Only in India

For every smart person in this country, a hundred morons are born to level the equation back to zero.
Consider this hypothetical situation. A guy takes his 10 year old son to a multiplex. But mistakenly, they enter the wrong theatre where the movie has already started. Soon, a couple of adult scenes come up on the screen. Now after the usual reaction of shock and awe, much publicized by Bush in Iraq, the father has the following options:

a) Sit through the movie as if nothing has happened.
b) Walk out of the movie with his son, and ignore this incident.
c) Sue the multiplex for letting a kid enter an auditorium that is screening R-rated movies.
d) File a case with the authorities, asking for the immediate termination of the multiplex as it is showing content that goes against the 'great' Indian heritage.

Now a bold father would go for (a) (I wish my dad was this cool), and a sensible one would go for (b). A slightly firebrand father would accept (c). And remember the moron I talked about earlier? Yes, idiots of those kind would go for (d). I hope that you would agree that anyone who opts for (d) is a Darwin-award qualifier for surviving evolution inspite of nowhere being the smartest.

Now let us replace the hypothetical situation with a real one. Replace 'multiplex' by Orkut, 'movies' by Orkut communities, 'adult content' by an obscure Anti-Shivaji community, and the moronic father figure by this wonder of evolution called 'Subodh Balsaraf'. Yes, he discovered the said community, and has filed a PIL in the high-court, seeking immediate banning of Orkut in India. More details here.

In the not-too-distant past, the Indian government matched such an act with a flawlessly stupid performance of their own --- blocking blogspot for a few days. So this has me worried, because the fate of my 12554 'frenship' requests now hangs in a delicate balance.

I will not go into the details of the dozens of fallacies in Mr. Balsaraf's case. They are too many and too obvious --- freedom of expression, obscure community, low Orkut penetration, American website, state-sponsored censorship and so on.

Just makes me think that is Shivaji's stature so fragile that nincompoops like Mr. Balsaraf have to constantly defend it using such means? Sadly, it seems so.

Country anxiously awaits SRK's next hamming performance

Bombay (28th Aug): Reports indicate that Shahrukh has become the topmost obsession with the country as of today. Riots broke out in Bombay and Bangalore as his fans went on a looting spree after watching SRK's extraordinarily mediocre performance in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna (KANK). This kind of mob behaviour has only a few precedents, such as the sacking of Manchester after Man United won the English Premier League and the plunder of Buenos Aires after the Argentines lifted the World Cup in 1986. Everywhere, SRK's fans displayed scenes of ecstasy and total satisfaction, with a sexual equivalent of a hundred orgasms per fan. Adultery on screen was never sweeter, it seems.

In the movie KANK, Shahrukh plays the role of a failed footballer with the characterstic ease that has now become a part of his persona. Eating ham and cheese for breakfast all these years has finally paid off, as he juggernauts his way into the movie, doing complete justice to a cheesy role with his hamming mega-performance. For the lazy (and intelligent) readers who haven't seen the movie, here are some gory details.
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As soon as the movie starts, we are treated to a football match in which His Highness King Khan is a striker. Taking a kick, he displays his ever familiar feminine grace, as his eyes are captured by the camera and shown on the stadium screen. Sigh! if such an amount of optical zoom was available in the Pakistan-England test match, the world wouldn't be tearing its Hair apart right now. Ok ok, I am done with the cheap puns for now. But, as usual, I digress.

A few minutes later, much to the delight of Shahrukh-haters, he meets with an accident and is forced to retire. Rumors say that he was replaced by a kid called Wayne Rooney. Anyway, so he is forced to live at home, watch TV all day, drink beer, make sarcastic remarks and get some action with Preity Zinta at night. So far, everything is going to his plan you would say. He is living the great Indian male dream. But SRK thinks otherwise.

For beneath the thin veneer of cynicism, lies a void. No, not the void in his brain, but a void in his heart. Which no amount of Budweiser and free marital sex with the hottest dame in Bollywood can fill. So he goes ahead and starts flirting with poor Rani a.k.a. Maya. Now Rani, with her brusque masculine voice, has no chance against the coquettish charms of Shahrukh, so she promptly falls for him before the audience can say "What the ...!".

For a while, both the newfound lovers compete in the game of "Who is the silliest?", as exemplified in the furniture-shop fake-sex scene, plagiarized (or "inspired") from the famous diner scene in When Harry met Sally. However, things start getting serious soon. No, not the "main tumhare bacche ki maa banne waali hoon" type, but that their adulterous relationship is soon exposed. The exposure happens when Amitabh (who plays the awe-inspiring character of 'Sexy Sam') discovers the two canoodling in front of Grand Central.

So now, poor SRK, abandoned by the hot-hot Preity, and separated from Rani, is very distraught. This was definitely not something in his grand plan of free Sex in the City! Totally devastated by the lack of female attention, he makes the daring move to Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. But after enjoying brotherly love for three wholesome years, he realizes that the void is still there.

What happens after those three years? Did SRK take a strapping African American dude as his lover? Did he finally come out of the closet? I am afraid I am gonna leave you hanging here. Go watch the movie and enjoy your two hundred minutes of masochism!
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Back to the real world now. As of today, there is only one question that the common man has. Will SRK be able to essay the role of The Don in the movie with the same name? Or will his dimples betray his boyish charm? That, my friend, only time will tell. Time and SRK.

Blogger disappointed with the performance of his blog

In an exclusive interview, area blogger Rahul Gupta (juvenile nickname: Asterix) told us that he isn't satisfied with the progress of his blog on any level. In this newspiece, we cover an extensive 'analysis' of the past, present and future (if any) of his blog.

The blog was started almost an year back on 30th July under immense peer pressure and the fear of non-conformity. Midway, the blog's name was changed from the zero-information phrase of "Rahul's blog" to an equally useless "A blog about nothing" after watching an episode of Seinfeld, which is called "The show about nothing".

While the blogger can take solace in the fact that he hasn't blogged about what he had for breakfast yesterday (yet) or what colour is his toothpaste, he hasn't exactly become an epitome of blogdom either in the past year. His forte lies in covering jaw-droppingly awe-inspiring news like the Rakhi-Mika fiasco and the Prince debacle or making self-indulgent posts on the lack of tags or girl friends.

With tasteless subjects like these, its no wonder that he cannot cross the physical barrier of 21 comments on any post of his. We talked to him about what makes him go on and on, punishing his readers every week or so.

We: So is writing about such topics the only reason you blog?
Asterix: Err...no. There was an ulterior motive.
We: May we dare to enquire what that was?
Asterix: Well I thought that some female readers would visit the blog and get impressed by my awesome writing skills and would sleep with me.
We: Hmm...your 'awesome writing skills' you say.
Asterix: Well I did get 90 out of 100 in English in Class 7th-A and I was voted the person most likely to memorize all the entries under Q in the dictionary.
We: Ooookay! Well we looked at the profiles of the people who comment on your blog and there indeed are a few single female readers. How that happened is beyond our comprehension but any leads from there?
Asterix: Well they are single, and they are looking. But I guess they aren't looking in my direction. What a sad irony! I feel so used!!

Apart from such pathetic attempts at losing bachelorhood, the blogger also faces allegations of plagiarism. His writing style (if you would call it that) reeks of 'inspiration' from Onion. With such dark clouds, his blogging future looks bleak indeed. On asking about any possible policy changes in his blog or any modifications, he chuckled and replied, "Well lets see how long I can hold fort. And there always are the breakfast/toothpaste posts!"

It would be interesting to see if the blogger runs out ot topics before he runs out of readers. And that if his blog-code turns into a reality. Until then, lets pray that he doesn't write about the Owl-in-the-temple story.

A hole in one

How does one earn quick money? If you are a dumb moron like me, chances are that you would put in nine hours every day at the office. And get a few measly lakhs per year as the compensation.

Or if you are really smart, you would fall into a 50ft deep hole. Thats what a five year old chap named Prince did in Haryana, although he didn't have money on his mind at that time. Now Prince (not to be confused with the arrogant "all-rounder" from Kolkata) was just playing around when he fell into a hole that had been dug for a handpump. Immediately, fecal matter hit the fan and the whole village surrounded the magic hole that had swallowed the child. Fortunately, Haryana's ground water table is as bad as Delhi's, so the kid was safe and dry.

Soon, the press reached the village, with the army and the honorable CM of Haryana in tow. People prayed all over the country for Prince's survival and his story was on all the news networks for 40 consecutive hours. Even our dear old Moneymohan Singhji ordered that the kid be speedily rescued. Such a reaction was missing when 200 people were killed in Bombay a few days back, but we will let such trifling details pass.

Prince, on the other hand, was heavily paying for this sudden fame. Along with food and water, a camera had been lowered into the hole to continuously monitor him. Now I like to think about all the possibilities of a particular scenario, so I couldn't help thinking how on earth would he answer the calls of nature in the invaded privacy of his new habitat.

Anyhoo, to poop or not to poop wasn't the question. Rather it was a question of waiting for the army to dig up a tunnel. That happened after around 45 hours and a scared Prince emerged from his subterranean abode. The quick money thingie happened soon after that. Star TV offered a sum of five lakhs to him, Zee News promised two and another channel announced that it would sponsor Prince's studies.

Well I am sure I can fit into a hole. Not one dug for a handpump but surely one made out for a tubewell. And I promise to look shit scared after my 'ordeal'. And some people have claimed that my mental age is five too. And I need someone to sponsor my PhD so that I can study fulltime. Seen any nice deep holes lately? One with an attached toilet and a DSL connection would be preferred.

Zen helps me strike back. With a vengeance.

A 14 hr flight makes you ponder about stuff. Hardens you and builds your character. They try to break you and snatch your very soul but you resist and fight back. You learn and zen it out.

The flight in question is the long-haul Continental flight from Newark to Delhi which included yours truly as a passenger. The completely full flight also included hordes of tiny tots, ranging from zero to twelve years old in age. And in order to make every passenger's life miserable, Continental had sprinkled the little devils uniformly across the economy section.

Now I usually am not a big fan of kids and normally wish that they should STFU, and this time was no exception. With frequencies ranging from ultrasonic, which would make a dog cry out loud, to the cracked voices of the adolescents we had them all in the flight.

The first half an hour is the easiest because you are optimistic that would indeed STFU and go to sleep or something. The next few are those of intense agony and anger as you wish that their parents had used protection while fornicating. And then you enter the state of Zen when nothing can touch you. More like when Neo dies in the Matrix and becomes the super overlord of the domain. In the Zen state, you have absolute control of your body and mind and you become one with the universe.

" 'ssup dawg? You live in India or what!", asked an ABCD kid with a horrible accent and an even more horrible vocabulary.

Now a lesser man would have recoiled at the question, slapped him a couple times and not answered but I had attained Zen after three hours of torture that violates all rules of the Geneva convention. So I was unfazed.

"Na man, I just chill them niggers out back in the hood with my homies.", said I with my best possible Afro-American accent, before making a "peace" symbol with my index finger and my pinkie. He fell for it and assumed that I was indeed from Harlem and hence, a real badass. I didn't hear from him throughout the remainder of the flight. I felt like Neo did after he killed Agent Smith in the Matrix. This took care of the eastern defence.

The real power of Zen comes from the fact that it helps you do stuff without you having to lift a finger. Some kinda weird psychokinetic stuff. Real scary shit if you ask me.

There was this kid playing in the aisle with two other kids, generally screaming, talking loudly and making life generally miserable for his neighbours including me. So I decided to take the matters in my own hands, but not literally. Remember Zen! It so happened that he was in the middle of one of his generic screams that we happened to lock our eyes. One cold lifeless stare from me, devoid of any emotion and empathy, threatening to suck the very breath out of his lungs was enough to make him STFU. For the rest of the flight, he became deathly quiet whenever he used to pass me. The western front was won without lifting a finger.

But the real challenge remained in the north. Where there was an infant crying incessantly for hours altogether. A pre-Zen Rahul would have committed suicide, or worse, started watching the in-flight entertainment system. Staring coldly or rapping at the infant won't have helped. However Zen came to my rescue again, but before that, a simple mathematical fact begs to be explained.

In a 14 hr flight with three meals and many drinks, there is no way that you won't go. To the restroom. Even Zen won't help you there. Its a cold mathematical fact and you cannot beat maths.

Back to the crying monster. So I had succumbed to my biological need to go to the restroom and had gotten up from my seat. Generally surveying the neighbourhood, I zeroed in on the family in the next row - the one with my crying arch enemy. Naively trying out the stare at the kid won't help. So I turned 30 degrees and stared at the mother. Not one of those lecherous stares that we Delhites are world-famous for, but one of those "I will wipe out your family if you dont pay heed to my order" stare.

The young mother was no match for me. She had no chance. Kinda like when Voldemort vaporized Harry Potter's mother except that I am way better looking than Voldemort. Really.

With that, the area was secure. Peace reigned all around me. As a sign from the Gods, food began to be served. Wherever I looked, grateful eyes of my co-passengers greeted me. Some of them had tears of happiness. Maybe it was because of my deeds or the food really sucked. But anyway, no amount of Zen was enough to make me ignore that. I nodded in return and went into a dreamless sleep.

The case of the stolen kiss

In American Beauty, the character of Ricky Fitts had said - "Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in". But it took me almost six years to realize the meaning behind this dialogue. Well not so much about the beauty as about the "heart caving in" part.

A few days back I was hanging out at my home with a friend and generally flipping through channels when I stopped at IndiaTV's announcement of its latest exposé. The anchor, visibly excited to the extent of hyperventilating, shouted about IndiaTV's hottest news of the hour. And yes, you guessed it right, it was about the issue that had rocked the entire nation that day - Mika kissing Rakhi Sawant in front of the cameras.

Now, maybe it was the carpal-tunnel in my hands from playing so much video games that I couldn't change the channel, or maybe it was the beer that enhanced my judgement abilities, but I knew that I had struck gold.

Although I was shocked at knowing that this was THE "breaking news" of the hour, but I like low grade gossip as much as the next person, so I was hooked. To our joy and amusement, that breaking news was discussed at length for around thirty minutes and less important things like the FIFA World Cup had to wait. I will refrain from saying anything about this, but probably Rakhi Sawant's beauty was too much to handle for a simple Punjabi boy like Mika, so his heart probably caved in. Rather than missing the kiss, he decided to kiss the Miss. Little did he know that one smooch (and that too lousily done) would leave such a bad taste in the mouth, cheap pun intended. One small smooch for Mika but one giant lawsuit in his, uhh, you know where. Word on the street is that he has gone underground to evade any arrest (much on the footsteps of his elder bro Daler Mehendi). I can almost imagine the conversation between Mika and his fellow subterranean dwellers:

Mika: Paaji, whom are you hiding from?
Javed: I committed a triple murder a week back. The police of two states are trying to hunt me down. Why are you hiding?
Mika: O koi nahin, main Rakhi Sawant nu ek chummi de ditti. (Oh nothing! I kissed Rakhi Sawant)
Javed: Really!!! Oye Shukat, Arun, sab suno, this man kissed Rakhi Sawant. Wow man! you are like our hero and everything!!

When the chips are down, its high-quality news and low-grade actions like these that help cheer me up. That prod me to see that indeed, there is so much beauty in this world. Although I had found the world to be pretty, but not heart-caving beautiful yet. But little did I know that I was an impatient fool. That the last half-hour was only a build-up to bigger and better things to come. Much like "Fellowship of the Ring" was a trailer for "Return of the King", but I digress.

So after extensive coverage of the unholy smooch, IndiaTV tried to play mediator between the warring parties. The 29" screen of my TV was split in three parts - occupied by Rakhi, news anchor and Mika respectively. For those who play video games, this felt like Mortal Kombat except that in the game, the only thing the mediator says is "Round One, FIGHT!"

After much mud-slinging, colorful usage of vocabulary by either parties, and an exemplary display of impromptu thinking (mostly by Mika), the anchor realized that he is supposed to mediate and not laugh his ass off. So when Mika said that he has "full support from his true fans, who believe him", Rakhi was asked the same question in the most hilarious way:

Anchor (spoken with a straight face): "Rakhi, aapke bhi kaafi fans hain. Jo aapke item songs pasand karte hain, jo aapka.....(long pause).....kaam pasand karte hain, woh bhi to aapke saath honge?"

Needless to say, my day was made. This outstanding show of journalism had egged the total amount of beauty to beyond what my heart could handle. The cave-in was complete.

Asterix

City admits it doesn't give a TRA about blogger's absence

BOMBAY, May 17th 2006. After much dilly-dallying, the city of Bombay today admitted that it doesn't give a Tiny Rat's Ass (TRA) about the absence of the wannabe blogger Rahul Gupta. In a formal statement at the Mayor's residence at Prabhadevi, a town spokesman said, "Frankly, we didn't even know that he was here. So the question of us missing him doesn't even arise" , and then quickly added, "but we wish him the best in his future endeavours."

Rahul Gupta, who goes by the juvenile nickname of Asterix, had moved to the city of Bombay in order to take a shot at blog-fame and to jumpstart his PhD, in that order of priority. Dozens of naive and mediocre posts later, he was still no way near his goal. So he resorted to blog-whoring. Blog-whoring is a concept in which a newbie blogger starts leaving inane comments on other, more popular blogs, with a trackback URL to his own blog. The hope is that any other commentator will mistakenly, or out of curiousity, click on the URL and visit his blog.

Such a childish endeavour was only partly successful, as Asterix managed to gather only a handful of loyal readers, most of which were amassed using lures of chocolates. By using self-commentary, Asterix managed to reach an all time high of 20 comments on a single post.

In interviews done all over the city, we talked to a lot of people and asked for their opinions. The results, not surprising in the least, are as follows:

"Asterix who?" : 68%
"I am glad the loser is gone" : 20%
"Bombay's loss is Delhi's gain. I will miss Asterix": 1%
"Well his blog was oookayish, or atleast the chocolates were nice": 6%
"I live/work on the same floor as Asterix. I HAD to read and comment on his blog under gunpoint" : 5%

As expected, Bombay police has launched a manhunt to nab the loony 1% readers who think his blog is good.

We managed to contact Asterix and asked for his comments on this formal press release.
"Well....What can I say, I am aghast! Day after day, I used to eat the hostel food and turn it into my blog posts. And after that this is the treatment I get!", he said. Although it may be debatable which one of hostel food and Asterix's blog post resembles smelly organic matter, but one thing is for sure: If all he did was to convert one to the other, then it wasn't too much of an effort.

He goes on to say, "How can they even say that they don't give a TRA? Not even a BRA (Big Rat's Ass). After all I have done and written about, I deserve atleast a BRA."

As usual, the blogger's comment became too much PG-13 to be recorded and the interview had to be abruptly terminated.

Never been tagged

This was the name of the movie I had decided to make. You see, till about an hour back, I was just another ordinary guy living just another ordinary life. Till a friend read about my plight and took pity on me. Life is worth living now. Yes, thats right. I am a part of the hip crowd that tags each other. The tagging clique, if you may.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.

The main parameter in this maximization problem is the choice of family Q.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.

Did it, and looked like a moron with one hand in the air.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

Highlights of the NatWest Series final between India and England.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is?

9:35pm

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?

9:42pm.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

Pearl Jam blaring loudly, through my headphones, into my ears. Can't ear anything else as a matter of fact.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

30 minutes back to answer the call of nature.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

Some mathematical derivation in my notebook.

9. What are you wearing?

T-shirt, Track-pants, sneakers - living up the grad-student dream.

10. Did you dream last night?

Unfortunately no.

11. When did you last laugh?

On reading today's Dilbert, a few minutes back.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

Asian Paints Distemper, whiteboard, calendar (no swimsuit calendars though :-( ), helluva lot of power sockets, ethernet points.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

A 40-year old dude laughing like a moron on _every_ dialogue of Ice Age 2, even the senti ones.

14. What do you think of this quiz?

Pain in the butt.

15. What is the last film you saw?

Ice Age 2.

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?

A mountain, with a cottage at the summit.

17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.

That I can kick your ass for such a quiz.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or
politics, what would you do?

I cannot say "world peace" as that is the territory of Miss Universe wannabes, so I will have to say college education for the entire population.

19. Do you like to dance?

Only when drunk!

20. George Bush.

The luckiest bastard who doesn't deserve even an iota of what he has got.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

Munni

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

Munna

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Why look for discomfort else where when you can find it right at home?

24. What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?

I am sorry but we are aleady overbooked, we will have to offload you. Back to the earth you go!

25. 5 people who must also do this in their blog.

The madness must stop here! On the other hand, I want to name Solzaire and Tweety if they are reading. A little sadism never hurts ;-)

Nation applauds much wanted change in law

BOMBAY, INDIA (12 APR 2006): The entire nation stood on its feet today and welcomed the introduction of the much sought after reservation bill. The bill aims to guarantee the availability of girlfriends to the deprived sections of the male society. Although the exact details of the bill haven't been released yet, its salient features are as follows:

Who gets some?

The bill seeks to help out the needy and deprived males. As of now, it covers all engineering students, graduate students, medical students from North India, pizza delivery guys, waiters in Bombay's quarter bars, Haryanvis, Indian armed forces and airline pilots. The honourable minister for HR, Mr Arjun Singh elaborates - "We are trying to cover all demographics where the males hardly get to interact with females". This new category will be called the MIDGETs for Men in Deprivation of Girlfriends Etc. The "etc." covers one-night stands, "just good friends", "sahelis", live-in partners and the like. As of now, the MIDGETs cover almost 27% of the population!

This law is not without precedent. In 1991, its predecessor, the "Cool guys should definitely get girls" Act, it was ensured that all B.A/B.Sc/B.Com male students should be granted easy access to the female form. At that time, the logic provided for the Act was that these students, pursuing their worthless degrees, are no match for the professionally qualified B.Tech/B.E/B.Arch/MBBS students who land up with all the nice brides. The 1991 Act, recommended by the Sandal comission, wished to rectify that situation and was a nudge in the right direction. The Act was successful in making procreation feasible for 22.5% of the male population.

However, with every revolutionary idea, come the imbeciles who oppose it. To oppose the 1991 Act, two students from IIT and IIM turned publicly gay to show their defiance. Will such an uncouth opposition be on display this time too?

"No way! 15 years of conditioning have made us totally heterosexual", says Anand, a BA student of Hindu College, Delhi University, with his arms around his two girlfriends.

The logic behind the law

The MIDGETs have been suffering from a lack of female contact (platonic or otherwise) for decades now. A survey carried out in 2005 attributed an average of 13.5 girlriends to every engineering student in IIT. But the figure fell to an abysmal 0.13 after removing "chat-friends" and "orkut-buddies". Hence the need!

"Would you want a horny nuclear engineer in control of the atomic power plant? Huh? Would you?", opines the head of nuclear safety at BARC, Trombay.

Minister Arjun Singh echoes the concern - "Due to lack of female company, boys in IIT were turning to homosexuality, or worse, assembly programming! So it was high time for some affirmative action".

Implementation nightmares

With 49.5% of the male population becoming legally eligible overnight, the question arises as to where will we get the requisite numbers?

"We are talking with the governments of Sri Lanka and Bangladesh", answers Arjun Singh. Bangladesh, in particular, can come in handy with its large diaspora legally and illegally settled in India. Talks have started which will create almost a million jobs, exclusively for female foreigners, in the next 2 years. It should be noted that on account of the bad example set by Manisha Koirala, India will not be "that interested" in pursuing the matter with Nepal.

This will also allay any fears of the non-MIDGET community on the lines of "not being able to find a bloody girlfriend nowadays".

Implications for gays

So what about gays in the MIDGET community? Will a girlfriend be forced down their throats too?

"These are minor wrinkles that can be straightened out. Remember, the State of India doesn't recognize homosexual relationships as legal! And anyway, its high time we stopped discriminating on the basis of sexual preferences", clarifies Arjun Singh.

"Further, it shouldn't be a big problem. They can become 'just friends'. From what I have seen in the reruns of mediocre American sitcoms, chicks really dig gay guys", adds Singh, before quickly replacing the word 'chicks' by girls.

Well, as of today, the bill has been passed unanimously in both the houses of the parliament and is awaiting the signature of the President, who coincidentally is also single and may relate to the problems of the MIDGETs.

This reporter will take your leave now and be off to enrol in one of the neighbourhood engineering polytechnics.

Untagged man very unhappy

Couldn't resist an onion style post.

BOMBAY, INDIA (7 Apr 2006) - Area man Rahul Gupta, who goes by the blog-alias of asterix2k, has declared that he is on the verge of emotional bankruptcy. And the reason is that no one has ever tagged him. Not once. When contacted, he said "I come across inane blogs daily where people are tagging each other senseless. I want to be a part of that crowd. I want to belong! IS THAT TOO BLOODY MUCH TO ASK??"

The rest of the interview had to be postponed, as asterix2k became blasphemous. On resumption, asterix2k added that he is dying to let the world know about his last five crushes, the seventeen books he likes, the twenty three movies he can't get tired of watching, and the dozen things he can't live without.

"I think the entire world is ready to know what turns me on", he conjectured.

Tagging is a complex process wherein, a blogger details out his favourite lists of books, movies, MMS clips etc, and in turn, tags another blogger friend who repeats the loop. So is tagging limited to just ordinary fares like what we prefer to read and watch?

"No. It works at many levels, from top-ten favourite colors to top-ten favourite traits in women", answers Rahul.

He continues to say that answering a tag is a great way to make a post without actually having anything to say, but still attract two dozen comments or more, depending on how famous the blog is. "So , this is right down my alley, because my blog is really 'a blog about nothing'. A vacuous tag-post will fit right in!", he adds.

Preliminary studies show that the following are the ultimate goals (in descending order) of every blogger:
a) Get a real person of the opposite sex to visit the blog.
b) Get tagged.
c) Get a s*it-load of comments on every post.
d) Squat on a good blog-domain name, even if we aren't blogging yet, *just in case*
e) Make meaningful posts.

Legend goes that many online romances have bloomed as a result of tagging. Female blogger Sarah (real name hidden) says, "I thought Zack (real name hidden) was just another stupid male blogger. But then I came across his tag-post! When I read that he likes to sleep on the left side of the bed, likes his eggs scrambled and adores the movie Josie and the Pussycats, I knew it was a match made in heaven!". Their marriage lasted two months after two years of online courtship.

"Right now I would rather get tagged than laid.", gushes Rahul in a wave of emotion. "After that I can move on to tell the world the color of my shorts, my adventures with my pet spider, my gargling habits and the 10-page analysis of my favourite character in Seinfeld", he quips.

Tagging has often been derided by blog-critics as being typical of the "I scratch your back, you scratch mine" philosophy prevalent in the blogging world. Blogger friends comment on each other's posts, irrespective of the post's contents, so that the post/comment count stays healthy. So isn't tagging the same sort of evil?

"No way! First of all, let me clarify that I have myself made half the comments on my blog. And this was possible only because I was vigilant enough to check for comments every half hour, and answering any comments right away!", clarifies Rahul, now visibly agitated.

"Secondly, who'd you rather prefer scratching your back? A stranger, or a friend who's more familiar with the terrain?", he adds.

Well, evil or not, this correspondent wishes asterix2k the best of luck in getting tagged, but secretly hopes that he never gets a chance to read about the blogger's "ten places on my body where it itches the most" list.

Flushing the TOIlet

I wonder what the hell is going on in the minds of the simians who manage the tabloid known as The Times of India, whose creative nicknames include Slimes of India and the TOIlet Times.

My parents have always been a follower of the Indian Express for as long as I have been able to read the alphabet. Even then, they used to acknowledge that TOI, though partisan, and a butt-kissing servant of the Govt. of India, did used to have real news on its pages.

Somewhere in the early nineties, I had my first serious look at the TOI. I was shamelessly mesmerized. The thickness of the newspaper could only mean one thing - more probability of a cartoon somewhere in side. Infact, I forced my parents to subscribe to the Sunday Times of India so that I could enjoy Mindsport (a puzzle column) and Hagar the Horrible. The front pages never interested me that much because I was getting the daily dose from IE and the good old Doordarshan.When I moved to the college hostel, my long attachment with IE was broken and a new one with TOI was forged. And believe it or not, it was still because I read only the cartoons and nothing else.

Then one day, I began noticing the supplement "Delhi Times". Nothing much, a collage of photographs of forty something socialites, semi-naked movie stars, insipid interviews, pointless articles. Needless to say, I was hooked. Delhi Times used to be the paper we used to carry to the toilet for timepass reading. What we didn't realize that it belonged there, and thus, we shouldn't have brought it back. Nonetheless, my fascination waned pretty quickly.

Until they snatched me back with www.indiatimes.com. The sleaziest tabloid I have seen in my life! After watching some utterly crappy (I am really out of adjectives here) 'news' and raunchy photographs, I sensed a strong sense of deja vu.

Just have a look at the 'headlines' posted at the beginning of the post.

An Egyptian ship carrying 1300 people sunk in the Red Sea, but Aishwarya's compatibility with Abhishek is more important I guess.

By catering to the basic desires of the masses, the TOIlet times has succeeded in raking loads of moolah. Like Microsoft, it has some top notch businessman in managerial positions. Who possess the skill and the audacity to sell mediocre stuff to me, just because it looks jazzy and is all shiny and glossy! And the sad part is that there is hardly any newspaper left (apart from Hindu) to provide us with real news. Even Indian Express is a shadow of its previous self.

I guess until things improve, I would never have to worry about the shortage of toilet paper in the country.

No ether in the net

First they announce a quiz barely after I complete 2 assignments. I dont complain but study and give the quiz. Then on the same day, I get _another_ surprise quiz in another lecture. I feel betrayed and robbed off all my innonence, but still I stay quiet. As expected, I screw up the quiz but calm down after just half an hour of hysterics. This is life, I think.

But then, horror of all horrors, my ethernet card dies on me. This one breaks me completely. I can live without food, clothes, water, girlfriends, but I cannot, I repeat, I simply cannot live without those sweet little packets of internet traffic. Suddenly life becomes devoid of all meaning and I feel like dialing the Indian equivalent of 911.

Guess Monday will bring some good news about my replacement card. If that doesnt work out, I can always move back to Delhi - the land of redundant internet connections and the home of the 24x7 tech support.