Are you blonde?

In this world of political correctness, mere humans like me may goof up quite a bit..like speak our mind (i can hear you gasp) or expect people to take the initiative to say hi (get off the floor!!) Ok so i maybe wrong, expecting courtesy.Anyway, i chose to take the path of truthfulness and righteousness, translated:I will do as I please. On my way to attaining nirvana though, there is one thing that makes my brains jiggle. And often, sitting by the window (which is where you are expected to sit if our pondering over something eureka-ish) i am thinking "How do you tell someone they are dumb?". Do you let particles of grey matter out when you sneeze and then pray its contagious? Let big and complicated debates hanging in the air hoping they will take the hint? Or pound them with information with carefully memorized dates and events? (makes it also sound aunthentic..besides you can whoop with joy for remembering all that..if the person is dumb enough, they will also never check it up..causing you to be their hero). I dont know. Can you simply smash their skull? Any non-violent suggestions are welcome.

Btw, you will notice my use of hero. So just this once..hero/heroine. Ah! there.

Hairy tales

My wandering about town in search of a decent hair dresser has led me to take this extreme step of blogging my hair worries. Situation is, I walked into this swanky salon in uptown Mumbai, where snooty receptionists with constipated smiles direct you to your hair stylist (that’s the name for people who wash your hair, cut it and then for some inexplicable reason blow-dry it. Rendering the first activity useless. This entire fuss also causes some very thrilled greens to leave the comfort of your pocket)

So, virgin in the land of hair fashionistas,, I expect a charming, cute woman to walk upto me with a smile. Instead, turns up miss uber cool- fresh off the catwalk look, stilettos et al..Am I expected to pay this woman who looks like she could buy me off? As we walk towards what seemed like the gallows (maybe that’s where they take the people who are a walking fashion faux pas). I almost faint with relief as we approach a rather fatherly salon chair. As my butt causes the cushion to heave, I can feel her eyes tut tut my hairstyle. She then washes my hair, and finally gets the elusive scissor near my split-ended locks. Now, for those who are befuddled, it is and may I repeat it is imperative that they play with your hair a couple of times. Do not take this personally. As the minute hand lazes down to 20 minutes, shes blow-drying my hair, Some serious heat enters my skull. And I can bet some of my ear wax almost melted. Armed with mousse, she takes to my hair with vengeance and a little more blow-drying, I am coiffured. Ta da and my new look is revealed to me. I like it. I like the way the hair falls on my face, on my face, on my face (aarrgghh annoying) but I smile and am ready to hit the road. After the aforementioned green event, I make my way to the nearest bus. Yeah so it seems like a luxury, but I need to get home. With regular encouragement from the bus conductor, cheap men and sewage breeze, I tie my hair up. It looks better this way.

A pound for your thoughts

A rather intellectual conversation with a friend caused frenzied activity in my brain. What if, and you will know how remote a possibility this is, we could lose weight for everytime we thought intelligent thoughts. Now before you shout in protest, i understand that classification would be ..umm..well difficult. But that takes away from the thought. Lets tuck our concerns away as a fat deposit. Say you were thinking about global warming, the words being a meta tag for the brain to kickstart its processes. So your brain would pump some energy to your nerves and push it through to the heart. The heart in all its cupid-disgusted glory will unleash more energy and your metabolism will up itself. And before you know it, global warming will make you sweat. Imagine all the fun you could have. Just simply tune in your thoughts and bang! you have lost pounds. And of course, people like me (puffed chest and all) would be petite creatures worth some good ol Hollywood glory. Me being a copywriter, in case you were wondering. Cellulite-reduction creams would come with some grandmom advice about how to get thinking. These would be enhanced with almonds to aid thinking. Self-help book titles would read ' 7 habits of highly thinking people'. Thinking caps could actually become a brand. You could sin with a bowl of strawberries and fresh cream and make it vanish. Paris Hilton, out of the way, fat lump.

Its a match made in heaven.. they say about marriage. A close friend of mine between whoops of joy and glorious bouts of enthusiasm has explained to me that her brother has finally given the fugitive nod..for marriage. So what are we talking here? About long relief and happiness-induced bouts of gyrating by rolls-of-fat aunties and almost-passed-out uncles. Of course, everyone truns up for the reception fresh as a daisy to wish the couple thrown into the circus . Some people bring the money to wish them luck and maybe cover up the expenses for the buffet their going to drown into- mintues after getting off stage. Now i dont mind this extravagance. But what gets my grey cells is this arranged marriage funda. A guy and girl are thrown into holy matrimony with a an inkling of an idea about the other person. I mean, how much can a joker parade with tea cups reveal? And cheeky parents suggesting "take 15 mins alone" isnt really my idea of a date. After which, as the situation gets more awkward the dads crack crass jokes and mom cast appreciative eyes and shake thier heads at their hilarious husbands. The kids cringe, passing an eye around the place for a possible way to duck this show. A buffet of namkeens and sweets are laid out, enough to keep one on the treadmill for a long time. And at the end of this evening, as the family heads back home, the possible groom and bride remain clueless. I think live-ins are more fun. Forewarned ir better.

Days like these can really get a monkey thinking about his career. And I am only human. You know how we always think the perfect job would be one where the money flows in and all we have to do is put our feet up? But you know what? Sitting here i know its not as much fun as it sounds. Frustratingly worse when you can see an opportunity to sleep. So often a day goes by without a solitary word escaping my fertile mind into the white canvas of Word. And this day is marked my subtle and somtimes desperate attempts to find something to while away time. And more frenzied efforts to restrain my over-active imagination. With people here clinging on to briefs and actually working with the servicing people, bells are clanging away in my head. I know i should move and do something laudable, or audible or as a saving grace something that is even plausible. But sitting here i am being driven out of my brains. Maybe i should use this time to reflect on better times. But then these are better times. I guess ill just head back to the heated deabte i was having with the paper shredder..

Asta la vista

Time:8.30 pm
Date:29th March 2007
Occasion: To celebrate our reaching corporate puberty
A farewell bring out the well in all of us..for some like me where tears threaten to spill over at the mention of a goodbye, its a spring. Seems like a farewell can make any1 cry. Lets try and identify species.
Sozzlers: Their habitat is often located next to bars and around them. Frequently spotted with drink and a funny walk, this species keeps danger at bay by going beserk with the drinks. Their behaviour is marked by vigourous gyrating mostly out of rhythm.

Look at mes: Found in places with maximum action, this species looks to force emotion out of people. Typical behaviour includes throwing themselves into people's arms with hyterical cries. This species identify thier target and jump in at an opportune moment to garner eyeballs. Crocodile tears and air kisses fly thick and fast. After these histronics, they leave their bewildered prey to fend for themselves

em genuines: These guys are the ones who actually manage to convince themselves they are going to miss everyone including the nose picking puntu. They hug everyone (yes puntu as well) and hope to god they will meet again. Sincere and nice, if u have missed them for 2 years u will know them at the farewell.

There are more but words seem eroded..Batch of 2007..if i loved being here it was bcoz of u guys..Thank you!

The Lyrics of the new Nike commercial

This one makes you proud of Indian advertising

Rav patrao rav (Wait partner wait...) Khedong maka di mhunta aao (...let me play, i say) Khedong maka dina zhalya (If you don't let me play...) Tuzho kortelem patlanv (... i will keep chasing you) Khedoch amche oslen (Our game is like this only...) Kednanch ravonk nosle (... never have time to wait) undir mazaracho khed yo koslo (What kind of cat & mouse duel is this...) maka bhogta oslen (...that I love so much) Arre maaroon, dhoroon, phodoon saiba (In this hitting & catching & breaking..) noxib mozhe phoslen. (... my destiny is entrapped)

special mention: a special friend who sent me these lyrics