beingdesh

Category: Memoirs, stories, and poems

  • Katti and the Art of Bicycle Maintenance

    That thumb, the stupid angutha, the one which appears on Thums Up bottles and nowadays keeps fiddling with blackberry, goes near the incisors and gets itself a bite, and Katti is what is said post that. After every small or big fight katti was our way of expressing disgust, frustration and anger towards a dear friend. And then the friends stopped talking, started giving each other dirty looks, talked through some common friend, start going to different locations during lunch break, get in different teams while playing cricket, started sitting in different rows. But then that was the age of innocence, pyaarapan, so few days later one of them would always come and make up. It was all so nice, there was so much fun in katti. It also had other variations like Khi-Mi, and inti-minti, all similar in nature, but with different actions. Even Munnabhai came up with a differently named Jhappi for resolving issues, but he underlying concept was that of Katti.

    Today during a brilliant discussion on bicycle repairing we again discovered that bit of innocence, the tricks behind chain chadhana, the action which was required for filling air into the tyres, “puncture banwana”, the bhudak bhudak sound which came when the cycle repair guy used to dip the punctured tube in water, the rubber patch which he use to shine and polish and then stick it with a red adhesive, all for Rs 2.5-3.5. There was a simple and cost-effective solution for every bicycle worry and it was fun getting it repaired. Bicycle maintenance taught me that solving problems can be fun, lot of fun.

    Now when people fight, it is not as simple as the good old katti, it is much more complicated, or they make it unnecessarily complicated. Bachpan was certainly better, plus we had a fun-filled way to repair fights. Katti was our tool of relationship maintenance.

    The tool is out of stock now, and they have stopped manufacturing it. I hope they start making it again and even grown ups start using it.

  • Fake it till you make it

    Sometime in mind 90’s I was sitting in my school auditorium with friends waiting for the swamiji to come. He used to come every year and used to interact with us. I don’t recall his name, but his face is so clearly etched in my memory, it had tonnes of happiness sprinkled all over it, and he seemed content with everything. In fact when I read Hesse’s Siddhartha years later I was reminded of him.

    Mamaji of one of my batchmates in school, Swamiji had left his family and a well-paid job as a Chemical Engineer (he studied at Jadavpur University, so many awesome engineers in the country came from there in the mid 70’s, ask a bong and their heart still beats for the place) to join Ramakrishna mission (around the same time DD showed the movie on Swami Vivekananda, in which Paramahamsa was beautifully played by Mithunda, and I also read some literature by both the teacher and disciple).

    That day Swamiji talked on the topic, of Fake it till you make it. He discussed it in the context of shedding away inhibitions, developing confidence and all. I don’t remember exactly what he talked but that phrase just stuck on. And I came across it again during the ethics course at SP, when we were discussing Geeta.

    You imitate something which you can’t do naturally, and slowly it becomes a habit and you are in a comfort zone with it. Like lets say one asks me to talk less for some days, even if I am uncomfortable doing it, slowly faking the habit can actually lead to me adapting and enjoying the change.

    Travel through the markets and you always see these distortions. Obviously many don’t observe it, but look closely and one is sure to find packs of well known brands Fair and Lively, Lux, Colgote, Bora Plus, Ankor swtiches, Paracheet, Detol and so many more. The market for counterfeit/fake/me-too (products which look and feel the same as original, many a times come from Registered companies, the visual elements are same but the names are slightly different) products in India is huge and continues to grow at a similar speed if not more as the real products are growing.

    I remember having this discussion with Sagar, KK and our Professor of Consumer Behavior (one of the best courses I did in the second year) on me-too brands and why does someone buy it. Well in most cases the prices are similar (for the retailer though the me-too brands offer heavy discounting), but the Indian consumer just goes for the colours and visual elements mostly. Like if he visits a small shop and asks for a toothpaste and receives something which is a red colored tube with white font over it and the symbols appear somewhat relevant he doesn’t event think. Same for a cream and a pink and white tube. Although we think its as practice prevalent in smaller towns and villages, how many of us actually check/inspect the products we buy? I even consider the main competitor of Glucon-D launched by a top FMCG company in the country to be a me-too, the visual elements are copied, and only after a court ruling they managed to get the family pic and the font changed (both of them so symbolic of the Glucon-D pack).

    If the appearance is mostly similar, you can actually push through the fake ones, and the original ones despite all their efforts are at loss. But in the long term does it work out for small players, or they just make some money and maybe will switch businesses or disappear over a period of time?

    In the past couple of years I discovered another huge market with a high penetration of fakes in the system, that of people. Although this is a much more complex market, its extremely difficult to identify fakes. Past couple of year I found many people who were experts in the art of faking, being a different person than what you are with many people, turnaround and not necessarily think the same about so many. Be best friends in front of the world and then crib about them behind their backs. You found them all over, from fighting on organizing events, to fighting over the best jobs. Even the hugs at final farewell parties, the singing together of Puraani Jeans / Yaaro Dosti songs (with so many people as if you are actually going to be in touch with even 10% of them over the next year). Talking bullshit about people in hostels and liking them on Facebook pics. So many things, so many instances. But its not bad, its just the way one is.

    And there were few who tried to be honest and conveyed whatever they thought about the person in front of them and mostly landed into trouble. But those who faked had a much better time, they didn’t fall into unnecessary jhamelas. Again not bad, but its just the way one is.

    Couple of them I knew very closely were what we called experts in faking, they had the ability to change the way they behaved with different sets of people and sometimes just kill the real feeling, brilliant they were! The visual elements were mostly same, so was the outer appearance, but the product was not the original one.

    So is faking worth it? I don’t know about that but certainly being honest is surely not worth it.

  • Bachpan ka Hawww, Bani Jawani Ki awww…

    Remember when we were kids and,

    • Someone fired an abuse like the dreaded S Word
    • Someone’s pant dropped by mistake
    • Someone choked up after going on stage

    Or when we were even smaller kids,

    • Someone wetted/soiled their pants
    • Someone forgot the multiplication table of 6

    we all used to say Hawww…followed by a handsome serving of shame shame, and even pappi shame.

    But as kids become older, and become much more mature, and much more facebook-ish, they found newer avenues and awww… came into being

    Awww… for me and a few others is the most irritating expression ever invented, it smells, sounds & looks very artificial. My first tryst with awww… came during the much forgettable days at vyapaar school, where ever pic on facebook was celebrated as an event of great victory & awww-ness.

    Then there were always those awww… girls, or awww… sisters as someone called them a few days back, they connected with a bond which ran through their cheeks, all the pics were loaded on facebook, cheek to cheek, neck slightly tilted, and a firey grin to top it up, and then followed up with a zillion aww-full comments. I think this is something which runs across all the b-schools as I have recently noticed.

    Awww moments are not only female centric, they can be a male phenomenon as well, where supposedly cute n hot girls click pics with sincere and honest guys (our yearbook describes everyone in the batch like that), and then people post the same aww-some comments.

    Some people like it, some dont, I certainly don’t, its sometimes like the screeching sound of thermocol, or that of fingernails on blackboard for me, but everyone is free to use whatever they want to, people might the same about my pet MAHAAN, so its ok.

    I am just trying to point out a trend, that’s it…awww…kay.

    p.s.: name is inspired from a famous writing which shows quite a lot on the wall paintings from Gwalior en route to Delhi on Indian Railways 🙂

  • The Times of Holi – Edition 1

    Sometime in 1996, somewhere in Chhattisgarh

    “Bhaiya kuch fugge (balloon) dena, arre yeh nahi, who paani waale”

    “Lo Beta, 5rs ke 100, rang wagera chahiye”

    “nahi bhaiya, who le liya, Thank you”

    Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,

    • 2 packets of Gulaal– my favourite- Yellow and Violet, the weirdest of combos
    • 2 packs of water waala colour, 1 Solid (choti bottle), one regular in both red & green
    • This year I have given away with pichkari, no use, small streams of water are of no use, metal pichkaris as shown in Sholay are not good too. Me and my friends have come up with a set of plastic bottles, cut & twisted to form nice pichku devices with maximum impact
    • Fuggas which need to be made into chotu hand grenades filled with water color
    • A set of old clothes, the only festival in the world where o0ne wears that. Although on television nowadays they show people wearing Super White clothes on Holi I think it’s a stupid idea. Every year this was the day when we dispatched our worst clothes (mostly torn by EOD). Although one of my friends use to wear the same trouser every year for holi (something which I tried on later)

    I woke up early, and we did a small pooja at home. Post that I applied Parachute Nariyal Tel on my body & face and hair. A yucky feeling but its ok, as everyone says it will help in removing the colour later on. And then I move out of C-655 Kaveri Vihar.

    Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.

    Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…

    After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
    After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.

    Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.

    Never better than at Korba…

    This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.

    Hope you have read the Navratri collection,

  • Left Behind

    Once upon a time, there used to be this colony of around 200 ants. They had been living together, happily for around a year and a half now next to a small river. There colony had the best stocks of food, good climatic conditions in the area, and above all great antz. They were fun loving and used to enjoy each other’s company. They had fun in outings, in the functions and even the sports festival which they celebrated. Then came the day of the great rains which continued for a few days. The river overflowed and the ant colony came under threat. A group of 20 odd engineer ants created a bridge for the ants to cross the river safely. Slowly they started crossing & around 150 of them crossed the bridge to move towards safety. Rest were stuck on the island created due to rains & river as the bridge broke down after that. Still the team of around 20 kept on trying to recreate the bridge.

    End 1:

    Engineers kept trying to reconstruct the bridge with great difficulty. Rest of the ants who had crossed seldom cared. Few of them did, but some of them went away to their homes, some started playing sports- cricket & football & handball, some went for trips, & some just didn’t care. Some kept on partying which the ants stuck on the other side used to witness. Even I sometimes attend those parties, & so do the other engineers. Every time the ants who had crossed partied the ants who were stuck felt sad. Few of them sent across signals of reassurance still the ants who were stuck were lost in hope. They were sad, and blamed their misery on fate.

    Somewhere in those engineers, I felt really confused, & filled with guilt at times. Why it has to be this way? Couldn’t we all be together. The bridge would be completed soon, and all of them would be able to cross, but why this indifference?

    End 2:

    Engineers got the help from the entire population of ants who had crossed. They worked day & night to help the rest of ants cross the river. The ants who were stuck felt reassured that the all their colony members are with them in this moment when they needed them the most. Although it took time for the bridge to complete still they were able to live through all this reassuringly.

    Me and my team of engineers was happy looking at all of us working together in these tough moments.

    There can be two ends, I know the way it is shaping now, and I also know the way we want it to end. Lets hope for the best.

  • Reliving छब्बीस जनवरी

    Happy Republic Day. Enjoyed a wonderful morning today at college, all the National Events tend to be extremely pleasing events, and as I felt today if it was not for them, we would completely disconnect from our cultural heritage.

    As a kid Republic Day (and even 15th August) used to be super fun. It started a week or 10 days before the D-Day. As a kid and even now I wasn’t that performance inclined. So as always I formed the chunk of the neglected extras on the day forming the part of MARCH PAST :). The superstars always were part of some dance, or group song. ( I was part of group song once, last row, because they wanted few guys who were tall in the last row, so far from mic, that no one can hear us. As a chotu child Group songs were occasions when our faced were smashed with Red Colored Circles, and thumb sucking kids we were used to running around on stage with nursery teachers chasing us :)).

    March Past practice was fun too, forming queues, using cliched phrases like arre one-arm distance lo na, Physical Education Teacher finding center stage apart from his usual student-thrashing activities etc. etc. Girls who were part of the March Past were a depressed lot too, because most of them anyways were part of dance, the girls who were not, were thoda sort of Tom-Boyish types as people said that time. Then there was the yatra-tatra-sarvatra drummer who was omnipresent during all practices of all kinds. Be it the regular march past routine, morning assemblies, tabla in annual function, any other instrument for annual function. He was the Music Teacher’s favorite and was groomed to be a Music Teacher in future, sadly ending as another engineer among us millions :). BTW this March Past was for commoners, the Scouts and Guides were the Elite class, we were just filler items.

    The D-Day used to start with Flag hoisting in school with Vande Mataram and ending with Jan Gana Man. Mostly students associated with the main event came to school (yes there was a lot beyond that, not even a part of the march past :)). We got an extra packet of the same goodie kit which we received a day prior to 26th Jan too (distributed among all township schools). Kit consisted of 1 Classic Parle -G (the then 100gm 4rs. to the now 82gm 4Rs.), Poppins (the then Rs.125, not to be found much nowdays, there is another interesting story about Poppins, but sometime later for that), couple of candies/lollipops and even dairy milk at times (used to change every year). Then we sat in a bus and moved to the main ground.

    All the township gathered on the Man Sarovar ground, the battleground of our numerous Cricket battles, fistfights, once visited by the great Narendra Hirwani and Sandeep Patil :). The ground was always full on these 2 national holidays and it was great fun to be part of the festive atmosphere.

    Most of the attention was always grabbed by Dance performances from across schools, award winners etc etc. The most depressing lot was always that of the March Past gang, who started the proceedings and then stood there for an hour till everyone danced, sang and received prizes. Whatever we did, we stood, got tired etc etc., but we never broke the one arm distance 🙂.

    After so many years छब्बीस जनवरी still evokes emotions, but not of that strength. But I am happy these things keep country’s culture running for a few more days before the roadie kind of people swallow it up completely.

    Also would like to remember the ones who lost their lives on 26th Jan’01 in the Gujarat quake, may their souls rest peacefully in heaven.

  • A Night at Lodhivali


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    Where the hell is everyone? I can’t find anyone today. Alone in room, no Khaut, no Sagun & Saachi. All gayab!!!

    Living with all 3 has been awesome, I have had great time with them over the past month. The highlight have been the sex education classes we conduct once in a while for Sagun, super fun. Plus me, khaut, shotu have got access recently to this amazing library of Hindi Erotica which is helping us in our mission to get Sagun upto sexually acceptable standards prevailing in modern times.

    Also Shotu has created this alias Jenny73153, Yahoo ID which we all use for chatting like a female, awesome fun with people calling a number XXX73513 and then Jiri picking up and acting like an escort service agent. Well enough of this.

    I think I should look in Pure Bhaiya’s room, one of my best buds in the senior batch. Awesomely brained & very hard working, I have real fun with him at times and he is a nice happy shappy types fellow. Cares for me & Sajeev a lot. I miss Sajeev though, quite some time since I experienced his histrionics, his would be a tale of simple boy going not so simple thanks to Sex (not the verb, but a proper noun, yes someone in flesh & blood, actually too much of flesh).

    Oh even Pure Bhai is out, where the hell is everyone, being late from office doesn’t mean you miss the action. I think they should be in our township mess.

    Trying to bring a revolution in Speech Technology, back in those days it was considered biggest thing after Graham Bell’s own invention, Voice Recognition and that too for so many regional languages. Daily office work included recordings, creating fancy scripts with JeDi, gaming & life lessons from dhavesh & his wonderful encounters with Bhakti our ex Mtech student. On top of it you had a bell labs return white shirted, steamy idli eating leader & a budding love story of geeky-techie IITian with a lady in office (who looked slightly older than him). The boss was a delightful idli-popping guy with super crisp white shirts (always) with changing trouser colours, accompanied by a recent Swiss import.

    Also featuring were a few other teams BREWing mobile apps, Voice apps team back in college & a traffic signal team famous for doing mostly nothing. That team consisted of a brainy happy & a geeky chunnu mobile.

    Walking down towards the mess I found chunnu sinking into his super cool blue displayed handset. Mobiles are a new thing, I have one from Siemens & it’s a rare thing to caryy one. But chunnu thinks in a few days everyone would carry this, I don’t think more than 10% of population would ever have it. Just now in May TRAI removed the incoming charges & at max it would let them sell a few more. This is a fad like many others.

    I reach the mess and the first thing I see is a somewhat odd looking BPS sitting with Methi on the roadside. BPS is not regular today, with his long hair messed up and his fingers waving, he looks….drunk.

    Are they all DRUNK???

    BPS calls me as he is towards finishing his awesome lecture to Methi (lectured only first & last time in his life on this date) on the topic of “Ladki %$%$% hoti hai”, also walking at a close distance were a few females. Well I would leave them out of this story.

    So BPS told me how I should stay away from girls and never get into them (I have strictly followed him after that J) and I could smell it. For the first time in almost 2 years I saw one of my friend’s in a drunk avasthta & it felt a bit funny. Well being in a dry state had resulted in a very different engineering college where students got a high from installing/uninstalling Linux, downloading movies & playing all types of games.

    Off I moved to the TT table. On the stairs I met this bearded guy who said high, wonder what he does here, he always stands here, doesn’t look like the chaukidaar but his beard looks irritating. Few of us ended up having a discussion on the possibility of him being gay & maybe even hitting on one of our “HEALTHY” friend.

    TT table was witnessing an amazing game of TT between (I don’t know who), but the spectator/referee was Pappa, his wavy hair sitting on top of a very brainy brain. But that day the brain had gone on hadtaal as he waved his mundi from side to side & kept on doing it continuously for indefinite time. When I approached to have a conversation he just sshhhed me away.

    I met Sacchi in mess & he told me about the party thrown by Pure Bhai for some reason. It seems lot of everything had been drunk & everyone was waving around. And then I met khaut…

    He shouted & became normal just the next moment. He asked me to play carom. The small boy who served us food in mess came to us and Khaut all of a sudden slapped him… “Ladkiyo ko pahle khaana deta hai, humein nahi “

    Small boy stunned & I was in a don’t know what to do state. So I just walked away from there. Later that night I had the scary task of walking back Khaut to our room.

    As I prepared my bed I thought, well I will never touch alcohol.

    Omitted a few incidents, changed a few names, all for fun. By the way I broke the pledge sometime in the summer of 2005, had a White Mischief with Shotu & co. at Mt. Abu, then waited till Bangalore & CAT incidents to let hell break loose. But this was my first true interaction with the concept of getting drunk. All thanks to Lodhivali J

  • Yellow

    All characters in this story are fictional and bear no resemblance to anyone dead or living

    2005

    After the great Mumbai floods engineers were repairing the sewer system of the city, an engineer mistakenly planted dynamite on one of the lines, the blast was big, and it released crores of tonnes of pure Golden shit on one of the suburbs of mumbai. To check the devestation all the shit was diverted to a large 25000 acre area designated for a SEZ soon. Area sinked, and it definitely stinked.

    In that plot was hidden long back, a treasure of immense value, all of it pure gold.

    Present Day

    Bhairav is the coolest rag picker in the town of Mumbai, has two of everything, but misses the essential thing which should exist in pair. Apprently his boxing buddy, Langdu Sethji with manly boobs and a raunchy paunch kicked him in his gehnas once. From that day, Bhairav yearns for everything in pairs.

    Langdu and Bhairav are the best rag pickers in town, but Langdu can swim saala, and that too in shit. Bhairav wants to go for treasure in the shit laden area, but Langdu says no.

    Langdu’s wife munni is an expert in picking rag underpants, which she even tries on herself at times. she is hot though and even Bhairav has the hots for her ;). Munni says she is poor (thats why lesser clothes) & wants to be rich & start a Safai Vidyalaya on the lines of one by Baapu at Ahmedadbad.

    Cut Scene– Andheri

    Langdu’s brother is the top begger in Andheri, popularly known as Spam he also rides in a haathgaadi (Shaan movie’s Mazhar Khan style). At night he takes part in an underground haathgaadi drifitng race. Haathgaadi race expert Don Karnash challenges him in front of his hot eucuch friend chikki. Chikki drops her pallu for the race to begin, and Spam wins it. Don Karnash asks spam to deliver a box for him which he misplaces. In between he falls in love with Chikki. Don Karnash him for life and even burns is haathgaadi. Spam hitchhikes and reaches the boundaries of Shithole where Munni, Bhairav & Langdu are waiting…

    (I am cutting on the hit song, Haggi Waggi, by Chilly Min-Hug and few other songs…)

    These guys hang out near the shit pond, singing Balluuuu, yeh saans pukaare, Baluuu…

    and all of a sudden appears Balu, along with Madam Ritika Mahalingam and Kid Cloud waala. Punter and Dolly are not seen though.

    It seems Balu is a dushman of Don Karnash & wants him badly. In the mean time Langdu developes a liking for Madam Mahalingam, much to the distaste of munni, who starts wearing even dirtier and smaller rags to catch his attention.

    Climax

    Don Karnash wants money from spam for loosing his box of whatever, 50 Mn Zimbabwean Dollars. As Spam and others are unaware about the latest currency rates they get scared and plan to go for the treasure. Balu has a seaplane which can carry them to shitpond and Langdu knows the location. It seems his dad almost reached the treasure. When he tells the story Kid Cloudwaala realises that he is Langdu & spam’s brother who got lost on the day of floods.

    But Langdu has a secret to share.

    It seems their dad was off to find some treasure and he found it somewhere in the mid of shit pond, but Langdu was having loosemotions that day, and he used to the pond to do you know what. The level started rising and his dad lost control and sunk and died. Langdu is scared of that place.

    But he is convinced and Balu drops him using his seaplane to the location. Here they put the anchor, Madam Mahalingam & Munni cook food and the guys go for treasure hunting.

    Shit main tairne ke teen golden rule,

    – Never breath
    – Hamesha Saath main raho
    – Never shit…otherwise, you know what can happen

    They find the treasure, but Don Karnash comes and as usual grabs the heroines. Then they come out of rooms and the dress area of their arms is removed (remember the old movies, what this signified, confused me ). Anyways heros have found the treasure now (100 20 KG toilets made of solid gold), but Balu starts breathing and dies of the smell, being heavy he sinks too. The others float back, fight and rescue heriones. Bhairav is found missing.

    Don Karnash tells everyone that he and Bhairav planned this and now he would kill everyone. Bhairav comes up and tells that he fooled everyone because Langdu being color blind too was the only one who could have spotted Yellow in Yellow. so he picked him and made a fool of him. He runs away and kills Don Karnash on the way by flushing him in the pond.

    Madam Mahalingam uses the seaplane to go away and other live happily, but one day Bhairav calls and tells them that he has progressed from being a rag picker to India’s largest toilet manufacturer, all Yellow in color. And Chikki is his wife or something.

    **The End**

    Request: Dont watch Blue, please

  • मदन – कहानी एक Pub की

    ***Starring ***Chipu
    ( I have decided to write a book on the life and times of this guy)
    Rattu
    Bhussu

    ***And***

    Dandit
    Mimpy
    Bho-Bho-ti
    Pat-rick
    Nippu

    ***Friendly Appearance***

    KAddu
    Piddu
    Anit Pacob Jillpose
    Khakre

    ***Scene-1 ***

    Somewhere on quite nice crowded street on Bangalore (crowd is implicit in Bangalore), ambling around are three stupid looking individuals, quite visibly mistaking the road as a Bird Sanctuary. ( For people in Bangalore I am referring the set of perpendicular roads connecting from Jyoti Nivas College-Koramangala 4th Block side to Forum-100ft road connection).

    But enough of birds, these guys have never got them, one of them although carries the distinction of breaking eggs :), lot of them :D. Who’s interested, Chipu, Rattu and Bhussu just want some beer, and they will get it at Madan Pub. Small shabby looking place where evil ideas thrive, men with rotten faces, dirty lungis and unbrushed moustaches laugh like Ashok Vatika Sita Kidnappers, light is dim, TV always throws a classic Rajkumar Classic (the same one always where he plays a Rajkumar) and waiters serve with uncut nails filled with smudge..yuk

    But beer is cheap and thats Ok, for us 🙂

    This place was discovered by Fake Kannada speaking Bho-Bho-ti, patronised by the wide assed king of bangalore, Pat-Rick & made popular by rattu. Anit Pacob Jillpose lived in Pune but he dreamt of going to madan, and Khakre cracked up as we muttered him stories of Madan.

    Madan Rocks, no… Madan Mahaan hai 🙂

    In an area full of beautiful chiks and chikkis, this is the place, where Men can be Men, and not those spiked hairs, loose jeans, jockey showing lean kids, they can hold their drink with pride and drink and bask in the glory of the super dim lights which make you look, evil.

    I dont remember whether Mimpy visited it, but this is a place liked by 3 of us who came here tonight, me, Bhussu, Chipu. Bhussu loves drinking, and following it up with Hyderabadi Biryani, Drinking loves Chipu, and will always love him. As for me, I can walk downstairs to pick up Mysore Pak off Adayar anand bhavan 🙂

    But as Mimpy says, yeh ek Mahaan jagah hai, so ashtumaadi

    Kahani starts when Nippu comes to Bangalore… till then wait maadi

  • Another Kiddie incident

    Posted one long back on Kids. Today was time for another classic incident:)

    Words from a 6th Class Kiddo on the car backseat,

    “Virginity is a man’s gift to his wife”

    Couldn;t stop laughing for the next few hours, Gen Next/X/Y/Z/Whatever is really scary at times 🙂