Idiots guide to Tinglish

Lately there is so much babada bibada over this thing called Hinglish.
One dude went ahead to say that by so and so year (usually analysts use
a round figure year like 2020), Hinglish will be the largest spoken bhasha
on this planet. I say, how come no one is mentioning Tinglish?

In its own way, Tinglish is slightly different from Hinglish. Hinglish is a
mix of Hindi idioms and words with English words.Like in,
yeh hi hai right choice baby. Well, Tinglish people dont like mixing Telugu
words in English sentences. Rather they Englishify Telugu sentences.

Example
English:We are going for a walk. Would like to join us?
Hinglish:Ham park ko ja raha hai, for a walk. You can come.
Tinglish:Memu walk ki park ki veltunnaamu. Join avutaavaa?

Thats not just there to Tinglish. Here are some Tinglish rules.

Add a,e,i,o,u after every name, thing, animal and place.

For a Tinglish guy, Tinglish is actually Tinglishu. Tinglishu gaallu dont
like ending words abruptly. Sh is like suddenly stopping what we are saying.
shu is more like it. Ask a progammer in Hyderebad
'So young man, what do you know'.
If the answer is Cobolu, javaa, C plus plussu, windowsu, oracleu,
then you know that this guy is Tinglish.

There is another Tinglish thing.

The Question and the answer are the same.

English:Would like to have another beer?
Hinglish:Feel like, aur ek beer?
Tinglish:One more beer aa? (Along with a vigorous Indian head nod) or
One more beer? (With a melodramatic expression).
For all these questions the answer is same as the question.
One more beer?One more beer.

The height of this communication was observed last week atLeela Palace,
Bangalore, where, after a seminar they served cocktails. A Tinglish friend
of mine initmidated by the bartenders English asked,
Cocktail? (Do you have cocktails?)
Yeah.
Cocktail. (One cocktail for me. Whatever it is).

Another Tinlgish rule.

Dont stress. Repeat.

Have you ever seen Tinglish people playing cricket or volleyball?

Runrunrunrunrunrun.
Comeoncomeonocomeon.
Throwitthrowitthrowit.
Catchitcathcitcatchitcatchit.
Yesyesyesyes.
Nononononononononono.

Typical calls on the roads
Autoautoauto.
Railway station?Railway station?
Itsokitsok.
Sorrysorrysorrysorry a.

Another golden rule of Tinglish is,

Dont translate. Substitute.

Take a Telugu sentence. Substitute everyword in it with English words.
Lunch had aa?(Had your lunch?)Saw the movie aa?Chiranjeevi fan aa?
AC working aa?The height of this substitution was a remark made by our
sales manager.I had a surgery recently and stayed indoors for three weeks.
On the fourth weekI shaved my beard and attended my office.
He saw me and remarked
You have come color.

Smiley's Haiku Reviews

War of the worlds

Who is creepier?
Dakota Fanning or
the aliens?

The Zahir

Fuck
The
Zahir

Dear Blog,

I recently attended 'The Innovation Summit' organized by CII
at The Leela Palace, Bangalore. It was about Indian businessmen
succeeding against all odds using 'Innovation'.

Totally loved it. I was amazed by Dainik Bhaskar's philosophy of
'Leadership from Day 1'. The CEO went on explaining how they
managed to be No.1 from day 1 when they launched their newspaper
in Gujarat.

Dainik is now entering Mumbai with DNA. I am looking forward
to the battle and its outcomes.

**

I suddenly lost drive to attend parties or to meet people. I am
sitting in my own shell and letting in only a few. I have no complaints.

**

A good friend is staying with me now. We discovered a park nearby for
our morning walks. We also discovered 'talking to each other' which
we used to do a lot when we were much younger. These days I am
looking forward to getting up early in the morning.

**

7: Number of people who called me on my birthday
3: SMS I received
0: E Greetings or Greetings I received
3: Number of people who I invited for the party
0: Number of gifts I received

What a contrast!!!!!

**

Watched 'Aparichitudu' (by Sankar) and 'After the Sunset' recently.
Loved them.

**

The movie I am looking forward to is 'War of the worlds'.
The book I am looking forward to is 'The world is flat'.

Day 6
Anischya. Anischya.

On day four they asked us to observe something called a samkara, rougly
can translated as 'sensation'. Four days of meditative silence by then, calmed
down many of the chirpy voices that usually play at the back of my mind.
Uneding loops of ad jingles to upcoming tasks. All died.

By Day 5 I was very calm. Almost with no thought. Except for a worry that
I might catch cold. Juxtaposing the power of now, every now and then, in
every break, I would come out and watch the trees and listen to the birds.
Being completely present. It filled me with a feeling of triumph.

In order to understand Vipassana, you need to understand Samkara.
To begin with, the instructor asked me to observe the sensations I have
ON my nose. Concentrate on nothing but ON the nose.

Did you ever experience going numb? Your leg gets numb, you feel nothing
and you do stuff like rubbing or shaking to bring it back to senses. Remember
how is feels like? It feels like stages or onion skins. Stage by stage you finally
regain total sensation. Observing your nose is exactly opposite to that. At first
you observe a tiny pressure spot here, a tinge there, a twitch, slight vibration
etc. They appear and disappear. (Anischya, Anischya, or This too shall pass).

Then you enter a stage two. Now you can observe more number of samkaras.
Some of them lasting a longer. Most of them lasting only for a second. Some of
them pleasant. Some of them itchy, some of them painful, some of them just
neutral.

Anistchya. Anistchya.

You then enter stage three. Now you can observe samkaras that are not just
ON the nose but area little deeper inside the skin. You can FEEL, the upper
skin, the flesh behind it, the insides of your nostrils, the beginning of your
nose, the tip of your nose, the end of your nose. Its not visualization. It is
feeling it. You can observe samkaras passing through, emerging,
disappearing, reappearing, piercing, swimming, cutting through, dissolving
and solidifying.

Anistchya. Anistchya.

You then enter stage four. Now your nose is nothing but a collection of vibrant
appearing and disappearing sensations. There is no solidity anymore.

Anistchya. Anistchya.

Every sensation that you feel is temporary. It is going to die. This simple
excercise is the foundation of Vipassana. It is mind blowingly simple.

As simple as E = M*c*c.

You like some of the sensations. You will develop a craving for them.
You hate some of the sensations. You will develop an aversion for them.

You become happy when you are able to observe the sensations as
instructed.You get frustrated when you dont observe the sensations.
This is the fundamental building block of human sorrow. You apply
labels to everything you perceive.You like some.You dont like some.

You want some.You dont want some.

When you get what you like, when you get what you want, you are
happy.When you get what you dont like or when you dont get what
you want,you are unhappy.

You want to be happy. You dont want to be unhappy.

Coming Next...

Day 7
Inside, outside. Outside, inside.

P.S: All the opnions and conclusions are strictly mine. That was my
experience and my conclusions. Truth or whatever is experienced
in totally different ways by each and every individual.

I am sure, if I take up the same Vipassana course again, my
conclusions will differ, given the new circumstances and new
experiences that I added up in between.

Truth I say, is what you experience 'now'. Its not your past
or its not your future. It is impermanent. (Contrary to the
popular belief that truth is absolute.).

My good friend Leela, with her superior writing skills, did a great
job of narrating her own Vipassana experience. Interested readers
might want to check her blog http://absolutelee.rediffblogs.com

Just In



48 laws of Power
Why men dont listen and women cant read maps

Two seemingly odd books to read on a single day. Both, thought provoking.

Why men dont listen...confirmed some of my worst fears about feminism and
womens lib. It also confirmed some of my little own theories about
men and women in general.

All in all, it was a good Sunday.

Love

Foot prints
on a beach.
Twined.

Day 4
The art of women

Day 4 was an extraordinary day. In a way, a very good day. I was already
ahead of the pack (Thanks to the realization of little dudes in my mind).
I was able to observe every pattern of thought and able to come back and put
my attention on the breath, with little trouble. (It was like playing solitaire.
You have just arranged the last of the cardsand now its time to send them to
the decks in sequence. Every thought pattern was identified and just observed
and then dismissed.)

By afternoon, I kind of entered a zone. It feels very light to have no thought,
to have no future, no past and just be present.

By evening I was beaming.

Day 5

On Day 5, they introduced something called 'Adhistana' which roughly can
be translated as 'Strong Determination'. When you take an Adhistana you
have to fulfill it. That day's adhistana was 'Not to move any part of the body
and from the position you sit in, for a full hour, doing nothing but observing
samkaras'. (More about Samkaras later).

The zone continued. I observed my samkaras successfully. I observed my mind
becoming sharper and sharper in the observation. I successfully managed the
'Adhistana' in my very firstsession itself. During Adhistana, my legs went
numb, my back exploded, it itched everywhere, you know the kind of itch
that you must scratch, but I managed to just merely observe all these
preprogrammed mind patterns. On the end of the day my mind was so calm
and serene, it started all kinds of visualizations with absolute clarity.

For a long time, I didnt realize that I entered another pre determined pattern.
I so identified with those visuals.
It took me another day and half to realize my craving for the creative zone and
a desire that is bigger than me which I often call 'The art of women'.


The Art of Women

Why?

It occured to me in a strange way (once again) while preparing my master plan.
I had six master goals, several long term goals and a lot of short term goals in
the plan. I suddenly asked myself the bad ass question 'why'?

Why do you want to be fit and healthy?
Why do you want to get rich?
Why do you want to get into profession you are planning to get into?

To bring clarity to the plan and orient the goal towards a common greater goal,
the book asked me several questions. I had to answer all the questions.

If you have one thing to choose (only one thing) what would it be?
If you have only one month left to live what would you do?
What makes you happy?

The answer my inner voice gave to all of those questions was always simple and
clear. I always laughed at the answer and used to shake my head and tell
myself 'Come on get serious dude, lets work on this plan with some real goals'.

It took me a full two years to realize that my inner voice was not joking. He was
giving me the right answers. The real goalsI have been trying to set are once
again oriented towards this greater goal.

My selfawarness graph kind of hit a peak that day.

Why do you want to be fit and healthy?
So that I can attract fit and healthy women and enjoy better sex.
Why do you want to get rich?
So that I can get whoever from wherever into my lap.
Why do you want to get into profession you are planning to get into?
I always wanted to get into media..hmmm...and have sex with dozen sex bombs.

If you have one thing to choose (only one thing) what would it be?
A sex bomb.
If you have only one month left to live what would you do?
Have lots of sex.
What makes you happy?
Sex. (Of course).

This actually puzzled me a lot. Yeah, like many men the first thing that occurs
to me when I look at a girl is sex.

But what puzzled me most was my desperation for sex.

In reality I am very picky and choosy when it comes to my women and sex.
(Not that I had a wide range of choice to choose from, but from whatever I had).

Kamasutra, a girl friend, porn flicks, a hustler and lots of art.

Actually the root of this fascination can be traced back to the age when I was
twelve. Thats when I read a copy of Vatsayana kamasutra. I was totally
hooked. I had a wild and vivid imagination. It added to the fire and created
an unlimited fascination for female anatomy.(At least thats what I thought so.)
When I was fourteen my dad bought a new apartment and we moved into it.
What came to me was my own bedroom (my brother stayed in a hostel) and
unlimited privacy.

It was also the year I graduated to Pastels and postercolors from water colors.
It was also the year my brain discovered the realtionship between a soft pastel
and the divine feminine form.

I fell in love with a blue eyed babe (she was two years junior to me) when I was
sixteen. I did everything a rowdy boy would do. I yelled her name whenever I
saw her. I bumped into her accidently on a daily basis and touched her.
(We called it a 'dash'). I wrote her name on the walls and everyone's desk in her
classroom. All my friends told her that I love her. I followed her to her bus stop,
to her classroom and to her restroom. I waited patiently for her upskirt view
while she played kho-kho.

I complimented her sexy thighs. I complimented her sexy blue eyes. I told her
I loved her spongy boobs. I told her I liked her smell.

She complained to our class teachers. Strangely no one believed her.
Smiley the gentleman can never indulge himself in something as cheap as this.
They adviced her to settle the matter on her own.

One day, her dad came to the school without a warning, looking for me.
I hid under a desk. No one found me that day. Another day, her brother came
to the school without a warning, looking for me. My friends gaurded me.

At the end of the year, that blue eyed sponge boob babe fell deeply and madly
in love with me.

We went to the local 'exhibition' and took agiant wheel ride, had a large papad,
jilebi and mirch bajji. We went to a hindi movie with our friends and sat next
to each other. The gentle rise and fall of her bosom, her smile, the pink in her
baby fat filled cheeks, the touch of her hand, the softness of her form (which
I could feel through her dress) simply awed me.

That night I drew my first nude.I tried to capture her in very few continuous
storkes. That night wasalso my first sleepless night. Within an year I was
drawing nothing but nudes. A good friend of mine and I joined hands (he is
now an art director for movies) to draw a book, titled 'How to make love
to a pregnant lady - 12 different ways'. It was also the year in which more
than half a dozen of my cartoons got published in leading local magazines.
I never told anyone about it. I never felt great about it. But I always proudly
displayed my nudes. It was also the year we discovered 'Debonair'. Nudes in
'Debonair'can at best be described as 'lousy'. But it was that age when you had
an erection before you finished saying 'cleavage' or 'boobs'.

Soon my art buddy and I discovered pornography (Popularly known as 26aka
BF which in turn is a short form for Blue Film, then).

Our first flick was a rude shock. (Lets call it a cultural shock). Till then women
were some kind of divine things we craved for and worshipped. The mystery
behind a girls dress was more fascinating than the girl herself. The flick broke
the magic. It was like your parents telling you that Santa is just another Banta,
or PC Sorcar revealing you the Great Indian Rope Trick. Poof. All the fucking
and sucking and all those eruptions of bodily fluids screwed the naive and
almost sacred fantasy world we lived in.

Your coolness factor exploded exponentially everytime you watched a porn
flick amongst your buddies. (Back then internet didnt exist andto get hold on
a tape in a small conservative town like ours was an adventure itself). We were
the cool dudes who had access to porn flicks. HilliBillies residing in the hostel
used to beg us to grant them moksha.

That year, VPSingh implemented Mandal commissionsrecommendations and
all hell broke loose. Our college was closed fortwo long fucking months. Hostel
hillibillies died of boredom. For aselected few we organized a porn flick (and
granted them moksha, forwhich they had to donate generously). On that show
we collected excess money, in other words,we made profit. Art buddy and I
bought our first beer (Golgen Eagle) with that money.

To this day, I am proud that I earned my first beer.

It took a smuggled 'Hustler' magazine to bring back the love, fascination, for
the female nude I had. Ironically, I regarded the pictures in Hustler as art.
(So did my art buddy). That book wasnt anything like we had everseen.
That high quality print, with resolution that we had never seen before on
such a high quality paper sure was art for us. That book wasthe most
valuable thing we possessed then. Art buddy and I replicated almost all the
major nudes in that book.

With all those replications we learned intuitively the female proportions,
curves, qualities, textures and tones.The more we learned the anatomy
the more fascinated we got.For a full month we drew and recited female
anatomy. I was more interested in 'curves' that were feminine and that
are feminine. Art buddy was moreinterested in accuracy. I never really
replicated. Rather, I explored with my pastel. Every new white sheet
was a new journey and a new possibility.

I would just draw a line that forms the lower half of a breast and continue
till the beginning of arm pit. I would pick a dry pasteland smudge evenly
a triangle. The triangle that begins with two soft dimples formed at the
end of the spinal and ends at the beginning of buttocks. I played a lot
with the 'volume' of a breast. and the finesse of a nipple.

I learned that the color and size of a female's nipple have their own
personalities. I lived in a world of tones, qualities and textures. Art
buddy lived in a world of proportions. He used to comeup with crazy
equations like'the proportions of the sides of a triangle that forms the
eyes and the chin are equal to the proportions of the sides of a triangle
that forms the nipples and the navel'.

Little did we realize that we unknowingly 'entered the matrix'. Little did
I realize that I developed a fascination that would become the defining
value for all the decisions that I would make in my future.It is that drive,
it is that longing that unsettled me, settled me, drove me places and
firmed me at places.

Vipassana strikes back

Recently I had minor throat and nose surgeries (Combo deal) .
I stayed home for more than two weeks and stayed mostly on solids.
It gave me ample time to finish some of my unfinished theories
(Why do we like peanuts and hate spianch? etc).

I could also able to pen down what was left about sharing my
Vipassana experience.

I like to think that some people actually read my posts instead of
directly clicking on the comments. It satisfies my ego.

I am pretending that some people actually read my previous posts
and are looking forward the upcoming 'Art of women' post. So here are
the links to the previous ones. The series begins in a day or two.

Smiley Goes to Vipassana
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/11/smiley-goes-to-vipassana-you-vipassana.html

Tweener
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/tweener-after-i-came-out-to-normal.html

The Vipassana Chronicles
The Day before the day before
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/vipassana-chronicles-day-before-day.html

The Day Before
Emotion has no reason, needs no reason and knows no reason
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/day-before-emotion-has-no-reason-needs.html

Day 1
Observe it; accept it, as it is.
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/day-1-observe-it-accept-it-as-it-is.html

Day 2
Your mind wanders. Smile.
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/day-2-your-mind-wanders.html

Day 3
A few important little people
http://jdv.blogspot.com/2004/12/day-3-few-more-little-people.html

Exciting times

Arent we living in one of the most exciting times?

On May 14th Micorsoft revealed its new XBox360 (also simply known as
xbox2) on MTV. Microsoft got everything right with the xbox, pre launch
hype, great product, great games and close to two million online users.
The power Halo was such that the release Halo2 changed the Balance
sheet of mighty Microsoft beyond estimations.

But Xbox failed in Japanese market. (Just 1.7 million units sold). The
design was very American. Japanese consumers unlike Americans are
very conscious about the product design.

So the team of XBox2 did a world wide poll (they have as much money
as they can spend) and independently developed several designs and
came up with an in vogue design.

The reality is, they screwed up big time. Serious gamers and nerds
dont really care about the shell. The hardware specs are good enough
to give an orgasm.



On the other hand, the leader of the pack, monster seller Sony is not
sitting idle. It released redesigned ultra cool PS2 recently which is a
big hit. Sony is following it up with PS3 which is not just a gaming
platform, but a 'media centre'. Sony previously failed big time previously
with its media stick. This time it is trying to get it right. If you know
Sony, they will get it


right. However, PS3 is not scheduled until 2007 end. That gives XBox
a year lead. Which is enough muscle for Microsoft to flex.

If you havent seen the hardware of PS3 yet, here you go..


On a totally other hand, our sweetie Lee's sister Preeti is showing
lots of improvment. She is managing to open her eyes on her own.
Which technically makes 'Out of coma'. Hey Preeti is not in a coma
any more. Thats one good news. On that same totally other hand,
Preeti is able to follow objects. Able to hear and see things on her
own. Moving her eyes on her own. Thats even better.

I joked with Leela, all she needs now is a screening of KillBill Vol. 1.

Just In

Got this awesome XBox game called Mech Assault 2.
Yes Sire, if you ask me, I am kicking ass.

The Story of Moby Dick
Sweet Dreams are made of these

A few long moments before the sunrise, Moby got his early morning erection
and woke up. Astonishingly the whole field was erect too. Then he saw the
daughter coming out of the house and fucking a cock.

That was the horniest and kinkiest stuff he ever saw. Then he saw the cock
turning into a huge watermelon.

Moby dick understood what was happening. He watched the daughter for
two weeks. On the last day of the second week he couldnt hold it anymore.
That night he dug himself into the field, covered himself with the mud, with
just his cock outside. During the morning, he promptly got his erection.
The daughter came and fucked him crazy. Both of them ended up in waves
of orgasm. To the daughters surprise, that dick didnt turn into a water melon.
It just went limp.

So she fucked again. She ended up in waves of orgasm. Moby ended up in
waves of orgasm.

To the daughters surprise, that dick didnt turn into a water melon. With
the first rays of sun other cocks went limp. But not this one.

Daughter promptly reported this incident to the farmer.

For which the farmer said, Ok then, cut that cock.

So she cut it.

The end.

P.S:
After delivering the baby, The one returnerd so fat that the Kind got her
thrown into the river. The king one day came to know about the farmers
beautiful daughter and married her. He made her his queen soon.
Moby dick, after his cock was cut, some how managed to survive.
People called him later, just Moby.
He bragged for the rest of his life that The Queen fucked him once, thrice.

The Story of Moby Dick
Everybody is looking for something

Farmer cried.

Saint smiled and gave some water from his kamandalam to the farmer and
said, Here son, sprinkle this sacred water on your field. Your problems will be solved.

Farmer did so. With in one moon month the farm bloomed.
Not with corns but cocks.

Horny daughter

She had her full grown boobs at the age of twelve. Ever since one thing she
wanted to have was sex. But her father was too poor for her to properly dress
and attend school. She stayed home all year and helped her father.

She desperately wanted her father to make money. With that money, she
thought, either he would marry her to a man, or she would buy some fine
slaves, with who she could have unlimited sex.

But the crop failed that year too. But then, her father sprinkled some magic
water on the crop. And then, it bloomed into a field of cocks.

From her window she had a full view of the field. She noticed that cocks stood
erect early in the morning before the first ray of sun fell on them.

For two weeks she got wet looking at that view. On the first day of the
third week, she couldnt resist anymore and fucked a cock.

She ended up in waves of orgasm and then the cock suddenly turned into a
huge watermelon. That was the biggest watermelon she had ever seen. She
tasted it little and it tasted fantastic.

She dutifully reported the whole incident to her father. Her father gifted that
watermelon to the king. The king rewarded him handsomely.

Moby Dick

Moby always wanted to have sex with Horny. But she quit school when she
was ten. She had the biggest boobs in the whole school then. Moby knew she
was the daughter of the poor farmer. Moby always looked for her while
passing their farm to his school. Every year horny grew into luscious desire.

Just like every year, he observed that the poor farmers farm didnt show any
signs of healthy corns. But then, he saw the farmer sprinkling some water in
the field. With in one moon month, he saw the farm blooming into strange
looking fruits, which he embarrassingly admitted to himself looked like his
own cock multiplied.

Moby also observed little changes appearing in the farmers house. Every
afternoon the farmer was taking a huge water melon to the king and coming
with loads of food and articles purchased in the big bazaar to the home.
With in weeks, the farmers house filled with food. Farmers family started
wearing new clothes and his wife even purchased some new jewellery.

Moby got curious and stayed at the field that night.

Hmm..I know how this story is going to end. I can tell. Can I? Can I?
Dude, comeon, I cant wait to whats going happen in the field tonight.
I still have suspicion this is linked to 'The One'.

read next...

The Story of Moby Dick
Sweet dreams are made of these

Smiley's Short Stories Dept

In association with

Smiley's Dirty Jokes Dept

Presents

The story of Moby Dick
Travel the world and seven seas

The king

Once upon a time there was a king. He had, like, seven wives. But he loved only one of them. He made love only to that one. That one, on one fine day got pregnant. According to the customs of the kingdom, she was sent to her mom's place for delivery during her sixth month.

King got lonely and gloomy. He couldn’t make love to the other wives. King loved that one so much.

One fine evening, the King stood on his fort and looked at the river flowing by. It made him remember his dear wife. In longing, he started masturbating. His sperm ejaculated with such a velocity and force that it flew for two days, traveled seven seas and fell into the Kamandalam of a great saint.

The saint

Every one revered the saint. He rarely listened to people. But when he listened, he listened and offered solutions. People would just stand in queues for days and for weeks and for months and some, for years, waiting to get the attention of the great saint.

Saint chose people in no particular order or pattern. Saint always stayed still with his eyes closed and uttering neti, neti. (It is not, it is not). Not even his closest pupil knew what was not.

The poor farmer, his ugly wife and their horny daughter

The poor farmer was the unluckiest soul he ever knew. He got married to an ugly and thankless wife during his childhood. He farmed whatever his father left him. It was always either a calamity or huge fluctuations in the market price that ruined him.

That year he put every thing he had into his corn field. Every one else bloomed. His didn't. Bad seeds, they said. Farmer had no other opportunity but commit suicide. But for the responsibility to get his beautiful and horny daughter married, he would have done so.

That day, poor that he was, the farmer, approached the saint.

That day, pious that he was, the saint, opened his eyes and looked at the farmer.

Hmm..I see where it is going. But who is Moby Dick?
Horny and beautiful? I want to know more about her.
Hey, I bet its something to do with 'The One'.

read next..

The Story of Moby Dick
Everybody is looking for something

The spirit of Mumbai

For my inflight reading I bought this book titled
The power of your subconscious mind. Its a cheesy book.

I made a call to Leela the moment I got out of the flight.
Take a ric, come to Carona hospital. She told.
I took a ric.
Carona hospital turned out to be karuna hospital.

I called Leela. She came out and waved. She looked beautiful,
beaten and tired.

They are not letting any visitors now.I will take you home.
My home is nearby. She said.

She introduced me to her Tom at the entrance. Tom salivated on my
new Lee cooper shoes. I left the shoes at the door, threw a little
prayer for them and went inside.

Mom, he is Smiley. Aunt he is Smiley. Dad he is Smiley. She introduced.
Her dad never looked up from the Times of India. A little later Leela's
brother came and said, Hey you must be Smiley. I said, Hey you must
be the little brother shadowed by a talented sister-who finally fought
his way to win an Abby.

Yeah.

I sat next to Leela's dad. After a while Dad finished reading his news
paper. I handed over him the Bombay times edition. He looked a little
startled. Who are you? He asked. I am your paper boy. I answered.
Thanks, but I dont read the Bombay times. He said.

The family was busy talking about taking a second opinion on Preeti's
brain condition. I looked around. Pictures of Preeti and her daughter
Alison stood out. There was this picture of Leela and Preeti when they
were kids.

For a moment I fell in love with Preeti. She looked so cheery with her
daughter on her back. For a moment my heart melted.

Her mom made me some drink and apologized for not paying much attention
to me. I am fine. I said. I would like to let you know that Preeti is in
my prayers and my Master Chief's prayers.

Thank you. She said. And can you keep your shoes inside? Tom is getting
excited. She added.

I asked Leela's brother to show his work. He did. Leela couldnt resist and
showed me her stuff too. Her mom fetched me a local newspaper and proudly
showed me a news article on her son.

Leela's dad started rereading the newspaper. This time he started making
some notes. Mom apologized again for not offering any food and excused
herself to the hospital. Leela and I walked down to a nearby food joint.
(Anytime you are dining with Leela, you should prepare yourself for a
dish of Prawns. She will end up ordering a prawn fry after carefully
going through the entire menu.)

So whats up? I asked.
She started telling me. I am not sure if I listened to her. I just
watched her sharing the trauma. The mid day hot and humid Mumbai
air never stopped playing with her curly hair. I was amazed by the strength
and objectivity she showed.

Fortunately or unfortunately I had close encounters with a situation like
this in my past. I can understand the kind of pain and stress one has to
endure in situations like these.

I understood the deal. She is prepared. She is not hoping for what 'she
thinks is the best thing to happen'. She is doing whatever she can do.
She is hoping that that would turn out to be the best for Preeti.

Afternoon shifts are Leela's. I offered my company. Leela's aunt hinted
me that I have to sneak past the stairs, because they are not letting
any visitors. With Leela's help I did. She had to visit the HOD and
at the same time relieve her mom from the morning shift.

Hey, can you go upstairs, tell my mom to go home and be at the ICU till
I finish my work with HOD? She asked.

I can. I went upstairs and told her mom that she can go home and that
I can take care of that ICU stuff. She was embarrassed. What about you?
Did you have lunch? She asked. I had. Dont worry. Take your time. I said.

She left. I sat there and stared at the iron doors of ICU for sometime.
Then I slowly drifted into a nap. Leela woke me up.

We sat there for a long time. I listened to her empathetically. All these
prayers. Something has to happen. She said after a while.

Around three o clock, Leela said she has some work downstairs and asked
me to continue the vigil at the ICU. In about five minutes a nurse emerged
from the ICU.

Preeti. She shouted. Who is for Preeti here? She shouted again.
Me. I said.
She gave me a receipt, a request for three bottles of blood to the local
blood bank and a sample of blood for cross matching.

I was not very sure. I stared at Preeti's blood for a long time. She is
still fighting. I wished that prayer stuff Leela told me is true.
I wished Preeti's blood all the best.

I called Leela and told her about the blood requirement. She called
her brother. Her brother took the note. We need the blood by four.
The nurse declared. Her brother started running.

This tiny little family against a monstrous set up of Mumbai is struggling
to undo the chance event that topsy turvyed their life as they knew it.

This effort of theirs is illogical, instinctive and beautiful.

For some really strange reason they suddenly let Leela inside the ICU.
Smiley, come in, say hi to Preeti. Leela said.
I obliged.

I met Preeti at a lunch before. On the hospital bed she looked much
younger. She has a pretty face. She was serene and almost smiling.
But her skin showed all the symptoms of the fight going on internally.
The kind of pain she must have endured in the last four to six weeks is
simply mind numbing.

Leela put a hand on her sister and whispered in her ear.
Preeti, you are doing well today. Doctors are finally positive.
Your kidneys have started functioning a bit. Your blood pressure
is normal and I am so glad you didnt give up. Keep up the fight.

Preeti's eyes moved under eyelids. In a way, it was almost like
she was responding to Leela.

Hey, look who is here. Smiley. Remember him? We had lunch together
at your office.

I swore to myself that I saw her smiling a bit. A tiny winy bit.

Hi Preeti. Its me. Smiley. I have a confession to make. It was me who
stole your gulab jamun that day.

We walked out. I was still numb from what I saw.
My respect for Leela and her family quantumed.

Leela, I know I can do very little and whatever I am gonna say
is only going to sound cliched. Still. Be brave. Stay float.
You have done a great job. Be proud of it.

Smiley, thanks for coming. Did you really steal her gulab jamun that
day?

What are friends for? Tell Preethi that I will be more than happy to
pay her gulab jamun back. Take care.

On the return flight, I read a couple of chapters of The Power of
your subconscious mind.

This dude is right. There is still hope.

Role of Media

On day two, at Young Indians summit, there was this session called
Role of Media in Transforming India. Very interesting session.
I was looking forward to Tarun Tejpal's (Editor,Tehelka)
take. Tarun wore a Denim and Cotton and looked at ease. On the
other side was NKRam, (Editor, The Hindu), stiff upper lipped and
dark suited.

I read a lot about NKRam in the columns of Varsha, Francoise and
Rajeev. He is a classic Nehruvian socialist according to them.Two
good looking NRI babes were on the dias too. (YI has this policy
of 'Equal gender participation').

Tarun started his speech in a strange accent. Its a kind of British
mix with Northern (Very Hindiish) India. Tarun went on stressing the
importance of the role of Media, especially in a democracy, especially
in a corrupted country like India, especially in an emerging nation
like India. He informed how he and his team sacrificed their lives in
bringing the ugly truth out about the Indian defence deals. He said the
ideal role of media is to act as a check for this function called
democracy. Then Tarun started an attack on a big media house.
(Times of India, of course, every one knows it).

He informed us, how a news paper should not survive on Ad revenue
alone, how a news paper should not concentrate just on circulation
(which in turn is a consequence of depending on Ad revenue) alone,
how a newspaper should not concentrate on popular news alone (which
in turn is a consequence of looking for more circulation).

He thundered that we Indians are cheap. We spend hundreds of rupees
on movie tickets but are not willing to pay another buck for quality
reporting.

Two things struck me. I am sure Tarun is a well read man.

Concept of free market. Indian Psyche still lives in socialist era.
Every one is telling everyone how it should be like and what it should be
like. The government, the media and the leaders. (Ok, lets not even
step into Vivek Oberai's upcoming model village in Tamil Nadu).

The simple fact of life is, what is good for you is bad for someone.
Free power to farmers is good for poor farmers, bad for the power
sector and the economy. Censorship is good in the short run, very
bad in the long run.

Deciding the right content of a newspaper and right price
of a news paper is not for individuals. It is a dynamic evolution from
the market. Market decides it. Not you Mr Tarun.

Respecting other people's choice and taste. Why is someone who
reads Page 3 of TOI inferior to someone who can finish the crosswords in
The Hindu? That is another Indian signature. This is right and that
is wrong.

Another fact of life is, ultimately, it all boils down to profitability.
Media needs funds needs profits needs circulation/viewership/readership.

Now, what is circulation? It is the choice of the market.Dont argue with
it. Go with it. Otherwise you are doomed. The world has seen too many
of you.

On the other hand, NK Ram elegantly (read: Lots of vocabulary, that
half the people sitting there will never understand and never find
any usage.) expressed the role of The Hindu in reporting the charge
sheets on Kanchi peetathipathi dude, communal riots of 1983, recent
Gujarat riots. He informed us how Hindu fought with the system to
fight for the cause of equality and diversity. He deplored the heinous
hindu caste system, flesh selling news papers and supported women
reservation bill.

He agreed with Tarun on newspaper pricing. He told news should be
responsible and not popular.

What I read about this guy is all true. There was no need to mention Gujarat
riots and the arrest of the leader of a Hindu math. How come newspapers
never mention (especially the socialist types) what started Gujarat riots,
what started operation blue star, what started the exodus of Pundits from
kashmir and heinous purchase of human beings into a certain religion type
aka mass conversions into Christianity in the states of Assam, Andhra pradesh
and Tamil Nadu?

At the end of speech, there was a question hour. Lots of schools (from all
over India) sent their kids to this summit. They are all teens. One teenage
girl in a neatly pressed suit from Delhi raised her hand.

This question is for both Tarun and Ram, on the day Sania mirza entered
round two at so and so Tennis tournament there was also this teenage guy
from a poor family from south who won an international chess title at
Sri Lanka.

Both of you ignored the chess dude and printed Sania in full color on the
front page for entering round 2. Can you explain.?

There was pindrop (an Indian slang) silence on the dias. Later Ram explained
why Sania is a symbol of new emerging Indian confidence. Tarun simply
said that Sania sells.

Tarun's reply was atleast honest and pretty much summarized the role of the
media.

The role of media in a free society is not to shape it but to report it.

Thanks teenie. I lacked the balls to raise my hand.

Later on the NRI babes told everyone how they are trying to teach women
in rural India (Anantapur District, Andhra Pradesh) how to use computers.

Yeah, sure.

Mini Break

Coming soon (somewhere in the months of May and June)

Vipassana Chronicles IV & V
The story of moby dick I & II
Sivamma

For now, I am either running out of juices or being too busy with my
personal and professional life.

I love you.

Love (lack of)

In ecstasy the heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive.

Alexander Pushkin

Although I hide it
My love shows in my face
So plainly that he asks me,
"Are you thinking of something?"

Taira no Kanemori

Covenants are killed
and Halo is Destroyed.
The world is saved.

Through it, the
Master Chief silently
ate the loneliness and
burned a hole in his heart.
Its a hush hush now that he
is a rebel at Spartan 117.

All that the mighty Chief
asked for is a little love,
a little sun shine and
a companion. So far, he
got none.

Smiley

Couple of weeks

Lots of stuff I wanted to write but ended up not writing.

Feb 24-27: I attended a summit in Bangalore called ‘Young Indians’ Summit
organized by CII ( Confederation of Indian Industries). The Chief Mentor of
CII made every one (seven hundred of us, entrepreneurs, defense men,
professionals, heads and elected members) of us to hold the hands of the ones
sitting next and make a pledge,Together we will transform India.

The summit was basically a get together for like minded ones. The attendees
were a lot of 'who is who' from different fields. The presentations were eye
openers and the questions asked were smart. I felt a tinge of pride
(about myself) for whatever difference I tried to make, despite all the odds.
At the end of the summit I got a little emotional and in my return journey
I thought of a post called The Great Indian Journey.

Mar 2: We had a monthly sales meet and later decided to exit from couple of
products. One of them a highly 'concept oriented' and a 'socially responsible'
and 'environmental friendly' product. Around twelve months back I had put
my heart and soul into this product. I had the rare opportunity to meet the
inventor (?) of the product, a Japanese professor (a Mr. Higa) and wanted to
truly transform India. How we failed is a typical 'Only in India' case study.
It was a painful and at the end an absolutely hilarious journey. I thought of
doing a post about called 'A pig ate our project'. It was an interesting
journey. This product took me to the gullies of Calcutta to dumps of twin
cities to the fresh water aqua culture in Goa to the highlands in Lunavala to the
ministers of the state to the Pune Municipal corporation.

Mar 3: A loan from a bank for which we fought with red tape for four long
months got finally sanctioned. The ifs and buts and the cheats and tricks
were truly amazing. It was a marvelous insight into what we regularly term
as 'The System'. ue to obvious concerns I cant comment much on it, but
wanted to do a post called 'The Great Indian Bank trick'.

Mar 5,6: I finally got myself an apartment. The next day I bought so much
stuff that my wallet and all my bank accounts are exhausted. The good thing
about the whole thing was all the decisions were made in a 'Blink'.
Here is the stuff I bought in a span of 24 hours.

• HPPocketPC h6365
• LG 44" Projection TV
• Onkyo 5.1 speaker surround sound system.
• LG DVD Player
• LG amplifier
• Micorwave oven
• Refrigerator
• A Kurl on deluxe bed
• A cot.

Still pending:

• Two bean bags
• One recliner
• A nice DVD collection
• A girl friend
  

Mar 7,8: A close friend of mine met with a deadly accident. (A head on collision
in the early hours. He started early because he learned that his grand father
expired. So he started off to his native). His kid and cousins ended up with
bloody heads and he ended up with a broken rib and a trashed car. The whole
day was just that. The kid was a little shocked and never stopped crying. They
gave him anesthesia to get a proper head scan. Later they put him under
observation. (plugs attached to the body and mask to the head). When I went
to visit the kid, the kid was in a playful mood. He started shooting me with the
electrode attached to his index finger. I, ofcourse, chose to fall down instead
of dodging and shooting back.
At the end of the day I got a call that my grandma expired. I started off
immdediately to my native. I am just back this morning. My grandma is
legendary stuff (truly). She is simply larger than life in her region. She died a
peaceful (slightly pitiable) death. Large crowds and adulation were norm to her.
She faced every fathomable obstacle. We family together mourned. It was a
good experience(?). Ideologically we differed. But I always had respect for her.
She always treated me a little special. Used to address me as 'Little Krishna'. In
the train, while coming back, obviously I entertained the train of thoughts
about death and life. I wanted to do posts called 'Celebration of life' and
'The art of giving'.

Sweetie Leela, can you freelance for me from Dubai? I need to get all this stuff
out of my head.

Ghost busters

Its quiet hot in here, my brother-in-law Bil suddenly announced.
Yeah I know, I said wiping my forehead with my palm.
We are dead tonight. Bil.

I vacated my apartment in Hyderabad and I am still in a look outmode.
On my sister Sim's inviation I agreed to stay with them in the tween.

Lets sleep upstairs on the top tonight. Bil Said.
Who is going to carry the mats, blankets, pillows and bedsheets?
Who is going to bring them down in the morning. You never help me.
I am not coming. Sim announced. Besides, Smiley is been running a
running nose. I dont want him to sleep outdoors. She added.

That statement hurt two egos.

I will carry everything. I will even spread the blankets and makebeds for you. Bil said.
What cold? What mist? You think some mist is gonna do some harm to me?
Give me a break. I said.

Cut to:

Bil and I marveled all the stars and the shining moon in the sky. We lectured
Sim that we have been missing nature by staying inside our little concrete rooms.

Mosquitoes? Sim.
Mosquitoes? With this kind of breeze they dont have a chance. Besides they
are so used to looking out for humans inside their homes. They are not smart
enough to come upstairs. Bil.
Mosquitoes? They are part of nature. You have to accept them.I dont know
about you but mosquito bites never hurt me.Smiley.

Dust and pollution? Sim. (The building is adorned on three of its sides with
roads with full traffic).
Dust? What do you think? You think we breath different air when we stay
inside the house? Its the same air. Actually I read somewhere (which means
he is faking it) that the air inside our house is more polluted with all the dead
skin cells and stuff. Bil.
Dust? Thats your reality. Accept it. Surrender yourself to your reality and your
consciousness will break free. Besides I like inhaling dust filled air.Smiley.

Rain? Sim.
Rain? Ha! Smiley how did I ever marry this dumb chick? Sim, dont you watch
TV? There is no rain for the next few years. There is something called 'Nil Eno'.
Thats the new weather trend. It basically means 'No rain' in Spanish. Bil.
And Smiley, you dont have to answer this question. Bil.
Aye Bil.Smiley.

Nature Calls? Sim.
Bah. Bil.
Boo. Smiley.

Robbery and break ins? Sim.
Boo. Bil.
Bah. Smiley.

Sim tossed around for a while and finally couldnt stand and left.
Women! Smiley.
Yeah. They live in their comfort zones. Cant experiment. Cant differentiate.Dumb. Bil.
Sim handed over her rug to Bil before leaving. You might need it. It gets real cold in the middle of night.
I dont need it. Bil.
I dont need it either. I dont know about you but I like it when its cold and when its moist.Smiley.

With in a few minutes a long cold breeze passed over us. We were tickled with delight.
Silly Sim. Never had it in her Karma. Bil.
We sighed in relief.

A drizzle of fine sand passed over us a minute later.
Achhoo. Achhoo. Thoo thoo. Thptrrr. Thptrrr.
What the fuck was that?
Yeah, fuck it.
We got up and made our beds again.

Then I slept. In the middle of the night, When I woke up Bil was looking into my face.
Did you by any chance bring a water bottle with you?
No.Didnt Sim?

Then I slept. When I woke up Bil was pacing around.
The moon. The moon. Its in my face. Its shining through.
We got up and threw the pillows onto the opposite side of the mat.

Then I slept. When I woke up Bil was killing mosquitoes.
Lucky you. You covered yourself with that blanket. I cant sleep with a blanket
covering my face.
They will go away, just wait for the breeze.By then it was considerably cool and
my nose was blocked.

Then I slipped into a dreamland. When I woke up four mosquitoes were
sucking blood from my forehead and Bil was giving taeKwando kicks to some
invisible ones.

Then I slipped into a dreamland and had a dream. I was hiding inside a big
refrigerator. A monster was waiting patiently outside. All Iwanted to do was pee.

When I woke up Bil looked like a shivering ghost. The other side of my blanked
was close to wet. The bed was ice cold.

We are dead tonight.
Yeah I know.

Cut to:

Knock, Knock.

Sim, like she knew it, was sleeping in the hall, without even opening her eyes,
just opened the door for us walked back to her bed.

We were concerned you would be scared. Bil.
Yeah, you can feel safe now. We are back. Smiley.

Bil, I kept a water bottle for you, right next to your bed.
Smiley, ...and 'dont flush'. The commode is still under repair.
Good night. She added.

On that night, two, big, hairy chested men did exactly as they were told,
retired to their beds holding on to their favourite pillow and secretly
admired silly Sim.

Cagle@Slate@MSN

I found this blog by accident and absolutely loved.
Its a part of Slate. Cagle did a marvelous job of assembling
an amazing variety (and practically unlimited number) of cartoons
at one place.

Four Books, Four Movies and lots of blogs

Finished reading

State Of Fear ***
Siddhartha *****

Just in

The Tipping Point
The 8th Habit

Recently Saw

Swades **
The Polar Express (IMAX 3D) ****
Kill Bill Vol.2 ****
Nuvvostanante Nenoddantaana *****

Recently Discovered Blogs(Not work Safe)

Attu Sees All ****
Fark ***
ErosBlog ****
Met Art *****
Fleshbot *****
Slate *****
Sexylosers ****

Blog News
You read it first

Babita added a cutie to her family.
Congrats mom!
(http://neverbeenbetter.rediffblogs.com)

Babita sent me a picture of the little one, and guess
what the little one was wearing in the pic?
A black belt.
Like mom. Like daughter. :-)
(Babita is a six sigma black belt holder).

Leela is leaving
Congrats baby!
(http://absolutelee.rediffblogs.com)

Leela was offered a paycheck as fat as JLo's butt by an
anonymous sheik. Leela couldnt resist. (Keeping in
JLo's butt in mind, I can understand the temptation).

She is leaving to Dubai. :-(

Leela baby, go kick a butt. (Preferably, JLo's)
(Thanks for all those Mad comics and other books.
I have donated the comics to The Tsunami Relief Fund.)

Patrix is pregnant
Congrats dude!
(http://ipatrix.com)

After the 'I have a third nipple' episode, Patrix had to visit the emergency
room again for 'Everything tastes funny', 'I cant see my dick anymore',
'I am tired', 'I am missing my periods', 'I puked No2 Cheese burger
and ate all the salad' and 'The chicken I ate yesterday is still alive' episodes.
The hot Iranian emergency ward specialist confirmed that Patrix is
pregnant.

Scifaiku

Timetravel is forbidden.
But kids
do it anyway.

Eva Eriksson

You can read more Sci Fi Haikus at
Scifaiku.com

Interesting Flash Cartoons at
Campchaos.com

Bodi, Turture and a bloody cock

Last week I was on a vacation.I was back at my village.
Going there always had been a time travel for me.

Everything slows down in my village. That includes time
and mind.

I was surprised to know how much I am a part of that place,
in the lives of the people and their memories.

I have been hibernating and didnt meet most of people in the
last several years.

They all still remember a lot about me.

They are still unconditional when it comes to love.

Some highlights:

1) I once fell in love with our village barber's daughter.
Her name is Bodi.(I think I am still in love with her.
I think after Thrisha, she is the most beautiful girl God
ever made). She is not around anymore. Someone told me that
she was sold to some Dubai guy. My heart broke. Luckily for
me, I met my village Dhobi's daughter on the last day and
fell in love with her.

2) My cousin has a five year old kid. He cant say 'ra'.
He instead says 'la'. Lets call him La Kid. Another cousin of
mine has another er..a kid too. He cant say 'ka'. Instead
he says 'ta'. Lets call him Ta Kid. Unfortunately my real name
contains both ra and ka in it. So, it was fun with them.

I played cricket with these two kids. After I won (duh) the
game,

:-) : Ok kids, smiley is in a mood to treat. Tell me what you
want.

Ta Kid: I want Turture.
La Kid: Me too. Me too. Tultule. Tultule.
Ta kid: Yeehey. Turture. Turture.

:-) : ??? Dudes. What is this Turture stuff?

After five minutes of exhaustive deciphering and with the help of
Ta Kid's mom I realized that Ta Kid was asking for a silly snack
called 'Kurkure'.

3) My village is famous for cock fights. (Opp to hen). This time
one of those Nehruvian, socialist, secular, progressive, animal
loverist SP (Police) ordered a strict ban on the fights.

Everyone who knows the history of Andhras know that we love these
fights. Actually two of the famous battles in our history were
over these fights. (Bebbuli and Palnati). Everyone who anything
about our community knows that we love our vices.

My father's elder brother has more than five dozen cocks. (Ok,
girls, stop drooling). He was enraged. The president of the village
was enraged. Three of the local MLAs are his best buddies.

That night he met them. They decided to go ahead and conduct these
fights, no matter what. SP warned. He increased the basti.

One of the MLAs is pretty close to the home minister. MLA informed
the minister that he would rather get arrested than die an
infamous death in this region.

Home called SP. SP said fuck off. So for the first time in its history
my village slept without seeing the fights on sankrati. I slept
without eating that mother of all 'pandem kodi chicken biryani'.

Home minister called the CM next day. CM got a clear message. Either
you let our cocks fight or we let you down in the upcoming elections.

CM said, what the fuck man? Let those fucking cocks fight. Home minister
said, what the fuck is wrong with you SP? Let those cocks fight.
SP finally accepted a bribe of 5,00,000 (five lakhs), but still being
an animal lover, rested at home on a sick leave the next day.

And that day, my village celebrated. Blood spilled. Half of the
cocks died. Shit loads of Money changed hands. Gallons of alcohol
was consumed. Many of the lower caste virgin women were unvirgined.
Prostitutes danced. The local MLA and president were zindabaded
for keeping the tradition and gaurding the honour.

I had my share of chicken biryani. (Ok stop giving me that
Nehruvian, socialist, secular, progressive, I-hate-you-types look.)

Smiley’s Dirty Jokes Dept.

In association with

Smiley’s Short Story Dept.

Presents

Male Pride

Before kingdoms emerged and long before tribes were formed, there were
thick and deep tropical forests in southern India. There lived giant elephants
and tiny ants in harmony. Giant elephants had giant itchy butts. They loved
scratching their big butts against the trunks of big trees.

The Elephant



Elephant loved scratching its butt against trees. Ooomm, aaaah, uuufff.
She would go in pure bliss. But that day she got a little bit out of hand and
rocked the tree so hard that the beehive on the top of the tree fell right in
front of her.

The Bee



The bee worked hard all its life to make a decent living and settle down with
his favourite girl. He worked eighteen hours a day for two years and built the
beehive. He flew 24 hours a day for two weeks to attract his favourite girl.
When the girl fell, he made love to her for two consecutive days. She got
pregnant and filled beehive with little bee kids.

That day a fat elephant with an itchy butt scratched a little hard and killed his
whole family. So the bee leapt for the butt and stung it so hard that it got locked
into the pachyderm. It kept on stinging.

The Bird



The bird had been curious about everything right from its childhood.
It always woke up early and ate its worms early. It always flew into the
unexplored territories and always stood first in trying out new things
and new styles and new combinations.

That day it saw an elephant running wild with a red butt. It got curious and
flew near the butt and took a closer look. What he found was a bee stinging
the butt so hard that the elephant was crying puddles and pools.

So it asked the elephant,
Sweetie, whats wrong?

The elephant said,
Please get rid of that bee. I will do whatever you want me to do.
Sure deal sweetie.
The bird in one swift move plucked the bee deep from the butt and ate it.

The elephant got so relieved that it licked the bird and said
Now tell me, Oh the one who flies, what is that you want?
Oh the one with big butt, I always wanted to fuck an elephant, doggie style.

The elephant thought on it for a while. She was a virgin. But whats a little birds
tiny prick gonna make any difference. She thought.

She lifted her tail and let the bird in.

The Monkey



Monkey right from his childhood was never satisfied with whatever he had.
He always wanted to have more and exotic. He ditched his loyal wife and
loving kids and stayed alone a tall coconut tree just because they got boring.

That day a strange thing happened. A big elephant stopped under the tree and
a tiny bird started fucking the elephant from behind. The monkey got such a
huge hard on that it started masturbating.

As the birds movements got faster so did the monkey’s hand. The elephant
was grazing.

The Pride

Oooh. Oooooooh. Oooooooooooooooh.

The bird started hitting harder and harder.
The monkey got shafter and shafter.
In the frenzy monkeys hand hit a coconut.
Coconut straight down fell on elephant’s head with a huge thump.
Elephant shouted so loud that the whole jungle heard it.
OUCH.

The bird oblivious to what happened stopped fucking, opened its eyes and
from the behind shouted towards the elephants ear
Oops. Did it hurt dear?

nonick

Nonick is real. Nonick is no ghost. Nonick isnt me.
(Sorry Fairy dear). I am lucky to have readers like the
readers I have.

Because they made it fun to read and post. (Most of the time
my posts suck. But my comment box always lived up.)

I am glad to inroduce nonick to you. She (surprise!) has a blog too.
(She writes poems and stuff). http://whthehell.blogspot.com/
...another of life's mysteries solved.

The only mystery I am (Fairy is) left with is

who is nonickers?

Day 3
A few more little people.

I called them dudes. There were several of them in my mind. The most
significant of them were

ToDoDude
LookAheadDude
WorstCaseScenarioDude

The discovery of each individual dude was an Aha! Moment.
I didn’t regret them. Instead I looked them the way Snow White would
look at the dwarfs.

I realized that each one of the little dudes had responsible roles. They were just
performing their duty. Like life, thought fights for dominance too. Thought
tries to proliferate too. The dominant and winning thought defines our mood,
decision, personality, happiness or sorrow at any given moment.

In my case I realized that around 60-80% of my back ground buzz in my mind
on a day to day basis is due to these three little dudes.

ToDoDude: He is the one who listed all the To Dos which LookAheadDude
runs through every now and then. (The more complex your ToDo is the more
worried is LookAheadDude and more often he run through them.)

LookAheadDude: Dude, Dude, by 11:00 we have to finish this and have
lunch. Yeah, lets cut down on rice this afternoon and hit on rotis. That makes
us less sleepy in the afternoon session. Btw, have you seen that
TooDeterminedDude ? He had eight rotis yesterday. Man! Then take a nap.
Oh by the way, we have to check the laundry on our way. Get back to
meditation from 1:00 and 2:30. Oh yeah, I have to pick medicine for cold at
the counter at five. Yeah take a bath at 5:15. Let us better be there by that
time. Otherwise we wont get hot water. Hmm, back to meditation by 6:00.
I wonder what discourse do we have this evening. After the discourse,
go to bed. Lets make sure we sleep before the snoring dudes start their
snoring.

WorstCaseScenarioDude: At one time I was fantasizing a cruise from
Australia to somewhere. At midnight after making love to all the two dozen
Australian chicks on board I went to deck and started peeing in the sea. I
was mesmerized with the reflections of the moon in the sea while peeing into
it. Then WorstCaseScenarioDude created this great white shark which leaped
out of the water and snacked my dick. At another time, I was fantasizing sex
with a stranger in the New York subway and WorstCaseScenarioDude
mentioned AIDS and neither of us were carrying condoms.

At another time, I dreamed of merging my current startup with an
established firm and taking it to public, then Manmohan Singh died and stock
market crashed. When I swam, he increased the depth. When I took a flight,
he failed an engine. When I met my dream girl, he created a cage. When I
worked harder for greater success, he created ill health and failure. When I
trusted someone he made them backstab me. When I took my girlfriend to a
lonely ranch, he created a serial killer. I was amazed at how unaware of this
dude all the while.

(Later, it is this WorstCaseScenatioDude who helped me find my
‘Origin of Fear’.)

I should say, I was very successful in merely observing all these emotions
instead of identifying with them. I should also say that it kind of made me
feel good.

Continued…
Ok, you have little people in your mind. What else?
Can we skip like, to Day 10? Thanks in advance.
Hmm..once again, there is no blue font! Is it going to come back?
I heard of stuff like Adistana, Craving and Aversion before. What about that?

Day 4
The Art Of Women

Breakfast Log

Bhoot

Yesterday I attended a party (a friend's brithday) thrown
at Ram Gopal Varma's guest house. Its located in an almost
jungle like location not far from Hyderabad.

He made a Telugu movie long back (Deyyam) which was entirely
picturized at that guest house. Spooky dude he is. I got
totally spooked out while reaching there. I was alone and
it was pitch dark. The road barely existed. I didnt know the
directions and my cell was Out Of Coverage Area. :-)

Adding to it, in the middle of the night, power went off.
:-). Hmm..what did I have? Two pegs of Red Label, prawn
biryani, mutton curry, chicken fry, crab fry and fish fry.


DPS MMS

Like I mentioned at Fairy's blog before, we shouldnt be discussing
the moral aspects of two teenagers having sex at school. But law
and press should devote their energies in punishing the poeple who
are circulating this MMS. I did what I could by refusing to watch
the clip.

I am glad to know that finally the 'circulators' are being noticed.
(One IITian and CEO of Bazee.com). Even the teenager is being
presented at the juvenile court today.

Bad Sex Award

Tom Wolfe won this year's the British prize for
bad sex in fiction.

This is the stuff that won the award for him

"Slither slither slither slither went the tongue," one of his winning sentences
begins. "But the hand that was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand,
since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the
otorhinolaryngological caverns -- oh God, it was not just at the border where
the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest -- no, the hand
was cupping her entire right -- Now!"

Link

How Mac was made

One of the tech's all time favourite stories is back again.
I should say, this time it got better. (For all those who
read Pepsi to Apple and thought they knew everything about
Mac -- No we dint get most of it from Scully).

Oreilly did a book on that and its available in the market now.
(Patrix, now you know your weekend read)



For all of us Non American Residents, most of the book is avaialble
in the form of stories for free at http://folklore.org

One of my favourite stories is Reality Distortion

Scarab Beetle



Link

Day 2
Your mind wanders. Smile.

Dont feel bad for not being able to concentrate on your breath.
Your mind wanders.
Accept the fact that your mind wandered.
With a smile, bring its attention back to your breath.

Observing your breath is as simple a task can get. Thats what any one would
think. But the thing is, your mind doesnt really like doing the task on hand.
It always wanders.

The more it wanders the more frustrating it gets.

The same instructions were repeated several times.

Soon by the afternoon, I saw a pattern. By that evening, in one of those aha! moments, the pattern became a map. The moment it became a map, it became much more clear.

It was an elating moment.

My mind revealed itself. It suddenly gave me an perspective that was very
objective. Every emotion, every thought, suddently fell into a precharted territory.




Soon I realized that the vast thought process I thought I possessed is actually
an implementation of very few interfaces. (Pardon the language). In other
words, every thought had a pattern. It neatly fell into a zone.
The zones were surprisingly few.

Each zone is an escape channel to avoid NOW.

So what happened to the blue font?
Ok, you got a map. So what?
Hmm...who are these little people?
Come on hurry up dude.
continued..
Day 3
A few important little people

Day 1
Observe it; accept it, as it is.

Observe your breath. Dont regulate it. Just observe your normal, natural breath.

If it is warm, then it is warm.
If it is cold, then it is cold.
If it is shallow, then it is shallow.
If it is deep, then it is deep.
If it is hard, then it is hard.
If it is soft, then it is soft.
If it is fast, then it is fast.
If it is slow, then it is slow.

Observe it, as it is. Accept whatever is real, as it is.

From:
04:30 to 06:30 AM
08:00 to 11:00 AM
01:00 to 05:00 PM
06:00 to 07:00 PM
08:30 to 09:00 PM.


The duality of my mind fascinated me when I was in the final year of my college. I asked this question several of my friends.

Lets take for example, preparing for the exams. Our mind perfectly understands the benefits of preparing for the exams, passing the exams, getting good percentages and the benefits we reap on them. Our mind actually visualizes us sitting through the exams, acing the exams and being praised by parents, friends and relatives. Our mind motivates us to set higher goals, prepare plans and gather material to start preparation. Yet the same mind discourages you from going through this. It tells you to take a break, to go to a movie, to sleep early, to not to get up early etc and looks for instant gratification every moment.

This applies to every duality one usually faces like, smoking, drinking, eating, spending, working etc. Your mind perfectly understands the benefits of doing or not doing a task, yet the same mind totally discourages you from doint it or not doing it.

Why duality?

That question haunted me. Well after eighteen months, I found the answer, when I was least expecting it, in the book shelf of a friends uncle. The name of the book was
I'm Ok you're Ok.

The answer I was looking for lied in something called Transactional Analysis.
For the first time, that book made me think about my mind, its behavior patterns and its working patterns. For the first time, I realized how my past effects my future and how every decision I made in the past also has a heavy influence on the decisions I am making today.

That book gave me a huge intellectual satisfaction. No book ever satisfied me that much until then.

I found myself already in I’m OK and you’re OK zone. I felt glad about it.

Coming Next..
So, what do we get out of this observation?
Is this what you did for TEN days?
What does this blue font prose have to do with your Vipassana stuff?
Day 2
Your mind wanders. Smile.