Ladies and Gentleman, presenting...
Nelson "Morgan Freeman" Mandela
Srzly, Professor Farnsworth, take me with you! (ya I'm still living in 2011-peaking memes)
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Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Friday, December 20, 2013
The most sincere Mandela eulogy?
Srzly, Professor Farnsworth, take me with you! (ya I'm still living in 2011-peaking memes)
Friday, November 29, 2013
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
John (Abraham) and Freddie (Mercury)
Add a few years to John Abraham, when he's got a receding hairline typical of the 40s, a mustache, and a pair of those cool blues, and you get a reminder of Freddie Mercury...
Hasn't anybody noticed?*
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Wednesday, January 09, 2013
Remember this?
Common parenting practise across the northern plains of India.
photo ©Tanja Askani
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Thursday, November 29, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Homecamp Basecamp
Didn't get to debut the tent on the previous trek, so thought of doing so right here in my apartment. Blogging from inside my tent right now :)
Short note: Today was curious - got up in time, had a bath, got a slick new shaved look, got ready to move out, and then just spent the entire day in front of the computer. So I have been "camping" in more than one sense today.
Say hello to my tent buddy, Blush
This one with the sheet on
Short note: Today was curious - got up in time, had a bath, got a slick new shaved look, got ready to move out, and then just spent the entire day in front of the computer. So I have been "camping" in more than one sense today.
Say hello to my tent buddy, Blush
This one with the sheet on
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Thursday, October 11, 2012
Romantic couplets of the men that make the nation mobile
चाय में रंग नहीं बनता दूध के बिना
महफ़िल में रंग नहीं बनता आपके बिना
तुझे तकदीर से चुरा लेने का मन है करता
तेरी एक तस्वीर से मेरा मन नहीं भरता
With all the grimy travel involved these days, I'm gonna keep a log of these. I've been long fascinated by the images - from days of Madhuri Dixit, Rani Mukherjee, to Katrina Kaif - complemented with these shitty romantic couplets, found pasted on truck/bus/auto/tempo windscreens. These guys probably develop their romantic notions from it - more likely (just my perception here) that the prettier the picture and the saltier the couplet, the better they jerk off.
महफ़िल में रंग नहीं बनता आपके बिना
तुझे तकदीर से चुरा लेने का मन है करता
तेरी एक तस्वीर से मेरा मन नहीं भरता
With all the grimy travel involved these days, I'm gonna keep a log of these. I've been long fascinated by the images - from days of Madhuri Dixit, Rani Mukherjee, to Katrina Kaif - complemented with these shitty romantic couplets, found pasted on truck/bus/auto/tempo windscreens. These guys probably develop their romantic notions from it - more likely (just my perception here) that the prettier the picture and the saltier the couplet, the better they jerk off.
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Monday, September 10, 2012
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Cat's Existentialism
This to preface my start with Camus' "The Rebel", that I located on Pa's bookshelves just this morning. Its strange why I hadn't laid my hands on it earlier, when I was on my unmatched reading streak, coming across some very formative gems of writing in succession. Frankly, I don't know what the book would be about, to have tagged it outright "existential". Whatever it is, I'm hopeful it gets me some nice booty.
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Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Seoul 1988 Olympic Dove Roast
Say, this flame ceremony roasted a fleet of 'doves of peace' released at the start of the opening ceremony to Seoul Olympics in 1998, who had nowhere else to perch at but the flame cauldron... flaming pigeons, huh, new sport?
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Wednesday, August 01, 2012
Borat equivalent
If you could translate the scene four days back, with Y trying to teach me how to swim, into a cricket context, this would be it. I'm the aquatic version of Borat. I sink faster in water than art-house movies in the box office.
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Monday, July 16, 2012
The Wrong Side of Guwahati?
Guwahati is in recent news for the public molestation and assault on a teenage girl outside a pub, as impotent onlookers swarm in just for a peek. Though disturbing and condemnation-worthy, it gives us reasons to celebrate. What it does is send positive signs that Guwahati is a blossoming city (or a concept of city as we know it) - now to be counted among the league of Delhi, Gurgaon, Mumbai, Bangalore, all of whom have been proud to have their own string of rapes and molestations to claim. This is how the peripheral states merge with the mainstream. I can imagine the expression on many people who were always hesitant move to such a place, but who now feel relieved that they can find men of equal degeneracy, and mobs to dissolve their personal responsibility and revel in uninhibited impromptu exploration into the human anatomy. Same goes for the women who don't wish to change "the game" that they're so well versed in merely due to a change of cities. We revel in being malicious and delight in mocking our midgets - including our midgets themselves (except for that one midget). Who ever had a problem to that?
The one in the problem zone right now, is Mr. Amar Jyoti Kalita (aka "the man in the red t-shirt"). He is on the run, and purportedly presently hiding in Bhubaneshwar (Odisha). What's the best thing about the developing story is, that this guy is on Facebook. And the profile is public, which opens a Pandora's Box into his personal life.
His picture updates tells that he admires the Indian Army (in the meantime, an Army jawan in Assam is jailed for molestation, how coincidental is that), likes Pierce Brosnan (which is why he calls himself "bond"), and is quite a roadie driving around his Maruti Swift to envious locales. He uploads his childhood, and school photographs. His favorite food is Maggi ("Home made", as he's specified). He even likes Iñárritu's Babel - spelled Bable (sic) on his profile. He shares a lot of witty humour doing rounds on Facebook (example - Gandhi: "Alcohol is not the answer to all questions" Vijay Mallaya: "Alcohol is not the answer to all questions, but if you don't get the answers it helps you forget the questions"). He drinks VAT 69, classy.
Ironically, one of his status updates (from Nov, 2011) reads "Enjoy life and all the things you have at the moment because you can't have everything at once"... seems he was living his life on a hunch.
He's so much like everyone else. And now he's being hounded by everyone else. He's been labeled a "rapist" (which he technically isn't). There's even a group called "Amar Jyoti Kalita Ko Phaansi Do" (hang AJK) with 1013 likes [Note: the URL of the page says "Kill AJK", not hang, which in itself hints at an irrational mindset of this activist crowd].
Each of his recent Facebook updates have received scores of shares, by people demanding his head - especially ones in which he's wearing that same red t-shirt and with that same dirty smirk, but curiously not the ones where he's with his music band (he claims he's a vocalist), or where he's just a regular guy at some family function. He's also made the great mistake of uploading his passport scan, which has already got a mob resharing it on their pages - I wonder if those passport details are abused. In summary, his profile, though it conveys a superficial calm, has been decimated.
Says one popular campaign line: "पहचानिये इन चेहरो को ये वही है गुवाहाटी के दरिदें । ये फरार है …अगर आपको ये कही दिख जाये तो तुरत सजा दें उसके बाद मरियल हालत में पुलिस को सौप दे।
और इनमे से कुछ हैवानो की फेसबुक प्रोफाइल देखकर इनकी पहचान करे …॥
समाज के मुंह पर कालिख पोतने वाले ये दरिदे बचने नही चाहिये…"
Talk about passive activism - come see this.
Let me state that I don't sympathize with Mr. Kalita here. I'm scared - he's just as normal as everybody else, and that is the scary part. Having gone through his past year's posts on Facebook in a rush, I can only perceive him as being condemned to death for 40 minutes of deviation from the accepted normalcy (which, too, seems like under intoxication). How far are we from that? Its all credit to our mob mentality, which has even brought out the basest of behaviour among the holy men.
There's no simple solution. What are we gonna make the charge against - alcohol? bars? girls in bars? girls? men? engineering graduates? mustaches? gatherings?
To end on a lighter note, the last thing he wants is to be tracked through 4-square ("Amar Jyoti Kalita is now the Mayor of Hotel Pal Heights, Bhubaneshwar" or some update like that), or perhaps through an update like this one
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Wednesday, June 13, 2012
CM Number
Everyone knows the Erdos Number
How about a
CM number: the blood distance from the Chief Minister of the current state you find yourself threatened.
Usage:
"Oye chhod de mujhe, chutiye, mera CM number 3 hai."
"ओये छोड़ दे मुझे, चूतिये, मेरा CM नंबर ३ है |"
("Oye chestnutass, leave me facken alone, my numbar is the 3")
How about a CM number: the blood distance from the Chief Minister of the current state you find yourself threatened.
Usage:
"Oye chhod de mujhe, chutiye, mera CM number 3 hai."
"ओये छोड़ दे मुझे, चूतिये, मेरा CM नंबर ३ है |"
("Oye chestnutass, leave me facken alone, my numbar is the 3")
- In the Dilli-UP territory, everybody claims a CM number of 4 or less, though they are rarely speaking the truth.
- In Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka, marital union is legalised by plastering on the banners, next to a photo of the couple, a creature of CM number <= 4, in a pope-pose i.e. "let these two children fornicate with my consent".
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Thursday, May 31, 2012
One blowjob, please
"hi. one blowjob, please"
"very well, sir, please follow me this way. it will be 200"
"200! i've only got 50"
"i'm sorry sir, 50 won't do... well, i'm easy game. 100 would be alright"
"lady, you push me hard for a bargain there, but that's okay with me, too."
"this way, please."
"how about something for entree? Say, foreplay?"
"im sorry, sir, foreplay is only included in the long-term-relationship course that will cost you much more"
12.9174214, 77.6389647
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Tuesday, May 01, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Dulhan Maachis - Sabki Apni
दुल्हन माचिस - अपनी दुल्हन सब घिसेंगे
Alt: दुल्हन माचिस - अपनी दुल्हन सबकी
Alt: दुल्हन माचिस - अपनी दुल्हन सबकी
This epic moment of discovery enroute Ranchi Airport from Jamshedpur, at one Panchwati Restaurant on NH33. It fits well my ongoing thought process.
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Wednesday, February 15, 2012
The Reflection Sees it All
Previously: The reflection leaned against the almirah mirror, intently reading into its owner on other side of that wafer-thin barrier. He could see himself over several years from this close. He could read on his face what it felt like with on those days. He could see how bad he was at his own authority - every muscle seemed to have a sovereign reign which is why he couldn't fan either of his ears. He could see the fractured appeal of his fractured noseline, now in a new shade of tan thanks to a week in the Leh sun. He could make out, for the first time, of the look of a shamed conscience, as in when a slave is scolded by his god. He could think of several goofy muscle-configurations that make him ever-less likely to fornicate. He could notice that he would not age well. He could make out that he was stocking on too much sesame. He could conjecture that he has been arrested in development and lost in translation, from the fact of his single look. He could see the asymmetry in the division of his face - since his discovery of unsymmetrical left and right feet, this was concerning. He then combed through his hair with his fingers, to collect them in a bunch and pull them back, as if he were fashioning a ponytail; he could see how that smoothed the fabric of wrinkles on his forehead, and wondered if a good crop on the top would serve a cosmetic solution to old age.
Vanity would not be the right word at this point, though its close.
Vanity would not be the right word at this point, though its close.
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Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Delhi prostitutes
UPDATE: Prostitute at my doorstep.
Funny condensation filaments - that seemingly jut out from the fields along the R. Yamuna to my left - make a convex shield-sorts above me. I occasionally gaze up to collect and make whatever i can of this fascinating sight that reminds of aerodynamic flow, and pedal along, and eat some more of the road. Surprises to the common man returning home tired, as a cyclist zips by, whistling to signal his approach.
Surprises to this cyclist, as his eyes steal a scene from the city's underbelly: a couple of prostitutes (ugly and man-like, as be the norm), sticking out from the dense grassy growth along the road, not far from Akshardham (to think that religion and sex don't mix, hah!), seemingly fixing their rates with a couple of freight-auto-wallahs, one of whom looks a boy of mere 12 (but at least somebody's compensating for me by starting out early; 'maintaining the balance', as we say).
Insert King Crimson's choral verse to "Ladies of the Road" here:
Surprises to this cyclist, as his eyes steal a scene from the city's underbelly: a couple of prostitutes (ugly and man-like, as be the norm), sticking out from the dense grassy growth along the road, not far from Akshardham (to think that religion and sex don't mix, hah!), seemingly fixing their rates with a couple of freight-auto-wallahs, one of whom looks a boy of mere 12 (but at least somebody's compensating for me by starting out early; 'maintaining the balance', as we say).
Insert King Crimson's choral verse to "Ladies of the Road" here:
All of you know that the girls of the road
Are like apples we stole in our youth.
All of you know that the girls of the road
Been around but are versed in the truth
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