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Puppy Love

There she was, not very neatly dressed, cowering over something or rather someone in her lap. ‘Must be her baby’, I thought. That was the only seat empty in the bus. I decided to grab it before anyone else rushed to stake their claim. I went and sat besides her, glancing casually at her baby. ‘What!’, I glanced again. Instead of a human form there, I saw something else. A little one nevertheless, albeit not of the human variety but of the canine! (no wonder the seat was empty!) She had a small little puppy in her lap and she was trying to make the puppy sip some water from a small ice cream cup. She held the pup carefully in her palm with its legs dangling out. The tiny little thing had the tiniest paws. They were about the same size as the lady’s thumb. I dont need to say anything about the Delhi heat. It speaks for itself. The pup was only too delighted to have something to drink. As I watched, the tiniest snout sniffed about and the teeniest weeniest tongue popped out to sip the water.

‘Aw.. li’l ones are always so cute, be it any species’, I pondered.

The lady seemed to be turning more and more onto one side (towards the window). She somehow blocked my view partially. I could not understand why she would sit in that crooked, discomforting position. It seemed as if she wanted to hide something. Umm.. could she be thinking that I and a couple of others who were watching intently would cast an evil eye (‘nazar lagana’) on the pup? Well, I wouldn’t blame her if she had that sentiment. In sometime she turned a little outwards and I could see her patting the pup gently. As the bus had reached my stop, I got off the bus with a big smile on my face.



You’ve got spam

If ever there was any four letter word that could be done without, it is SPAM. A total waste of everyone’s time, money, effort and bandwidth. Apart from the usual ones, this piece that I am writing is about something peculiar. I have known spam mails enough to know that no such googlish intelligence exists with them to send spam related to things that we write about in our mails. Forget urging you to do something, this one has crossed all limits and already *done* something!! I have been receiving spam from Shaadi.com since quite some time now, all urging me to use their services. I have been duly deleting those mails. I have an account on hotmail which was the first email account I ever had. Its my spam account. Whenever I have to give my mail id on the net, this is what I give. I still continue checking it coz I opened this account when I was in college and *all* my college friends somehow remember this mail id of mine. My irrepressible efforts to educate them about my new mail id’s have never borne fruit. For some reason everyone from college ‘remembers’ this id and straightaway uses it only.

So as I said, I had been diligently cleaning my account of all Shaadi.com mails, when one fine day I saw a couple of mails from Shaadi.com with various subjects. One of them read ‘your profile is being screened’. A later one read ‘your profile has been approved’. Yet another one – ‘Your profile has been activated’. More mails were all prospective hopefuls trying to get in touch with me!! I was shocked beyond my grey cells about the audacity of the shaadi.com chaps! For one, I dont share my passwords, so it wasnt someone’s prank. How dare they make a profile on my behalf and even *pretend* to approve it!
I wondered how they could have gathered so much data about me to even make a working profile which was getting responses! Even if they had used a bot, it would have to have a lot of intelligence.

I checked up the profile and this is what it said.

I am 23, single, Hindu female living in Maharashtra, India
>>> how did they ever guess that!! I never knew that I had a GPS device embedded and they had a tracking device!

My Basics
Age: 23

>>> am sure this will make age exaggerating 🙂 really jealous LOL
Marital Status : Never Married
Children : No
Height : 5′ 7″

>>> wow what a height!!

Complexion : Very Fair
Body Type : Slim
Manglik : No

My Education & Career

Education : Bachelors
Occupation : Designer

>>> just how did they know that this was what i wanted to be when i was a kid??

Annual Income : Rs.5,00,001 and above


My Lifestyle

Diet : Non-Veg
Drink : Occasionally
Smoke : No
My Religious & Social Background

Religion : Hindu
Caste : –
Sub-Caste : –
Mother Tongue : Bengali

>>> aami bengali nahi jaanee chhhe (whatever)

Family Values : Liberal


My Location

Current Residence : Maharashtra, India
Residency Status : Permanent Resident
Country Of Birth : India
Sun Sign : Capricorn

My Personality, Hobbies, Long-Term Goals, etc
i love reading, traveling, music, playing games, dancing, cooking, excursion, sleeping, singing. dynamic personality.


>>> basically generic hobbies.

i love to love.i hate to hate.
>>> err.. i cd have been a little more poetic than that!

i like to eat. i like to drink occasionally

>>> in other words, wow! what a profile!


Just what on earth gave them the right to impose themselves so much on anyone! Going by the text in the description, it doesnt look like an automated job. Or maybe they chose a standard text and made several profiles with that. Thank god they didnt morph some picture into anything resembling a female and upload it on my behalf! Am pretty darned sure the matches that came would have been some other spam created profiles, created like mine!



Facts stranger than fiction

Fact number 1

whiiiirrrrrr whiiiiirrrrr. (That’s my cell vibrating to indicate an incoming call). The CLI shows no number which is what happens generally with international calls.

Me thinks: Arrey! who is it remembering me after so long from pardes.. could be S, R, P …
Me says: Hullo!

Caller: Mein … (in a rather dramatic style).
Me thinks: oh!..so dramatic.. this could be only S (S is the only one who would do something like this.. slightly change his voice and start off in a dramatic way). Oh! the caller is introducing himself..

Caller: Mein….. Atal Behari Vajpayee bol raha hoon..

Me Thinks: Oh! so I am the chosen one this time! hmmm.. I think Shekhar Suman sounds better than him, himself!!

Mr. Prime Minister: Meine picchle paanch varshon mein kayee kaam..

Me does: The electronic equivalent of swatting a mosquito buzzing in your ear. Cut the damn call.

Mr. Prime Minister.. stop telling what all you have done. If you are really interested in calling me up, make the communication duplex. And to think abt the money that goes into all this faaltu propaganda.. couldn’t you have used it somewhere else? How about actually enhancing the communication infrastructure here, instead of clogging the already congested networks with your unsolicited calls. Have you forgotten the anti-spam laws that you laid down yourself? Or is the Prime minister pre-pardoned from all crimes like all other politicians?

Fact number 2

Scene buildup: I am totally kadka. I have to head for my optician and I know that it’s gonna burn a hole of at least 2K in my pocket. However it is necessary. I also have to drop in a cheque of my credit card payment for 3K. Since there’s hardly any money in my account and I have already issued a number of cheques, don’t know how much it leaves me with. I am driving and there’s no petrol in the car. My wallet also has barely 200-300 bucks.. out of which I decide to sacrifice 100 bucks at the petrol pump. I also need some cash to do more shopping this very month. This requirement’s the result of being born on the end of the financial year. (Yes, this is not a subtle hint but a very big one). In other words.. my monetary status would put paupers to shame.

I drive down to the petrol pump and instruct the attendant. Suddenly some chappie comes up and says a little apprehensively, ‘Excuse me Ma’m’.

Me says: Yes?

Chappie drawls: Ma’m … Could you do me a favour…

Me thinks: not another sales man.. i don’t want any credit card, insurance or any of those damn things.

Me says: what?

Chappie drawls: Ma’m…. actually I left my wallet at home in a hurry. And now I don’t have any money. Could you lend me some?

Me thinks: Don’t tell me!! Haven’t I heard this story already..(smirking internally).. How can ppl even *think* that this is gonna fetch them cash?

Me says: look, I hardly have any cash in my own wallet… am getting petrol filled for only 100 bucks!!

Chappie drawls: Please ma’m .. trust me.. I am a well educated guy from a good family. I am telling you the truth. Please help me ma’m. I am like your younger brother.

Me thinks: Yech.. that’s why god spared me any brothers.. esp the tight t-shirt wearing, ear pierced kinds..

Me says: look, why don’t you ask these petrol pump attendants? after all they have a lot of cash.

Chappie drawls: Ma’m their employer is not here.

Me argues: see, there’s some chap, he seems to be their boss, go ask him.

Chappie drawls: No ma’m I have already asked him. He’s not the employer. Please ma’m, you can keep my goggles, please give me your mobile number and address and I’ll return the money wherever you want.

Me thinks: beware of anyone who wants your details.. waise what could this guy’s thugging strategy be? Is he going to plant a heat seaking missile somehow? Is he going to misuse my cell number? I am not wearing any gold chain which he could snatch .. or does he have a camera somewhere and he’s from some stupid bakra copy show on some obscure channel..like alpha punjabi.. whatever..

Chappie drawls: Please ma’m.. I need just 50 bucks.

Me thinks: just 50.. hmmm.. mebbe he really needs it.. mebbe he *is* being honest.

(Hark back to an incident a couple of years back)

M and I are going some place in an auto. M is a simble zouthindeeyan (no not a mallu though) and is gulliblity personified. The auto stops at a crossing and suddenly some beggar women come and start wailing and screeching for money. They look quite healthy contradictory to their financial status. The story they tell us is that some female (in labour) is out on the road just about to give birth and they need some money urgently to get her to a hospital. I don’t buy that gibberish but M is totally taken by it. I warn him, but he brushes it off as one would an irritating fly. The strategy used by them, to bombard the unsuspecting citizen with the urgency of the situation and also the fact that the red (traffic) light is about to turn green, combined with the cacophony of ‘tumharee jodee banee rahe’ sentiments, probably flusters and numbs the mind of the most intelligent people and they give in, unable to handle so much. M starts pulling out a 20 Rupee note (something of great value to auto commuters). I again express that they are most likely fibbing and he needn’t be that philanthropic. But magnanimous as he is, he parts with it with glee.
The beggar women scurry away the moment they get their hands on the money. The light has already turned green and the auto driver continues. But the comment he made next is still clear and vivid in M’s memory. He said, ‘You shouldn’t have saab, this is their daily business. They loot so many passengers like this everyday’. Needless to say, I admonished that chap for not having said so a moment earlier. But at least after that M has had more reservations in these kinda situations.

(Hark back to reality)

I don’t want the same thing happening.

Me says: (to the petrol pump attendant, while the chappie has gone to borrow a pen) Does he come here everyday by chance, to ask for money?

Attendant: No, this is the first time I am seeing him, if you know him, give him the money else let it be.

Chappie drawls: Thank you very much ma’m. Yes ma’m. What is your number? I’ll return the money wherever you want it returned.

Me says: The number is 98XXXXXXXX.

Chappie: Your name.

Me says: Don’t bother with that. You have the number. I’ll just treat this as my good deed for the day in case you dont do what you are saying.

Chappie : (sensing my inhibition) You stay somewhere nearby?

Me says: Yes, somewhere nearby.

Chappie drawls: Thank you very much ma’m.

3 days pass and I keep oscillating between feeling foolish and feeling magnanimous ‘coz according to me, he seemed to be in need of money at that time. Eventually I forgot about it. Finally I got a call from an unknown number which turned out to be the chappie drawling again asking me where to return the sum. Whoa! So I was right! Trust is still alive!


What’s love got to do with it?

Do we really need a ‘Valentine day’ to express our love?

Anyhow, in keeping with the tradition I have these hearts floating on my blog now! Those who aren’t able to see it, please load the page in IE..
sorry couldn’t find a script which works in all browsers. This year being a leap year, girls get to propose! So love and let love …


The Delhi Blog Mob 3

New Delhi, 13 Jan

Delhi experienced its first Blog Mob today at TGIF, Vasant Vihar at around and after 4pm. This mob, which went on the lines of the latest fad – flash mobs, had several ppl of the blogging community from Delhi meeting up at a designated place and time, but unlike flash mobs, this one didn’t dissipate as fast (this mob kept waiting to be kicked out). It was organised by a series of people having a fetish for the letter ‘S’, namely Sandhya, Simple Simon, Sw Ne, and also Sakhi. Bloggers started trickling in at the decided time and took full advantage of the Happy Hours. When our correspondent reached the venue, she was greeted by a lively mob of around 15, who all wanted to meet the person with ‘music on her blog’. There were a few ppl coochie cooing in a corner and taking advantage of the smoke screen enveloping around them (a creation of their own incessant smoking) to do unimaginable things. Sw Ne was seen getting bubbly as she took in a lot of the same, it explained her amorous advances towards Khotta. Beauty certainly lies in the eyes of the be(er)holder, Kyonki Khotta certainly is no Depp and he was painfully reminded the same by all.

Lone Cypress was not so lonely since she had a date for the eve (wonder how she landed up with a China Man to get rid of her lonelyness, unless he has *something* of Leviathan proportions). May be Shubir coined in a phrase like ‘Old Chinese Saying – Get in the company of a man with *something* of Leviathan proportions and you shall not want anything else in life’ to impress her.

Jill of all trades aka Newton’s apple seemed to be the youngest blogger around but was found to be not so. On being provoked somewhat, she vehemently claimed that she loved Delhi enough to spend an entire lifetime here. Senjam Raj sekhar was seen doing what he does best, improve his PR with the people around him. Soumya was seen quietly observing all around him and helping Lone Cypress and Shubir by creating enough smoke screens around them which gave competition to the next day’s fog that was to envelop Delhi.

Priya (yeah that’s her name, not Mansi, as she insists) was seen merrily sipping Bloody Mary from all the glasses which held her potion. The effect has been noticed in certain pictures that she took of the crowd. They have been censored to protect identities.

Ajay had to peer over the crowd since he was at a higher level than the rest, not intellectually but because of his height. Asterix the gaul, was seen downing a lot of potion (even oblix’s share). Arnav (he’s not anonymous any more) was seen chatting up all members of the fairer sex who were in his vicinity. He didn’t change his vicinity as often as Deepan who was observed giving a lot of competition to Sw Ne for her double meaning, suggestive comments aimed at Khotta (of course, they went over his head, since he was concentrating on his lips too much, hoping they would get lucky). Abhishek Saxena was heard humming all the songs that were dedicated to the bloggers.

Ranjan was seen to stride in quite late, and he seemed to be searching for someone. It was a general perception, that he’s searching for his soulmate and was expecting to find one at the blog mob. His face said it all when he DID spot someone familiar. He stared at Sanjem for around 5 minutes (boring a hole in his head with his stare) and then informed him that he’s Sanjem Raj Sekhar. They both looked at each other as if they would kill each other. According to records, they both were supposed to have met at a debate organised in guawhati.

Beautiful life was seen being shy and coy and she hurried out the earliest she could (maybe she had someone waiting with whom she’s not so shy). WonderBug was seen giggling with Priya, when the latter would start searching for her Bloody Mary and with Deepan who was observed to be nose diving in his drink. Jasprit was seen handling all the waiters as they got confused with the huge orders. Sanjay arrived quite late with a confused look, wondering whether he had landed at the right place, but after some time, his confused look was replaced by an interested one, which revealed that this sort of thing was new to him. Amit netahoy Agarwal was the last one to arrive, and was seen getting his dimpled profile clicked by the official photographers.

A couple of bloggers were found absconding and there were a lot of hushed murmurs in the crowd about their whereabouts. Somersault aka irony aka Oddity aka Fried green apple (whatever) was missing along with Heretic. Scout Finch was reportedly drowning in her work. Her boss was later found murdered in her office.

The organisers presented everyone with a CD that had been tediously compiled by them. The CD was played throughout the evening with one track dedicated to each blogger. A vote of thanks was given to the organisers by our correspondent.

But this leaves a lot of questions unanswered. Would Ranjan ever find his soulmate? Would Jill of all trades ever settle down in Delhi. Would Khotta’s lips ever get lucky? Would Lonely Cypress ever learn to cook chinese? Would Deepan perfect his aim of nosediving in his drinks? Yeh sab jaan-ne ke liye dekhte rahiye HUM (B)LOG!