Friday, 3 April 2009

#$%@#$%@^% ...bloody Hell

Following story, I dedicate to that bloody owner of that bloody restaurant for an incident that still boils on my bloody nerves
and FYI, my favorite color is …….. Red.

14th Feb, 2006
I am in my favorite restaurant raking through the menu and after long admiration I order shahi paneer, naan & Pepsi. 30 minutes later I swig in the last scoop from my plate and while taking a pull from my drink, I call for the Bill.
Before long, waiter returns to my table, his hands clamping on to a yellow bill. As he was zooming in my hands were inching towards my pocket. Only when I shoved my hands into my pocket, I realized that my wallet has betrayed me once again.
Left with no better option, I dragged my legs to the counter and requested the restaurant owner to take money on my next visit.
The jatt owner replied, “ Naa re bhai, lunger thode hi chal reya hai ”. But I don’t have my wallet with me dumbass. Just take it next time. “arey bhaiya agli baar de dunga na pakke se”
“arey taine samaj naa aayen, udhaar ni chalta yahan..” WTF mane, After pulling all strings, I realized there is no point in milking out this bull as he is not going to yield. One last try, “But sir, I had been coming to your restaurant for past 3 years..”
This time he says nothing, just ignores me and keeps toying on with a lady customer.
I wanted to simply leave but I couldn’t without his consent. I didn’t want to beg any futher to this moron and so I called my friend to come for my rescue. That owner and I exchanged some crabby looks and the jatt said, “aankhe ke dikha rya hai..”
I assured him that my friend will be here shortly. Before long my friend arrived, I paid the bill in exact amounts and then staring into the owner’s eyes I tossed over a 1 Rs coin to him, and said: “ye le teri tip”
Exasperated by the incident, I rushed out of the restaurant passing sharp & steamy looks at the owner.
And then I returned with 4 more friends and beat the shit out of that owner. Nnaah.. I never stepped back in that bloody restaurant.


Thursday, 11 December 2008


Grab a bottle over replete with thousands of beads, undo the lid and spill all the beads on the floor. Later you got to pick each of those beads & put them all back into the damn bottle. Easy Job!

8 months back I stripped open my suitcase, pulled out a shirt & a trouser for the first day. Then last night I took a snapshot of my room; on my bed were layers of T-shirts I had been sleeping over for God knows how long time, my summer shorts & trousers below bed with spiders & insects nested upon them, and rest of my apparels were relegated to work for the carpet. Now with couple of more evenings left before I return home after my 8 months of hibernation, I got to nicely pack all this stuff into my suitcase. Easy job, only if I had an army of 100 guys ready to go kamikaze with my clothes and do this job for me.

Even the trash that goes into the garbage bin earns more respect than my clothes, which in the end will be shoved and crammed into my suitcase. Huhh !! wish I had a girlfriend to take care of me and my packing…


Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Regret of my Life

With 24 years of my life now been sailed past, I take a glimpse back into the traversed aisle behind me and I turn back with one regret. I had never been a good writer, in fact saying more accurately, taking the thought to its decimal points; I had been an awful writer all my life.
Owing to my company for keeping me without work & providing me with no internet, I sit down in the most laid-back position and evaluate my own mind. Am I a terrible thinker? Am I wrong to reckon that I am capable of diving into the deepest oceans of thoughts & come out to surface with treasured pieces of writing?
I now have this hunch that more you write, better you think, better you articulate your speeches & more delightful it gets for others to hear you. And someone like me who has never even cared to write a blog indeed has never challenged his thought process, his writing skills.
By writing, I am weaving my thoughts with English words & phrases to produce a shitty piece of art (in my case). How I feel is every writer when puts down his thoughts onto paper, jelling it up with delightful English vocab. & phrases, in this effort he churns up something that is no less of an art than Leonardo’s Mona Lisa. The perfect tread of thoughts & good English words is all it takes and that’s all I miss. :-(
But, no worries, few more steps & I would learn to skate in this world of writing.
Even if I don’t and stay crippled as I had been for past 24 years, I would still write, I would still try.