somewhere there is a child who is not able to mug 3 pages of utter nonsense….some where ….an adolescent wants to bunk college…and at their homes….peteboy and bakwas…aren’t able to figure out Prof. Chous notes!! BEWARE: Of the lanky super heroes: Jindal and Vijjal. Jindal who, when angered looks at the heavens and lets out what we call THE SILENT KILLER rendering any living being gasping for anything less odiferous. Legend has it H2S runs for the hills when THE SILENT KILLER escapes the Great Divide. Vijjal who when annoyed grasps real hard to his Red Pen – Green Pen and lets the MOTORMOUTH loose!! Shudder run down the spines of the non-muggu’s in their presence – Aila JnV is what they all ultimately say!!!

jindal (gazing into the never-ending skies to vijjal): vijjal bhai, I’ve got news..
vijjal: vvvot yyyour kkkonstipation is better
jindal: nathi nathi, I rewrote all my notes yesterday!!
vijjal: Kame???

Disgusted that Jindal out did him yet again… Vijjal walks away!!

jindal (breathing the air up there....and through is mammoth mush...yellls): came bake!!!


Act I
Scene 2:
Peteboy meets Bakwas at the bus depot and both are headed to the railway station. They are off to watch a movie as neither had/ could prepare for a Mechanics test.

pete: yaar bak’.. I ain't understanding horseshit for the mechanics kaa test man... I think we'll bunk that prof.mechanico’s lecture n catch some movie... What say??
bilkulbakwas: sure thing man. Now, given that we had planned to catch a movie instead of the test...remind me that I’ve gotto chuck the lousy dabba I packed from home
pete: who wants dabbba?? We’ll eat burgers & pizzas man!
bilkulbakwas: yeah....you know what, last night there was this news item on orkuch.com where they gave this mom an award coz she brutally beat up her kid coz he didn’t finish his chaas!!
pete: these god-dame-d gujju’s

Just when pete n buck are about to enter the lane leading to the station, they hear footsteps scurrying towards them

pete: he he he he
bilkulbakwas: don’t laugh man...if it weren't for those creepy jnv (jindal and ....) I would have thrown my IC Engines book at him man
pete: What?? Is it them?? GULP! Is it? Is it.... J........

Suddenly

jerry (a “cute” friend of pete and bakwas): hi guys?

Wary that it’s JNV pete and bakwas hurriedly...tuck their shirts and lick they're hair down

bilkulbakwas (turning behind): (sigh)...sheesh kabab, jerry...I got a startle...by the way nice blouse.
pete (blinded by jerry’s HEPPYDENT SMILE) : (laughing) jerry!!!!
Jerry to bakwas: its original GURU wear man! Anyway you guys heard about peteRR....dude got busted by JNV near mankhurd for using deo!!!
pete: whaat? No way!!! I just bought a AXED kaa deo
bakwas: I thought that guy would have learnt his lesson after they busted his ass for wearing a bandana in ghatkopar
jerry: poor guy got the mamamamamamotormouth.....
peteboy: ouch!! Not the motormouth!!!!
bakwas (to peteboy): dude...hide the deo someplace man....those guys!!!!....
jerry: yeah...apparently it started raining while Vijjal was at it!!!...it was caught on camera too...

Act II (The Interrogation)
Scene 1
Location: About 200 meters from the station

After a bit Jerry hurries of to college…had to do some last minute studying for the test!!! Bakwas and Pete are headed to the station when Pete reminds Bakwas to empty his tiffin. Just as bakwas was emptying his dabba …the side parted, juggu speaking duper heroes Jindal and Vijjal make an entry… …

jindal grabs Bakwas’ baig and goes: Su
bakwas: Nope I don’t wanna
vijjal: SSSu Suu
bakwas (in a cocky tone): Kya jabardast karvayega (will you force me to??)??

…and then after a sudden burst of inspiration

vijjal (bursts): SU KARICH
bakwas and pete (in unison): Aila JnV!!!

Scene III (The chase sequence)
Location: Just outside the station

Bakwas manages to free himself from the clutches of the Nail Polished JnV and tries to catch up with Peteboy. Bakwas is trying to figure why Peteboy running to the station, which is a virtual dead end. But nothing can stop Pete from Hamra Himesss Bhai!! Caught between Himess and possible liberty Bakwas chooses Himess (at the least he’ll not be the only one getting clobbered, especially after the gruesome Poor Peter- Deo fiasco).
Peteboy hurtles past college and office goers like a shoe maker on a mission. Bakwas follows closely like a heat seeking missile on steroids. They make it through one subway…Whoops wrong platform…another subway…AAARRRGGGHHH…another wrong platform…Third time lucky they make it to the right platform but with no avail. The train headed theatre-ward isn’t expected for another 13.5 minutes.

Scene IV (The maybe we outran them sequence)
Location: Platform No. 5/6

Bakwas and Peteboy creep out from behind a pillar with their backs towards each other.

peteboy: Dude, looks like the coast is clear
bakwas: Same here and since its 8:10 (15 mins to Assembly at College), I guess these guys’s must’ve given up
peteboy: I doubt that
bakwas: Think about it…
peteboy: Jo Bhi Yaar…Chodd…tere paas ticket ke paise he na (What ever dude…you have money for the tickets right)
bakwas (with a huge smile): he he he …
peteboy: what??
bakwas: I pulled a sexy scam.
peteboy (also with a huge smile): kyu?? Tu kya kiya… (Why? What did you do?)
bakwas: I sold PUG’s and my semester 2 books?
peteboy: What do you mean Uday’s and mine…?
bakwas: That’s the scam part nah!!

Suddenly Peteboy drops a jaw coz from against the light he sees a tall lanky weirdo who cannot be mistaken. Bakwas knows the look on Peteboy’s face.

Peteboy (with mouth wide open): Jai Mata Di Bak man!! (Rendition of: “Holy Cow, Batman!!”)

Bakwas grabs onto Peteboy’s bag and is about to turn when a paper glides under his foot. It’s a paper that Bakwas knows. It’s his Father’s Angel’s journal sheet!! On it written in more than 3 colors is written “Dare To Not To Stamp!!” Bakwas and Peteboy have no idea what it means but they know that this sure implies trouble.
(IN SLOW MOTION): From amidst the crowd on the platform a be-mustached lanky person, with pleat less pants, a see through embroidered shirt and black formal shoes appears. Bakwas can’t help but laugh at Vijjal’s quivering lips…contagious though his laugh may not be…peteboy notices the lips and breaks into a hysterical guffaw too. Little do they know this is the build up to MMMMMOTORMOUTH!!!
Aghast in desperation Bakwas looks yonder to the clock, 0815 is what it reads.

bakwas: JAI MATA DI PETEBOY MAN!!!


Scene IV (The station ma fight sequence)

0815! A whole 15 minutes with JnV!

bakwas: For pete’s sake boy I told you we should’ve studied for the test!! (Bakwas’ eyes are trying to tell Peteboy to follow his lead)
peteboy: Huh??
bakwas: Peteboy…didn’t I miss call you at 7:47 late last night??
peteboy: WTC man?? (then the tube-light glows)….oh!! you’re jo….
bakwas (cutting Peteboy short): YES!! YES!! I called you nah
peteboy (finally catching on): Yes you miss called me at 7:47 “late” last night!!

Jindal wont take any of this nonsense….which is actually too confusing for him.

jindal (to the skies): don’t think you can make us yeda (mad).
bakwas (realizing Jindal is longitudinally cock eyed replies): arre come on Jindal why would we make you yeda??
peteboy: We were discussing Mechanics
vijjal: NanananananananaNo

Unable to resist the fun in Vijjal’s NananananaNo Peteboy and Bakwas burst out laughing. Unaware whats happening JnV also start laughing. So now everybody is laughing. Thinking that this mindless laughing could cover a sly exit, Peteboy and Bakwas try and make a run for it. Buy amidst the laugh…three blunt objects hit Peteboy’s back…he yelps in pain…and looks on the ground to find not one, not two, but three pens on the ground. This was like the Zorro except that the pen is mightier than the sword, or so these GujjuGaandas literally thought.

Bakwas is in a dilemma, whether he should do what is logically right and leave Peteboy’s fat ass and run for it or be an idiot and help Peteboy out. The duffer chose the later, a bad…very bad choice indeed. Bakwas could imagine what was to come. Be compelled to sit beside or smellier still behind the two Khakra Kings, study from their immaculately written notes. The notes of the mindless babble that the lecturer would puke out hours on end, day in and day out. But this situation demanded more thought JnV. This was real bad stuff in their eyes. Two non-gujju’s, throwing dabba, bunking college and not giving taste (gujju for test).

Jindal put his giraffe like arm around Bakwas, the damp patch under his shoulder was enough to knock Bakwas out cold. Peteboy in all his pain comes to Bakwas’ side.

peteboy: Hey bakwas…are you alright??

He doesn’t get an answer!!

peteboy (more concerned this time): Bakwas Dude are you alright?? Do you want me to fetch some smelling salts??

White in shock Bakwas springs into life when he hears Smelling Salts. It slips Peteboys mind that JnV are also called Smelling Salts.

bakwas (dazed): What happened man?? The last I remember was….. (he’s unable to get over the image).
peteboy (to bakwas): Hurry up dude, JnV have almost picked up what ever they dropped.

Bakwas and Peteboy hobble back into the subway and they sit at the last step trying to catch their breath. Tic Toc Tic Toc…Bakwas and Peteboy anticipate a hottie in tight pants and a see through blouse. They get just that and more. Aila JnV.

Bakwas and Peteboy don’t have the energy to run anymore…They give up…They surrender.


Act II
Scene I (The Auto rickshaw ma 3rd Degree)

Ruthless JnV force PnB to squeeze into a rickshaw. Peteboy hopes he’s beheaded halaal style. Bakwas hopes he faints before they unleash hell upon them.
The ask Pete and Bakwas the make or break question.

jindal: Doo yoo have Rupiss 4 eech??

The ride from the station to college is Rupees 16…hence the “Rupiss 4 eech”

bakwas (full of his cocky self): We were going for a movie mug pot!!

Infuriated with Bakwas attitude Vijjal Burrps and Jindal Pssts from down…that was the last I remember!!

Legend has it Bakwas and Peteboy attended assembly and duly flunked the test soon after. Jindal topped the “taste” and Vijjal was heartbroken as he stood a meager 10th. They say alls well that ends well….WHAT A FUDGING LIE!!!

Conclusion: Thanks to VnJ all truanters around ghatkopar, mulund and vashi shudder at the sound of VnJ, Aila JnV is what they ultimately say!!

CHRONICLES OF ‘CAR’NIA - the robot, the glitch and the hard-luck!!!

In my four years of engineering, the only thing that I really enjoyed was participating in LEVEL-I robotics competitions at ‘TECH-FESTS’ in various engineering colleges all over Mumbai. Although these were “national level events”, most of the teams that took part were from Mumbai’s colleges itself. What was so interesting about this robotics competition was the fact that it was the only means by which I could learn new stuff, get new ideas about engineering field, gain some practical knowledge and catch up with old friends who often come to such events. These events always had big prize money and winner’s certificates (extra curricular activities make an engineer’s profile stronger) to lure me to enter the competition and it also allowed me to participate in ‘bird-watching activity’, something that I could not pursue in my penitentiary.

The unfortunate few who are into engineering know what these events are like. For those who are not, here goes:-

A ROBOT in level-I competition is a 4-wheel car which operates on 12-30V DC power supply. It generally consists of 4 motors (one for each wheel) whose one end is connected to a remote-control via wires (yes, very lucid explanation, isn’t it) and the other to the power source. In short, it is an unmanned vehicle also known as a toy-car.

A TEAM generally consists of 4 individuals who share a common goal (of winning) and are full of energy & enthusiasm until they get knocked out of the competition & then start blaming each other for the loss till they come to know about the next event. The 4 man team should split the work in such a way that on the day of the event, two members repair the car, one keeps a tab on the competition and the fourth one is busy cracking silly jokes & getting nostalgic with his old friends (hey! Don’t look at me...i am the one doing the “repair” work...get it...”REPAIR” work). During the event, one guy drives the robot (via remote), one guy holds the wire so that the car does not get tangled in it, one guy keeps an eye on the opposition for possible violation of rules & the 4^th one is still cracking jokes.

An EVENT in level-I consists of a racing track which is mostly an obstacle course. The car has to complete the course in some stipulated time period. Rules and regulations are almost similar everywhere. The event goes on for 2 days, day 1 for eliminations which are time-trialed & day 2 for pre-quarters, quarters, semis & final races which are one-on-one.

Now that everyone is acquainted with the term ‘robotics’, here are a few real life incidents which occurred during my team team’s tryst to win the coveted prize. TEAM PETEBOY’s CHRONICLES of CARnia at robotics competitions:-

1) Build an all aluminum robot-car which will have a unique steering mechanism. This makes the car so bulky it literally crawls on flat surface and does not climb an inclined surface with inclination angle greater than 5^o . You end up spending 2000 bucks on car which will get you disqualified for not completing the course.

2) Ok. Now you know how other teams build cars using lightweight materials. So, you build a new robot-car out of plumbing accessories viz the tee-joints, the cylindrical pipes etc so that the motor is press-fitted in the pipe and wheels are mounted on the motor shaft using a super-glue.

When the car has to tackle an obstacle course which has angle-channels as speed-bumps, the car see-saws on it and you get disqualified for not completing the course on time.

3) When one of the motor burns out due to mysterious reasons, you cannot replace it because you have super-glued the wheel to it and applying excessive force on wheel to remove it means the wheel is going to break as crack developed in the hub just got wider. This means an automatic disqualification as the rules clearly state “robots with 3 wheels are not allowed.”

4) For the next event, you somehow find a spare wheel to mount on the spare motor. You struggle to press-fit the motor in the pipe and are disqualified for not reaching the event ‘on time’.

5) Still trying your luck with the same old car, you participate in another event and your hopes to win the event end when the press-fitted spare motor with spare wheel pops out when the event organizer says “GO!”

6) You build a third robot which is even lighter than the previous two, does not have any press-fits & wheels are screwed to the motor shaft. You clear the first round (whew!) and are the first team to participate on the 2^nd day (pre-quarters). Once the head-to-head racing starts, you win after a tight finish but since your teammate who was holding the wire stepped on the racing track thereby damaging it (actually his stepping over caused the chalk marks to disappear), you are disqualified as the rules clearly say, “the participants should not damage the track surface. If caught, it will result in direct disqualification.”

7) This is the 7^th event you are participating in. you have mastered the art of qualifying for the pre-quarters by continuously being the fastest car to complete the required course. Everything looks fine until the remote control connections come out & you cannot figure out which wire goes where at the heat of the moment...c’mon, it’s never happened before...I mean, with the wheel...you know what’s wrong atleast!!! Sheesh!!!

8) Repairing the remote has made robot go even faster for this event (no more leakage currents). On the way to the event, you hang the utility kit on the rear holder of your bike and zoom to the event. On reaching there, you find that the utility kit is on there...the only thing hanging on the handle is the HAND of the plastic bag...err...the handle must have given away. You loose the QF race because you cannot stop thinking of the utility bag. Screws, spare motors, wheels, power source, soldering iron...everything was there in it.

9) Another QF. The opposite team has two really hot chicks in it. The obstacle course has pin-balls around which the car is to be maneuvered so that none of them fall. Each pin-ball has 10 second penalty written on it. But your driver who goes by the name ‘D-FOOL’ is thinking about maneuvering other curves while he flirts with those two chicks and unknowingly holds the remote the other way round. FORWARD becomes reverse, REVERSE becomes forward, “1-2-3-GO!” and the pin-balls come tumbling after. Need I say more?

10) New event, another QF, same opponent. A close win & you are in semi-finals. Here’s a twist. The 2 hot chicks are able to convince the event-head that it was unfair of him to say “1-2-3 GO!” when they had practiced on “Ready, Steady, Go!” They demand a re-match; you cannot revolt because they are HOT! & you loose the race coz... “I think she FL****ED”... “THOSE B****ES”.

11) A semifinal where the task is to push all 10 balls in the net within 4 minutes. Your driver publicly declares that he can complete the task in not less than 90 seconds. 3 minutes and 57 seconds down & 7 balls to go....

12) This event is organized by a college where your best friend studies. What more, he even is a sub-sub-event-head and he promises a fair battle if at all you are pitted against a team representing his college. Come the semifinals and you are drawn against the home-team. Whole college is at the racing track. A tight race which we think we won but the main organizer turns out to be a nepotist. You turn to your best friend for justice & he stands by you & speaks out, “actually, I didn’t see what happened as I was waving at my girlfriend. Besides, I am just a volunteer; he is the event head...his decision, final decision.” The best friend is never to be seen again.

13) Big semi-final at a big event. Big prize money at stake. A course which comprises of a sand-pit followed by an iron-mesh bump. Every team has struggled to due lack of grip. Experience is the greatest teacher which means you are prepared for anything. Lack of grip was never a problem as you clean the wheels of our robot after every race. Knowing that your opponent has an underperforming car, you offer them the cleaning brush; that is sportsmanship, isn’t it? The race starts and what something which never happened till the SF happens for the first time. Your car suffers from lack of grip, your opponent, who could have struggled if his car’s wheels weren’t clean enough, sails to victory!!!

14) It’s the final. You haven’t put a foot wrong. You have been the fastest car on track till now. The other finalist looks tensed but you are not.

SWITCHES...checked!

ALIGNMENT...checked!

CONNECTIONS...checked!

MOTORS...running...checked!

DISTRACTIONS....checked em out yesterday...and its the FINALS...so please...

ON YOUR MARKS, GET SET, GO!!!... “Oh! Superb start...the car tackles the speed bumps with effortless ease...cuts the apex of the corner...jumps up the ramp...and lands on all 4 wheels...the opponent is being left behind...the car comes out of sand pit and onto the mesh...no slip-ups...another jump...perfect landing...finish line just centimeters away...oh you can smell the victory atlast...the crowd cheers for you...

GODDAMNIT!!! It’s the WRECHED WHEEL AGAIN!!!!............................................................”

- peteboy

PET PEEVE

The other day, my mom & I were watching ANIMAL PLANET when all of a sudden she started telling me that having a pet would definitely get rid of certain ennui that had crept in our house. She believed that spending some time with the pet, playing with it would act as a stress buster & would eventually help me concentrate on my studies.

Get a pet? Now? What am I, seven? Funny but when we were watching DISCOVERY the previous night, she never thought of buying the latest i-pod or the new XBOX-360 that was shown. Get a PET!!!!!

You see, I am not an animal person. Though Garfield, TOP CAT and SILVESTER are really cool cartoon characters, I hate cats. It is the second most selfish creature on earth…first being me offcourse. They like to be pampered only when they are in a mood to get mollycoddled. Worst thing about them is that they will damage your stuff and yet you can’t do anything about it since there is that innocence in their eyes. So getting a cat is totally out of question.

Next to a cat comes a dog. Personally, I have nothing against the dogs but I think they are stupid. If one dog barks, the others bark. If dogs were to talk and if you were to ask anyone of them on why he barked, you’d probably get a reply which goes, “I dunno! He started it. I merely followed.” And then if you were to ask the dog who started all this, his reply would be, “I dunno… I just felt like barking…because I can bark.” Not only this but this creature will chase anything that seems to travel faster than it even if it happens to be its tail. And all of a sudden, it will stop chasing whatever it is chasing because, “Ughh, I don’t know why I am chasing it in the first place.” SO DAMN STUPID!!!!

After cat and dog comes a fish. It is said that having a small aquarium in a house does improve your level of concentration. But having an aquarium is a high maintenance job. One has to feed the fish thrice a day, clean the tank twice a week and buy new ones once a month because they keep dying due to mysterious circumstances. Not my cup of tea.

So, an hour long discussion, the ‘pet’ issue stalemated. The next day I woke up only to find out that my granny was bitten by a RAT. That’s right, a rat. How he entered our house was not an issue, how to get rid of him ASAP was and I kid you not, this rat was one tough S.O.B.

That very night, my dad & I, with sticks in our hand, were all set to beat the shit out of him. We were able to trace down his route and apparently I was standing in his way. So, the rat went over my leg, my dad went to whack him & CRACK! I heard my toe-nail get shattered. Operation RAT-WHACK failed and the rat never took the same path again for his night-walk.

For the next two days, he was nowhere to be seen although he had eaten couple of potatoes…bits of em…maybe he didn’t like them…maybe they weren’t sweet enough for him. Maybe. By now, granny had harassed grandpa regarding this uninvited guest or rather this pet of ours and poor old gramps, with a cane in his hand, went about hitting everything in sight except the rat if at all he showed his face to us. A Broken lamp-post and a telephone later, even he gave up.

Meanwhile my dad was still fancying his chances and bought a mouse-trap. Fried fish, papad, cheese and potato chips were used to lure him and he managed to steal the bait, eat it & shit there but never get caught. Dad even bought MORE-TEEN, the fancy rat-kill medicine whose punch-line was “ONCE THEY EAT IT ZIP-ZAP-ZOOM, THE RAT WILL MEET ITS DOOM.”
Talk about show-boating man…our “pet” ate 3 whole packets of MORE-TEEN and all we saw the next morning was truck load of RAT POOP.

My advice to MORE-TEEN: - advertise your product as a LAXATIVE for RATS and NOT as a RAT-KILL medicine.

I bought rat poison from a roadside “RAT PIOSON” wala (no typo here) and he instructed me how to use it effectively. He also warned me to wash my hands with detergent since the acid used was pretty darn lethal. Ironically, while I was buying the poison, one exasperated man came there searching for poison which could kill a dog. Why? Coz a certain dog in his alley was multiplying at an alarming rate, was barking late nights right outside his house and for no reason kept chasing him when he rode on his bike. (see… I told you dogs are stupid).

Anyways, I would have loved to tell you happened next but the rat nibbled the wires of my PC. The cyber café owner is telling me that my 30 mins are up and I am supposed to be at bakwas’ place right now watching a movie called THE DEPARTED… and oh yes…the movie is also about a rat.

Peteboy

Mere Do Do Appa

Hi, I am a 67 year old father of two children, the older of the two isn’t of much consequence here and so the subject of what I write will be my son bakwas, as you’d probably know he’s a 22 year old KID, who believes that trough his childhood he didn’t get all the attention he needed. So now he squanders his life trying to get back every ounce of what he lost. Yes people, bakwas is your everyday attention monger. Barely hidden behind his I don’t give a shit attitude there is a “ Thoda, atenshun deo shayt” (literally translate into “Little attention give businessman”) guy.

People make themselves heard mostly when they have some thing to flaunt or when they have some grievance, now bakwas isn’t a sexy butt or a gorgeous face!! And yeah, I come to you to make myself heard. Bakwas is out of line, he hardly has any sense of responsibility, you can’t rely on him, and he believes that daddy dear will get him out of every ditch he falls into. Bakwas’ guide, The Man Who Wanted To Place ‘Em All once sensibly said “iska to father jyada aate he college ko” literally translated to “his father comes more often to college”….people I am that father…I have to frequent his college for those lame ass, non productive and non interactive parent teacher interactions or for bakwas’ melees with his teachers especially those artificially intelligent ones (who you see nah, invested 324 crores way back in 1886!!..in MIT) or arranging industrial visits for them….lemme tell you something, his bleeding department expects me to ask some Babu for permission for an industrial visit, subject to cancellation!!! You morons….that babu is a Chief Engineer who is amongst my prime customers…you want me to ask him for a PROBABLE visit to one of HIS dams!!! One thing is for sure Angels isn’t gonna do much good for my son bakwas.

Over the years bakwas’ antics have changed…from burning beds (minus people, fortunately) to the latest when he came back home stinking of 5 bottles of beer and a stick of chewing gum, you might wonder how I knew of the 5 bottles of beer and a stick of gum…believe you me, a moron would’ve known. Hell you want attention, you’ll get it loud and clear!!

Like this wasn’t plain daft, he sneaked the car out even more recently…do I dare ask why he sneaked it out?? The cockiest part is that although like a million people, from his house-keeper to the watchman are ready to testify against this jack ass, he has the audacity to say it’s all a big mistake, obviously not on his part!! Now, being his father I aint gonna deny my sonny some attention, so more…”scream and shout, shake your body and move the ground!!!”

I’m not sure what the norm about booze and fast cars is around here, but in my defense I am a 67 year old person, bakwas has cousins whose children who are as old as him…evidently I’m from a generation where, a son is a son and not a friend. Booze, fast cars and chicks are not the a-b-c’s of Bakwas’ bringing up. But neither I nor bakwas are ready to accept that! In my gritty generation, showing affection to a son ends when the child is 10!

Four years ago I brought bakwas to Mumbai with the thought that, before bakwas ventures out on his own, I’d spend some time with the lad…lemme tell you bakwas adds a new dimension to “some time”, he makes “some time” a Quasi Static process. I didn’t get bakwas into Angels because I have the money, it’s because I believe this bum can: a. do some justice to the course and b. benefit from it! Bakwas is a smart bloke, there is this nice creative streak in him and I mean it when I say this, he can be SENSIBLE.

See I live with this notion that kids of his age are busy studying 12 hours a day, this guy does almost that much a couple of days before his exam…..I mean how smart is he?? I see that he spends a lot (of everything) on this hot-shot project of his…but if a little of that fervor went into his acads..he would definitely NOT get to the stars nor the moon, but his GREat aspirations would seem a little less far fetched. But all he wants to do is go for these industrial visits, I mean all credit goes to Angels for organizing a whooping 3 industrial visits each SEMESTER, one which he goes with his friends out of personal interest, latest of which was to industry laden Lonavala and the other two with his class…he he if industry laden Lonavala was asinine, ever hear about the mechatronics exhibition where attendees had to sleep over!!! Guess Angels does something for their students after all.

I hope he understands what I’m getting at…but I still believe that he shouldn’t watch vulgar serials like “Friends”, I mean the kissing and the groping uuurrgghhhh and yes, I believe his wife will give birth to the new and improved Christ.

Sr. Bakwas

SEM V WITH I'S

After I screwed up my class twelve grades I had my heart set on doing what my sibling did and become a Computer geek…and I was pretty into it to…since class 9 the only subject I preferred doing was Computers…you know why….coz I wanted to be a Computer Engineer…but yeah, as luck turns out ….i’m 6 months away from graduating with a BE (MECHANICAL)…and that’s not what computers are called these days!!

Kids want to be Sachin, Sehwag, Kapil or Kumble if you’re desparate (nobody wants to be Kambli)…my parents had a similar idea, only this didn’t have anything to do with Sehwag or Sachin, hell this didn’t have anything to do with cricket or for that matter sports….my parents wanted me to be a PJ…Pandit Jasraj. They’re theory was if 1 or 2 people in the family could make a buck or two out of music…what must stop our son!!! Principle of Induction at its best!!

As a kid, like every third kid on the block I wanted to become a pilot, and I reckon I had a couple of real hunky uncles (note: anybody older than you, who isn’t your dad is an uncle….get that Webster!!) were pilots….and the more I goo-goo’d that I wanted to be one of ‘em the more I got to dip my fingers into their whisky and soda!! Given all the fauji’s in my khandaan…becoming a pilot shouldn’t have been tough! So I was advised to study at the Rashtriya Indian Military College, but the only thing between RIMC and me, was diarrhea… I think that was the only time my dad was proud of me….my son didn’t even have to give the exam, NOT to get into RIMC. Thus ended the dj and the fauj saga.

It was then that my sister give me a whiff of the moolah!! And I think the order of those days was IT, and I swore that day I was gonna become a comp geek!! Since then, which is class 8 all my electives have been computers.

My dad has been to a WHOLE lot of places abroad, his job was of that kind….and that was my next dream….to visit as many countries as my dad did. Now neither did I have the money to do it by myself nor did have the PR that my dad has to get a job that would take me places….and wallah the Indian Foreign Service keeda took form!! But no sooner did I realize the quanta of work that went into becoming one than the fervor waned.

Come class 9, I was exposed to the realm of nuclear chemistry, that brought alive the Nuclear Scientist in me…I couldn’t wait to assemble a nuclear bomb man…and hey, I knew the difference between a fission and fusion bomb!! But when I checked out the Nuclear Science course in MIT ( I had no idea I was to land up as a Fathers Angel!!) and read all that thermal blah….no sir…maybe some other time!!

It was around that time that I realized that I could make people laugh (I was not aware of the “laugh with not at” theory). So after a week of “Whose Line Is It Anyway” I wanted to be Ryan Stiles….then I heard the Jim Carrey story and along the way bumped into the “laugh with and NOT BE LAUGHED at” theory. So it looked pretty clear to me Comp Engg it was gonna be.

At boarding school you either be stud or grovel in the gravel…so I had to play a game apart from, who can finish the beer can first…I was no good at Basket Ball…cricket wasn’t my forte, tennis is what my dad wanted….that got ruled out right there….so football it was. Now I had to become a Raul or a Giggs…so my dad put it in perspective for me “you get into Tata Football Academy, and you can quit school”….yeah if they let me play more than 60 minutes I would. Ever since, football has been analogous to TV.

Now at boarding school you also have to find a way to attend as few classes as possible, LEGALLY please note. Now, that was done via Band Practice….I enrolled myself in the school marching band…I learnt the C D E F’s of music and then started dabbling with the guitar that was lying around in our dormitory…its this Satrianic prowess that led me into playing for a GOOD band in Hyderabad (my adopted home!!)…so a couple of Metallica albums later I was ready to sell my soul to the devil and in exchange have him teach me to play the guitar. Yeah let’s say, that didn’t work out too good!!! But tension not, I still have the comp geek option…only now it seemed less of an option and more of a compulsion.

The funny thing is that while career options whizzed past me…my folks were certain that if not PJ, their son was gonna pull off a Bill Gates!! So after I screwed my ISC, I waltzed to Mumbai, actually more like stuck my head between my legs and hoped no utensils hurled at me actually got to me and I moved in with my dad. Coupled with rotten luck and good PR, my dad got me into Fr. “Angels”. For those of you who know what its like out here, I actually told my dad that if I were to study in Mumbai, I wasn’t gonna study in any D J Sanghvi or RAIT (D Y Patil)….they’re names didn’t quite appeal to me…I was gonna study only in Fr. “Angel”. Yeah, “be careful what you wish for, it just might come true”….Congrats, you got into “Angels”…and just as I was Ho Ho Ho’ing to myself…..he added, but there is a catch, they’ve put you in the Mechanical Department….WHAT??? I don’t want to become a mechanic daddy….no it’ll be fine. We’ll ensure you get a switch….yeah and here I am a computer engineer…. NOT.

At first I wasted a lot of time believing that I’d get into the AC’d labs of the Comp Dept, but come my first KT and I was stuck with Mechanical ad infinitum.

I tried being positive “may be I’ll head Mercedes’ truck division one day” and then I’ll sit atop a 100 crores!!! Or maybe just work my brains out for a 40….I wisely chose the latter.

The past 7 semesters went by with a few more “ambitions”, being a music journalist was one of them, I gave it a shot. I sent my friend, a music magazine sub-editor an article I wrote; he hasn’t spoken to me ever since!!

I’m 22, my folks expect me to share the load….but don’t I have to do my MS first, says I ….you’re on your own on this one laddie, says daddy!! So as I hurtle between things I hope I find my true calling…hopefully sooner than later!!! But you know I must admit, when I see people who have it all sorted for them…I find it a tad mundane!! So maybe there is a purpose for the delay!!!

As of now I just want to focus on being an ambidextrous Kung Fu fighting China man…yeah I see that happening!!!

Bakwas

KYA HOGA MEE-MOH KAA???

Ok! Hold your breath because the news that I am going to tell will make you jump out of your seats. Alright...get ready for this...buckle up.

Thanks to brother bilkul’s contacts down south & their contacts down south & their contacts’ contacts down south, we have just got THE copy of THE script of THE movie which is going to be MEE-MOH’s launch pad...his ticket to stardom. The movie that will shake this world; the movie that will put all debutant actors to shame; the movie that will gross more money than any other movie once it releases.

I need not tell you who MEE-MOH is. Only hint I can give is that he is the son of an acting LEGEND; the SUPERSTAR who has given us blockbuste(d)r movies such as Cheetah, Shera, Hitler, Tabahi-the destroyer, Military Raaj etc to name a few; the disco-dancer who delivered these famous dialogues “tere jaat kaa baida maaru” & “aye,Kya re ??” which when translated in English sound “your caste’s eggs I throw” & “hey, WHADDAP” respectively.

Enough of beating around the bush, its time I reveal the story. Well, not everything. So here goes:-

The movie goes by the name “FINDING MEE-MOH” & it is a story of a DAD & his son & their struggle against today’s cruel filmi-world. Now, dancing-dad is a one-time bollywood super dud...no...I mean super stud. On one bright & sunny day, he is on the way to drop his son MEE-MOH for an audition. Obviously, MEE-MOH wants to ape his dad & be an actor. (by now, you must be comparing this story line with a famous anime movie-Finding Nemo...but trust me, this ain’t...and no one knows this but FINDING MEE-MOH was scripted well in advance & so the director & producer are suing DISNEY-PIXAR for stealing their title).

MEE-MOH’s attempts to crack into showbiz turn futile as the bollywood industry is run by godfathers like DON YASHRAJONE, DONNA K-JO, DON BARJATIONE, & DON ROSHANIONE. As MEE-MOH is not related to any of these families nor is he favored by them, MEE-MOH becomes increasingly frustrated. Even Factory owners like RAMMED-U preferred working with untalented members of his Union. Baby AB got movies directed by DON YASHRAJONE’s sons & heroes from outer space did wonders for DON ROSHANIONE. Donna K-JO had King-DON in every K-movie of it while DON BARJATIONE shot only marriage videos. Newly crowned don DON FARFAN was into remaking don-centric stuff. This was working totally against MEE-MOH. There was no place where he could show off his talent as no godfather was on his side.

So, after yet another rejection, all hell breaks lose as MEE-MOH decides to take matter in his own hands. He decides to produce-direct-script-act-sing-dance all the movies in which his dad had acted by either re-making them or by making their prequels & sequels.

The DONS come to know about MEE-MOH’s plans & so the team up together & secretly declare a full-fledged attack on him. Within couple of hours after “muhurat” of his first film, MEE-MOH’s sister gets ganged-up (not gonna tell by how many goons) & dies soon after(dead tired & traumatized I guess). On hearing the news, MEE-MOH bursts into the DON kaa “adda” and slays the Factory workers. Enraged by this act, DON YASHRAJONE orders his younger son TOAD-FACE & baby AB to finish MEE-MOH once n for all. Baby AB does not like this as he secretly admires MEE-MOH but when DON YASHRAJONE fires baba AB from his syndicate, baby realizes that he has no choice.

TOAD-FACE & baby AB are no match for MEE-MOH as he butchers them & sends their dead bodies back to the DON camp. Shattered shocked by MEE-MOH’s action, DON ROSHANIONE sends his super powerful, masked son FRISSSSSH along with his aide-de-camp ALIEN BOY to kidnap MEE-MOH. Little does anyone know that ALIEN BOY who went back home & then came back again is not the ALIEN BOY that everyone thinks he is but is actually his good-natured evil twin brother BOY ALIEN who is now on MEE-MOH’s side.

DON camp comes to know something went horribly wrong in their last attempt to attack MEE-MOH as they receive FRISSSSH’s mask & cloak with a big ‘M’ printed on it!!! Finally, the entire DON camp, which is biting its nails, sends King-Don to end MEE-MOH story. Kind-Don succeeds in abducting MEE-MOH in presence of his dad!!! Why?? Coz “ King-Don ko pakkadna mmmmmmushkilll hi nahi.... balki naa mummmmmmkinn hai!!’.... “ummmmmhmmmmm hmmmmm” (yup..u got that one correct). & then comes INTERMISSION!!!!!!!!

So, what will MEE-MOH's dad do? How will he find his beloved son? Will the deadly duo finish the godfathers? Will bollywood’s casting couch & favoritism ever end? To find out more, watch the movie people!!

ITS COMING SOON... IN THEATRES & MULTIPLEXES NEAR YOU!!!!



Peteboy