Maverick Businessman

The year was 2007 and month January. 'You have to watch this movie' she said. The tone was joyous a bit nervous though. My wife had hurriedly come out midway from a movie and made this call. 'I am buying the tickets for the next show, I want to watch it again with you'. 'I'm sending Chuku and Kabu back with their Nani, bye the movie has started' the phone went silent.

The joy of relating someone from reel life to real life is unique. Not that I'm some hero or maverick or stud (I wish I was) but it sure felt nice when she made that comparison. In her mind the similarities between the hero and me were strikingly similar, both budding businessman with adoring and gorgeous wife. We as a couple had seen lots of ups and down together. Finally life was looking up. Our madness for each other had no bounds, it was only about talking, food, going out and sex. Money had been a constant problem, but for last couple of years things had been good in fact too good.

January 2012. 'Mummy I don't want to go back to India, I want to stay here' both Kabir and Radhika said in unison. Their voices barely audible amidst streams of tears rolling down their cheeks. India meant staying with Papa going to school, friends. It also meant lonely evenings, reproach full looks of aunts and uncles, cold beds, silence and a constant look towards the calender announcing the next visit dates of their friendly angel mommy.

One realizes one's shortcomings only when the one's who covered them go missing. I can go on with the blame game probably prove myself as wronged but realization my friends is a bitch. This bitch by the way barks and bites with equal gusto. Penning thoughts not for the fondness of them but to keep this gnawing bitch at bay becomes the only option.

Falling from that pedestal, that grace, where her life revolved around me to this uncaring, scarily lonely existence is this maverick businessman's earning. I still smile remembering she compared me to a hero and the very next moment these disloyal tears tell me what I lost. When my kids' cries of 'Mummy' haunt me at night, well those hopeless moments of despair are my earnings.

Maverick businessman!

Blind Following

          How far do you tow a line, the one that doesn't exist. Strictly speaking its a mirage personally speaking its Hope, and medically its neurotic. Perspective they say, I say convenience. Convenience to communicate as per requirement. In throes of life we come across all types, from fat to fidgety. Some we impress others we repress. The imaginary lines are towed accordingly. I bet my fat wallet (that makes my ass) on it.
         During early nineties Marina beach use to have these women for a quick head. Evenings were when they would appear from nowhere for everywhere. A dear friend wanted to make the most of his Rs 20. So every time he was about to eject (sounds better, more like a fighter pilot) he would look at the waves. Eventually Rs. 20 lasted close to forty five minutes. The ingenuity of towing that imaginary line!
        Nobody knows the amount of black money Indians have in Swiss accounts, yet a horny yoga guru takes all of India for a free porn show. I mean this literally not in symbolic kind of way. How else do you explain soft moans of Mr. Sibal for first three days ending with the shrieking rape cries of this baba on the fourth. India being the bystander and media being the perfect pimp. The ingenuity of towing that imaginary line!
       Lets make love, lets make babies. For Ganeshji 's sake (why only Christ) they mean the same. The catch line is only for a catch. I mean seriously when I was at it, babies was the last thing on my mind. Let the women don't fool you even they know. Perhaps they play along only to fill you with guilt later on. The ingenuity of towing that imaginary line!
       Elders take the cake in any case. Plenty of them make the poor hapless kids and their spouses toil day in and day out. Looking after the elders, for good karma's and for their much awaited WILL. Happened to be in one of the sessions where my Masi (Aunt) was berating her young son and poor hapless sexy wife. 'All of this is yours once I go'. Just couldn't help saying it, 'You anyway cant take it with you Masi'. That was the last I got a cup of tea there. The ingenuity of towing that imaginary line!
       Honestly speaking, for me writing is not a form of self expression nor am I swayed by the bounties of a best seller. My hero is Salman Rushdie. For Ganeshji sake are you blind or what, have you seen Padma Lakshmi. If that fat bald can have wonders of a squeeze, I certainly am looking for mine. Once again, the ingenuity of towing that imaginary line!

Kamasutra Revisited

Peeing in pants, passing out on a date, farting in public etc etc, been there done that! Well never an iota of shame I relate to these past trophies of mine. Kudos that makes me thick skinned, then what the fuck was I thinking writing my last post 'Blurred'. Seriously moping like its nobodies business, I mean that was one piece of morbid and graphic detailing. Why? Maybe I expected the heavens to have mercy and send me truckloads of happiness in form of 'Naked dancing women, begging me to bone them'. Seriously why do we want to show our pain? As if pathos generated equals healing! One in a million chance that somebody somewhere liked it and wants to mother me, what if that somebody wants to father me. That's a new dimension of problems created for me and my mummy!
Anyway the sunshine is back and I start to wail for wifey again. Boohoo where are youuuu! Guys seriously seeing her work actually makes my lazy bones shudder (shake less you bones, ye might crumble). She gives new meaning to strength and drive. Was wondering 'is it the corporate effect'? Dressing right, jazzy gizmo, snappy abbreviations, schedules, deadlines, packed FB friends list etc. The representatives of new insurgent Indians! The weekend Daddies and Mummies! I mean the whole packaging is irresistible. The whole tamasha has really brought the oldies back in demand. No more nuclear families. Now having Dada/ dadi/ Nana/ Nani is mandatory. How on earth will the extension of lusts be taken care of? (Stop imagining perverts) I meant the kids. Mummy / Papa working and their 'suhaag raat/din' by products need to be taken care of. Thank God, old age (mine) is secured. By the way these oldies are pretty demanding now, no  more take me for granted attitude. They know their worth and demand equal pound of flesh. The package deal is - full time maid, evening strolls, weekly movies, strutting at malls and to n fro flight tickets. Thank you Capt Gopinath. You gave us the habit and now Mr Goyal and Mr Mallya are fleecing us. That reminds me, till I'm at it let me call MOM (in law) and enquire about her (in) well being!
Trip trip and trip some more, till you stumble and break some bone. That my dear is the mantra for experience, and believe me wisdom actually is 'the amount of money and time spent with shrink'. Can't blame anyone for this. Life is tough, as if it has googled - 'How to screw these mortals?' and the result show MORE THAN 10000 pages of Illustrations! Creaters of Kamasutra, NOW PAY FOR IT!

Blurred

Is it stablon time? Cold, dark and lonely days. The whole world is cramping around you, the vise gets stronger, the will to fight almost redundant. People lie when they say 'I want you to be happy'. Its just a better way of saying 'dude mind you own stuff and stop bothering me'. In fact the well meaning ones would probably say 'I will make you happy'. Somebody please stop these cricket ts.Too many punctuations added with quotes and a strong urge to say 'Fuck you world', well I'm sure its stablon time.
Its scary for people who want to see intent opposed to action. Its the die hard romantic inside, too scared to live in real world. Facts when placed right can question God. Then how moronic is it to depend on people for happiness or barely lack of sadness. I'm bloody sure its stablon time. Has any one ever noticed? The blaring silence in an empty home (not house). Its like thousand cricket ts screaming together nonstop as a background chorus. Try shutting your ears with your palms and the decibels increase. Time to see the doctor. He says 'people have made their choices, time to wake up and see'. Now who can explain to him, cant just self amputate. Hurt, unhappiness etc are signs of a working mind. It sees the circumstances as not conducive, hence the feel. Then why is this moron prescribing stablon. Is it to numb me and my senses, debilitating my rationale and saving me from gloom? If true then he is really not helping my brain do its normal function. Self inflicted wounds hurt more. The thought of your stupidity as a party adds to the misery. It is stablon time.
To say the path is clear is an understatement. Forging new tie ups at the altar of older ones is the only hope of salvation, but how to explain this to the tiny ones. Their world revolves around us. Somebody please stop these cricket ts. The cacophony of the the world outside with blaring sounds seems more peaceful. How long and how far can I chase? Umpteen cups of coffee, with eyes watching others make merry is not really sights of delight! Better get my little ones, their shrieks and joyous banter will heal my soul. Beyond a certain limit right or wrong ceases to be of consequence, what remains is stark naked reality. Where the fuck is Stablon?

On the love trail

Show me the motion, emotion, ration...tra ..la.la..laa! Well the the harbinger brought me tickets and off I went into the arms of wifey Takatao (how else can you explain all the cribbing). Off for some motion some commotion some notion and some more motion...forget it, that's the limit for my rhyming words. Behold you jealous world, lovers finally united. Liked it wifey?Listen world, my wife says I write good and the Booker guys will be knocking soon, so now onwards 'I write what she likes'. What? Seriously if I knew what she likes, she'd be here with me not in Qatar. So up goes my...thinking cap. (perverts what where you expecting)

The fancy dress never ends. Create rs of souk wanted it to be the showcase of Arab world (abject penury days). Coffee, sheesha, cologne and wifey, well the ambiance was almost picture perfect. New Year ushered in without alcohol (heard they whip you for being drunk) well that was for the almost bit! How I desperately wanted to believe that we in India are better off then these strict Muslim Arab nations. Some how its the western (blame them for whatever is wrong) propaganda machine working overtime convincing the world of fanaticism and Islam. Well Yankee friends, I'm not fallin' for that trap. I would rather define the Arab world as courteous, disciplined, patriotic and above all Humane. Yes the whipping bit does leave sore marks and thoughts. Wow! I'm thinking. Its the release of blood flow to the brain finally. Thank you wifey! By the way making wifey pay for everything...well that's Priceless!

Forgot to mention, Pradhanji wished me new year greetings. Bang at 12 at night, he really is looking forward to the Bengali association. He sure will make his margins. Hope these guys do turn up on 9th in huge numbers or else my initiation in politics will nose dive. Ouch! That would hurt (imagine nose hitting the floor). OK, accepted that was a poor one, but then how else can you explain writing in this cold. You certainly can't question my intellect. Cold reminds me, am I the only one who really thinks that the toilet seat should be heated and the cleaning nozzle (we don't use mugs anymore) should spew hot water. To top it all how about some mechanism to relieve oneself without really undressing. Believe me these innovations would and should get Nobel, plus heartfelt blessings from me! Wow that brings me to my new year resolution - "Undress for the right reason and dress up/down for upright one"

The dream germinates!

To cut a long story short (nah, if I cut it short what will I write) my idle mind is agog with ideas of germination! Strange just few days of celibacy can make even words like germination turn you on. 'Wifey come hold my hand, and take me to wonderland'. With song on my lips and dreams in my heart - crap didn't rhyme- How do writers do this? Guess when your mind is solely thinking of germination, it really functions as an independent judicial system. All suomoto actions. Maybe its the flow of blood, all to accumulate at the centre (of universe). Is it making any sense at all? No. Sure sign 'I'm on Booker trail'. Do they have a category for - germinating,masturbating, gyrating, ...ding....ding...ding and some more ding ding writing debut?

Ah! By the way my Bengali friends are turning around, have fixed up a meeting cumming Sunday at 3 pm. Will debut as a speaker as well. Hopefully the association of marginalized will be formed soon. Schools and Hospitals (especially private ones) beware, here comes the sleepy, horny, lazy to the bones crusader. Wonder why I didn't mention 'Police'? I'm sure they have no role in punishing these 'marginalized for margins' friend of mine. Can't really blame them poor goons oops sorry, poor policewalas are any which way the most marginalized of all. The successive abortions of germinating seeds owing their bloodlines to our Netas has taken a huge toll on these poor little bobbies. See how cleverly I'm mixing germinating with one and all! Kudos to my organs, specifically my topmost empty one!

Its deliberation over action for me. The biting cold, the piping tea and absence of wife what better justifies non action! No wonder its happening all across - the parliament, CBI enquiry on so many scams, the crying onions...that reminds me, have we checked the onion trucks coming from Pakistan. Was wondering can metal detectors or sniffing dogs detect 'Goodwill'

Lets see where it leads!

Kind of difficult playing a good husband, wifey dear in Qatar and its getting tiresome just looking after the house, kids, dog,work, face book, twitter, blogging (my daily dose of being creative). Told her last night get me there "Bugger earn your bread" was a quick and sharp reply. Wondering wasn't I better off just mast..bating! Anyway hoping she'll see my hard work and call me (would love to cook for (and) her). So as they say..lets see where it leads!
That reminds me went to the local pradhanji after dropping off the second kid at school (I have two, hence four trips in a day). Was wondering if we could get all the Bengali's working as menial helps to come together and form an association. Pradhanji was quick to come up with all support possible. Guess it would be easier to exploit them if all of them unite (he he he). I'll ensure these fancy guys with their fancy jobs suffer. All because of this new adventure of mine. Special thought for all society presidents and secretaries, their high asses need spanking! These high asses come out with regal notices of terminating passes and fixing rates of baba adam days. See wifey staying alone at home and not working has made me so jealous of all the ones with jobs and obedient wives. Again...lets see where it leads!
Need to keep this one short, with all the paparazzi really cant afford to over expose my skills. So readers won't give you multi orgasms today just four or five is enough!