I DONT WANNA SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR.....

See....Chi chi !!!

I mean what is wrong with you people. See I love peeking and seeing beautiful women but there's gotta be a limit to it.

Prelude:

Let me tell you that Delhi Metro rocks. I mean the plush interiors, a/c carriages, the people and the seats are all super.

But that doesnt mean early in the morning when we go for work or travel by the raods, that we have to see the green underwear that peeks through the wrinkled pair of jeans.

I mean great aSS ...but today we see enough of the underwear. The girls and guys keep on getting better at it.

There was a time, when the international underwear brand for men JOCKEY was premium stuff. Showing that off was pretty cool, but now there is so much jockey around people.

Literally the university grads, the school-children, even the odd 35+ couples on a leisurely saunter wear these "things" and the result is ....omigod...too much of your underwear and that too on your face....try concentrating on the newspaper when this sexy thing out of Venus bends over... i mean thre is s alimit to self-control...aint there a line ?

Listen Bryan Adams must have been in real love that " he wanted to be in somebody else's underwear"...to tell you frankly, wearing other peoples lingerie doest sound pretty nice but ok....for love shove sake...once ...who cares ? But what i am really pissed off about is the blatant show of pink, red, blue, white soft material that everyone is showing off.

CRACK-HEADS...NO BUTTS:
There are some who even know that their ass-crack is showing but they are the ones..who love to show it off..i mean...this is what i gather...seriously....they constantly adjust their dress, shirt, trousers to make their back-side visible to us. I dont wanna see everybody's underwear.....no i dont.....where is the fun then in looking at pornographic magazines....everything is avaliable right infront of your eyes...anybody whos been to the cafe coffe day shop or any mall knows what i am talking about......too much ass wiggling about there and.....those bodacious women really take our breath and everything away....i mean you got to see it if its infront of you...isn't it ?

Lets admit it....everybody loves apice of great ass. But the difference is elsewhere. Except Superman and some of my eccentric friends that i know of...nobody wants to wear their underwear over their pants...! I mean it would make no sense would it.

EXPERT SPEAK: Underwear is sometimes partly exposed above the tROUSERS when sitting, bending over, etc., or permanently. This depends on the style of trousers , the style of underwear, and the way they are worn. It may be accidental or deliberate. When men and women (deliberately or not) show their underwear in this way it is sometimes called a "VISIBLE PANTY-LINE", or VPL. When women wearing thong underwear expose themselves in this way, it is sometimes called a "WHALE-TAIL". But when men do it...they are called ass-crackers....... :)

SEE WHAT I WANT TO TELL ALL YOU PEOPLE...OUT THERE WAITING TO SHOW OFF THEIR UNDERWEAR, ASS, ASS-CRACK OR LIKEWISE...............................is that underwear is called intimate clothing.

Keep it intimate. Uncleji may like to see the 16-yr girl walking the road sometimes, auntyji may like the new kid on the block, even road-side romeos may like to whistle at women sometimes......but sorry they dont wanna see your back-side...however huge or small it might be.

Comprende....???

Thank you very much.

AFTER A REALLY LONG TIME....

Hi...

After a longtime, I write to you - my fans who have endured enough of my sole-scratching and tongue-splitting text that borders on profanity. (This is a classic example of writer's flow - this is what happens when journalists come and write - ... he he he)

Anyways before I am crucified (sorry BJP...ballified) - I am displeased to inform you people that I have joined a news organization. Its the Press Trust of India, and I have been given a chance to work there as a brainee journalist (oops...trainee journalist, I go overboard some times!)

Now I joined there on the 16th of the best month in the year - march...nah, April...no fool, it's august …the month I was born and the whole of humanity was destined to be ruled by one of the most unruly MEN of all time. But here's a list of what my colleagues have discovered of me... a goood guy, a person who has an opinion, a man with principles and lastly...an original. Now as fools as they are, let me tell you why they are correct.

I am great at doing chores...hence a good guy, a person with an opinion is because I always happen to share the opinion with women (that’s the only way…they get hooked you know), a man of principles read establishment-freak and lastly i am an original .... coz they have never come across my sources and things I go through... ha ha ha...!

Now coming back to my 21-day loooooong (a bit too long) orientation schedule in PTI. It was good, informative and plus we got paid for sitting through lectures. Imagine how much money we could have made if I was paid for all the lectures we have gone through after raging hormones took over at 15...! Nearly INR 2.5 lacs for all the lectures from high school to university. Pretty good stuff huh? T

he workplace here is busy.... One word for it. Everyone's so busy here yaar...I mean hello...People, you need to slow down a bit. As a news agency, the belief is you have no deadlines...does that mean every second, every minute is a deadline...yes in PTI it does.

There are nearly 200 workstations but the worst part of it is that we don’t seem to have enough... Imagine this cute lil thing as the place, I mean barring the soft toy that comes in the pic. Flat screen, flat keyboards, clean and flat tables... everything so flat. Excuse me but I am looking for a flat nowadays in New Delhi, so no offence meant but the word flat does come into my regular vocab pretty often nowadays.

Anyone whoever knows a man knows the fact what we on principle don’t have any attachment towards flat things...its not feminine enough. ..Ok no arguments..caLL me a MCP if you have to but hey...except TVs, flat is out ...seriously..ask the guy over there..ya the one who is sitting over there and trying to grab a sneak peek...flat doesn’t give me a high.

Now, as I sit in this workstation and furiously type on these mindless words that I am so used to typing...its nearly 1.55 am at night and its time for me to work. Yeah...sure...sleep is passe now for the time being. So its adios amigos, work calls in form of my shift-in-charge as he smiles at me from the cubicle beside...sleep, anger, frustration are etched on his eyes, forehead and hairs that are slowly begin to stand up...

So before he kills me, do me a favor people...save the life of your ruler.. Come on. As subjects you have to...plus you would be doing the world a favor too...as much as 50 people die in Iraq everyday...at least save me and my job...my 100s of future children will bless you...thanks!

See ya later, there is a gossip that I want to share with you all...and yes it’s spicy and sinful!

Bye

Kumar

Holi 2006…

Holi is a festival of colors which is played with enthusiasm and vigor all through out India. It is unique celebration where people smear each other with colors of every possible hue and enjoy pure unadulterated fun. 2006 was no exception. 13th of March was not a great day for me, except for one reason. As I was having a walk after finishing my dinner, I came across a revealing discussion between two kids of my locality.

Chintu (9 yrs): munna kal holi khelega kya?

Munna (10 yrs): holi ke din aur kya karun…lekin kab jaayenge?

Chintu: 12 ke baad…

Munna: aarey …tab tak to bahut der ho jaayega…

Chintu: sun…kuch der nahin hoga…sab bade beer aur bhang piyenge 10 baje se…asli holi to 12 ke baad hi shuru hoga…

Munna: haan …mere ghar mein bhi party hain…gulal se zyada…blacklabel aur antiquity bol ke kuch chiz ka bottle pada hua hain….papa ne bola yehin badon ka holi hain...(giggles)

Chintu: mere bare bhaiya bhi bol rahe the…rang wang kuch nahin hota…asli rang to glass mein milta hain…acchha kab bare hong ge? Tab hum bi asli Holi khelenge…..

As animated, it might seem…the definition of Holi, at least for the young kids was shocking. Gone were the days, when colors and only more colors made Holi. Today, colors shine only through the pristine glasses that are held by semi-conscious people…swaying to the music of “Rang Barse”.

Coming back to the little dialogue…I went back to my house and slept peacefully. It simply couldn’t be about all this…could it…the kids were blowing it out of proportion. So many people buy colors and have a traditional Holi. I told myself, that it is a fact people get carried away in bhang sherbets (sometimes). But the frolic and colors were simply inseparable.

But I was in for a rude shock. From about 9.30 swarms of guests clad in spotless white kurta and pajamas started coming to my neighbor’s house. Women too, with costly cell-phones flashing in their hands made way (after losing my mobile, I do get a bit emotional when I see cell-phones but that’s o.k.). The whole atmosphere was buzzing and I waited eagerly for that war cry “Holi hain”…to be followed by peals of laughter and splashes of water.

At around 10.00 am, the music was turned on full which sadly was the Havana tune by Kenny G. The organized and rehearsed talks could be heard. Glasses making the clinking sounds were soon drowned in the long saxophone. May be they would play Holi after a couple of rounds of beer, I thought. You know charging up for the big occasion…but as the golden minutes ticked on in my steel watch, one thing surely changed. The music. Kenny G was soon made way for Umi 10 and then the quintessential Holi favorites. As music got louder, not a splash of water could be heard. Everyone was maybe too busy discussing the latest stock market surge and Abhishek Bachchan. Isn’t there enough color already with Aishwarya coming onto the fore?

The little devils kept there promise and gleefully played Holi amongst themselves…in what remained a small demonstration of Holi as we know. Chintu and Munna and scores of other children started their Holi. Even there Chinese had made an impression. Such is the impact of globalization. Rahul showed off his Chinese pichkaadi to everybody - that looked more of a terminator gun than a pichkaadi. But it was fun…the Sun may have reached its full glory but that wouldn’t stop these children of a lesser Holi have their share of unbridled joy. As is the norm, soon girls and boys separated into vicious groups and then followed…the balloon fight. Chintu and Munna had not wasted any time in the morning…with over 100 water-bombs at their disposal, their prep time was fruitful. You should have looked at their faces which lit up with joy as they beat Pinki and ‘purply’ Ankita, black and blue. When the children went back home…they had played out yet another Holi. Their parents and the immediate elders also had played a Holi…without actually playing it. No water, no smears…it was an organized form of revelry that was being enacted on the big lawn of Sharmas. With booze replacing water, who needs the tumble and ruckus called Holi? The guests started leaving at around4 o clock in the afternoon.

While leaving, spotlessly clean Mrs.Dutta was saying to deathly white Mrs. Singh, “this is why I love coming to the Sharmas. Uuuuffff…Vivek still wants to go to his father’s house every Holi…what fun is it when relatives smear color on you…then the trouble of getting the color removed is such a pain in the a@#!” How times have changed…pleasure is now the foundation of life. Holi was once all about joy. It ain’t any more. Wait…but it is, only till Chintu and Munna don’t grow up soon. Once they become big like Satish and Amal, they too would be celebrating Holi locked in their houses over bhang and fogs of smoke filtering out of their beaks of fire.

VARANASI – THE UNTOLD STORY

When terrorists touched the holy city of Varanasi on 7th March 2006 with cries of the crimson jihad…we realized that Sankat Mochan Temple had faced the wrath of a movement building up for centuries. Considered, the holiest city in India – Varanasi is a tale of forgotten virtues and ‘unfond’ remembrances. Whenever we speak of India, especially today, the word SECULAR is cried out loud. The political leadership in our country must not take offence but if one ever goes to Varanasi, is there any sign of secularism? We might say that it is a religious place founded by Tulsidas to honor Lord Hanuman so it makes little sense to hope that practitioners of Islam would be present. That’s what is wrong in our country and with every nation that nests multiple religions.

Minorities are as consequential as the majority. Their dreams, aspirations and thoughts will be on similar lines as every one else. But the question remains whether it is right to label followers of a faith as minorities based on numbers only. The whole concept of treating an arc as a small unit is itself flawed. Religion was not established as a line of demarcation. But in fact, today religion is the division that demands respect because somebody is different. As an arrangement, we are compelled to think of Muslims as different. This is what many like the author of this article, are against. The issues that surround the Muslim community today are in no way different from what the community has faced earlier. The lack of real education is prominent. History bears testimony to the fact that Arabs have always been a race attacked and prodded upon by foreigners. So it was natural for such a community to emphasize on spiritual education and an austere preparation to combat unforeseen attacks. That explains to some extent the establishment of the small units of Islamic education known as madrasahs.

What terrorists groups today have succeeded is to accomplish the same vigor and spirit that was a requiem of the Arab fighters of the yore. Instead of dealing with the larger issues, they have considered themselves as a victimized race which is always under attack. Coastal Taipan – the calm serpent of Australia is timid by nature. It escapes conflicts. But when cornered, it releases enough venom to leave the victim succumbing within a few moments.
As long as cities continue to celebrate their faith and vociferously prevent ‘others’ from transgressing their holy territory – we can never rule out the possibilities of veritable bloodbaths that will be created to signify protests. Osama Bin Laden, however educated and classy might seem is an individual has positioned himself as the new age savior. He, who hides, delays the obvious but cannot stop it. Secularism is not an option. It comes from the very basic origins that respect individuals…as humans. The major religion in many countries is considered sacrosanct. But it is not always so. The very utterance of words like “they” are enough to bring in divides. Varanasi has been a testament to many instances when humans have been segregated because of their faith. No one is suggesting that the current attack on Varanasi is a delayed knee-jerk reaction. The possibility was always there. The blind Taipan will always strike if hands continue to probe. It is just not a snake; it is a living being trying to survive after it has been captured.

OH GOVERNMENT! …MY GOVERNMENT

“What is the government doing?”

“Prices are going up…systems are feeling the pressure.”

Let’s take a reality check today. Out of the countless complaints that we seem to innovate with each passing day, we seldom remember that the government is made from individuals like us - who have been developed in the very society that has fuelled countless preposterous activities.

Party politics, Election gimmicks, white lies…..all of these have a long history with each and every individual living today. We try and clear our names from many things that can hurt our future aspirations. Most Politicians unfortunately, are complete reflections of the society. A country with superstitions, a fast-changing whY generation, a economy with massive growth in selected sectors – these are the bits and pieces of the montage that form our country today.

The government (usually, the ruling party) has to balance decisions with sentiments. Their job is not easy. In spite of the undeliverable promises that many ministers claim they can deliver…it is usually the Finance Minister and the Prime Minister who form the benchmark.

Did you know that the government actually gives Rs.200 for every gas cylinder we purchase for our cooking?

When the intellectuals complain of the ‘anarchist’ decisions meant to alienate the common people…just wait…stop and think.

Who are these common people?

Are you a common man or woman? You would say YES…but do you imagine yourself to be called a ‘commoner’ for the rest of your life? My guess is NO.

The roots of our democracy are such that, we have always loved the idea of the strong intimidating the weak. We would mindlessly support the Goliath so much, that some days later we would be complaining against our very own Frankenstein. We do not believe that the weak can be strong. This is the reason our unfulfilled dreams seem to find a revelation whenever the might wins over plight. We rejoice although our hearts bleed with a deep crimson hue. We have become flexible.

Sadly, just as the subsidies that are doled out by the government are misdirected…the notion of the country’s ever-increasing poverty-stricken populace is a guided-missile with outdated technology. Ever fed a fish in the aquarium…the fish that you want to have the nibble seems to get the food last. The same is with our system and the lawless permissive society that we blame to have been created by the government. To us the government is like the cleaning-lady, we do what we do…government will clean up. We fail to realize that the government is a group of individuals who have big personal expectations and vendetta to fulfill. They are like us. Just as we attend a wedding reception, smile and leave after having the food…the ministers have their agendas too.

But who brought them to that position at the first place. We did. Ever consciously tried spitting above, imagining the skyline as the road? But yet we do the same every 5 years and remain ignorant of the reality that hits us so hard that, we scamper for our lives.

We are the ones responsible for our past, present and future. The government is a scare-crow…only this time the ravens know.

P.S – THE PURPOSE OF THE ARTICLE IS NOT TO HURT SENTIMENTS OR THE NATIONALISTIC FEELINGS, WHICH MAKES US PROUD COUNTRYMEN.

THIS IS A PROTEST AGAINST THE CASUAL ATTITUDE THAT WE SEEM TO HAVE PERFECTED. OUR COUNTRY DOES NOT DESERVE THIS.

....AFTER YOU LOSE YOUR MOBILE

Realization……..The first thing.

All the MMS clips, naughty sms’, anonymous missed calls – gone! Will I ever be normal again…will my life stay the same???

Picture This: Its Monday morning….blues, reds, yellows hit you as you run for your office. A good-looking hottie looks at you; through the corner of her eyes…you see the big burly thing coming…Wait It’s my bus. The conductor opens the door, but you cannot get in…a hand stretches itself out to grab you…ah my savior. Nope…it’s for the attractive lady behind you…you wish were a woman as much as she is. It’s O.K to be a feminist sometimes. The next thing you know, you are being pushed and shoveled into the place where all the action is. The men, women and the little children claim their inches of space… rightfully theirs. Suddenly…the soft thing touching you in your waist seems alien. You check it, IT’S GONE.

Welcome to the club. On an average 35 cell-phones get stolen every day in a big metropolis the whole world over. And Kolkata …my dears is no exception.

THE MOST FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

* How much was the cell worth…was it costly?
* Where were you while it was being stolen?
* Didn’t you feel anything when it was being stolen…any last touch?
* Where you sleeping?

Even as you battle with the excruciating pain that singes your heart…questions are being hurled at you. Office colleagues sympathetic to your cause, would play down the incident saying “Don’t worry…I lost mine too”. IT WASN’T LOST BUDDY …SOMEBODY STOLE IT.

FIRST THINGS FIRST

Call up your service provider and report the incident.
Next call up the cops or visit them to lodge an official complaint.
Wait for your parents/spouse/in-laws advising you on cell-phone care…@#$%!

THE BIG DECISION

Do you abandon the search for the cell-phone…or hope that the thief calls you up; to say “Hi…I came across this mobile, in a bus. It seems it was stolen by my brother who is a clept-cello-maniac.”

OR

Get hold of the unique cell number of your handset, which is a unique 13 or sometimes 15 digit number series. Give the number to your service-provider and jam the cell-phone for life. How Sweet is Revenge!

OR

WEIGH OPTIONS AND ASK YOUR COUSIN WHO IS GOOD IN MATHS TO COMPUTE THE CHANCES OF RETREIVING THE “THING” BACK.

Once things fall in place, call up and email contacts to prevent them from contacting you… (It’s a good way of calling up potential dates to tell them how you would be unavailable…they sigh and you say, its o.k. it’s only a mobile…they simply love you for that)

LAST THINGS LAST

Get a new SIM card, which is available as soon as you get the Cop Verification. The next thing you know, you would be looking at the latest cell-phones to hit the town as you go about the shops. That one looks perfect…oh too pricey…may be this one has a megapixel camera…Bluetooth!

P.S – You do get one simple email saying that how she always thought that you been a little bit careless about your things. That makes it worth the steal! Doesn’t it…

LOVE IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS......

Is There Any Rationality behind Romance

Love is the ultimate sensation we feel when we contemplate anything that makes life not only worth living, but incredibly exciting. An attractive body may thrill us, but it can hardly contribute any substance to our life. The significance of such an emotion like love is important and the power of that realization is awesome. That is why love is so exhilarating a sensation, it tells us that something is moving and exciting us in the profoundest way our brains can calculate. Pardon me if that sounds less like an explanation than romance. We can talk and talk on how our genetic machinery has prognosticated the brain thinking it to be the best baby-machine in the town; but love is not the dandiest topic for scientific explanation. It can only be justified by using some traditional scientific methods. Psychology, Biology, Chemistry, and Mathematics; all have a part to play. Friends...there is more than mere science and environment at work here: It is a nascent pattern that is unique yet, followed for centuries.

Let us enter the ever-mystifying world of science; to find out the reasons behind what we call is LOVE. According to many scientists and psychologists, love is an umbrella term used to describe a strong positive emotion or affection sometimes accompanied by a deep feeling of sexual desire. Since the human body acts dually as a receptor and effector, the organs coming into fore are of supreme importance. The Brain and the Heart deserve special mention. The lower parts of brain have centers for sight, sound, smell, touch and taste. The Heart on the other hand cannot be merely overlooked as a pumping organ. Not only does it circulate blood, but effectively keeps us alive. Our body is a huge assorted collection of chemicals that speed up our heart rate, give us sweaty palms, make our cheeks flush when we turn into lovesick fools. The chemicals responsible for love are all originally released in the brain and have a knock on effect across the whole body. The base substance is called Phenyl Ethylamine or PEA and is more commonly known as the love chemical. Many people crave chocolate when they have had a disappointment in their love life and it may be no coincidence that chocolate contains stimulant chemicals that are similar to PEA. PEA forms a mixture with differing amounts of other chemicals called Dopamine, Norapinephrine and Serotonin ( Neuro-transmitters or simply chemical messengers),to give us that huge Love buzz. Incidentally all the above have been shown to change blood-pressure in more ways than one, hence blushes!!! A combination of these chemicals even if taken in form of a capsule, has been shown not to generate any amorous feeling whatsoever. This shows that there is something else which produces the feeling of love when we meet our loved one.

Is it something in our eyes, as a poet said " Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder." Apologetically, Love is not only in the eyes of the beholder but also in the nose. Undoubtedly eyes form the image but visually-impaired people do fall in love. What then? Every person has his or her own completely unique and individual odor, or odor print that is released from our skin. These tiny chemical particles are released from sweat glands and travel as pheromones, airborne chemicals, across to other people's noses where they are inhaled. Receptors in the nose are stimulated and send messages to the brain which we subconsciously decode as vital information about the person's genetics and whether he/she would make a suitable mate, or not.

It may occur to you that love finds a mention in our lives after a certain age; Hormones are the culprits. They are the ones, who transform boys into men and girls into women. For, hidden in them lie the basis of our adult lives. They excite, they stimulate, they dampen, and they penetrate into the untouched corners of our bodies and give a new meaning to life as a whole.

(THIS ARTICLE WAS WRITTEN 2 YEARS AGO AND IS JUST AN EXAMPLE)

THE AUTHOR WILL TRY AND POST MORE ARTICLES, SO THAT TRUTH CAN BE HEARD AND IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT HURTS A BIT.

SO LONG......

HAPPY BLOGGING AND READING.......

DO FEEL FREE TO CRITICIZE MY ARTICLE...... I CAN ONLY LEARN FROM MISTAKES.