Not a very different night either

I opened the door and before I got my second foot in, I heard it, Pok started scolding Gana “How dare you continue watching Hindi channel. Move to any English channel immediately. Let’s enjoy some movie, MOVIE” Tapas joined in “MOVIE, MOVIE”. It’s my daily welcome in my friends’ mess. I go there daily to dine. And they pull my leg for my penchant for foreign cinema when…well when they just feel like it. God knows why they have chosen the word movie. Which way the word movie is different from cinema? I am sure they don’t have any clue either.

Any which way – they are pulling my leg or I join them against anyone else – this 1 hour is the happiest moment of my day. It is unsuccessful to bore me as yet, so it has got no chance with anybody else. I am quite sure of myself, you see.

Sunday evening. The faces were gloomy. Next day was Monday starting an ordeal of five working days to get a holiday again. We needed something just like The Great Raj Kapur show to lift our mood. Though watching movies (MOVIE!! MOVIE!!) running on Zee Cinema was a real pain in the neck, we all were hooked to Bobby. Rishi Kapoor and Dimple (Ohhh, Dimple!) looked fabulous lip synching “Hum tum ek kaamre mein bandh ho”. Suddenly Tapas hollered at Pok “Motherfucker, you are sitting on my pillow”. Pok, without even a try to shift, replied nonchalantly “I am trying to get a top view of Dimple’s cleavage; and don’t disturb me again till the movie finishes.” Then came that particular scene where in the song Dimple shed her clothes infront of a tiger and in skimpy attire offered to sacrifice herself to save Rishi Kapur. While gaping gleefully at the screen (actually at torturously beautiful and sexy Dimple to be more specific), I couldn’t help but blurted out “I don’t understand…I just don’t understand why Dimple shed her clothes (I don’t complain, of course) in front of the tiger? What did she think? The tiger would retreat behind a bush and begin to masturbate!...Hmmm, that must have been the plan, then they will be able to go back to the Bandh Kamra safely.” Everybody was stunned for a second and then broke into applause “What logic!” CLAP CLAP.

The song ended; Pok got up and started for the bathroom (No! not for that, you filthy mind) to shave. He turned and asked me “So, are we going?” Tapas asked “Where?” Pok answered “We are going to Habib’s next weekend.” Tapas’s brow shot up “To have a hair cut?” I calmed him down politely “No, no, to trim our hair down there. Every time I look at you, it catches fire.” Pok said “…so, we decided to throw the baby with the water. What is your hair down there in comparison with your friend?”

Two or three minutes passed after Pok left us, suddenly Gana rhymed “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Nodo was getting in. He got in and everybody joined “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He looked irritated and replied calmly “Balls. Your father’s balls.” Nodo had this extraordinary ability to speak in English with some vernaculars so aptly placed in between that made everybody laugh. We saw some maduli (amulet) tied around his upper right arm with a string. Gana asked “Guru, what are these, guru.” Nodo replied “Balls. Your father’s balls.” We broke into laughter seeing his irritation. I was in wonderful mood that day; was able to come up with great comment to irritate the target and to amuse the others. Within a blink, I said “What is this, Nodo! Carrying others’ father’s balls? Carrying your own father’s, I would have understood. I would have understood that you thought they would be better protected dangling, tied with your upper arm than being between his legs. But carrying Gana’s father’s balls! Shame, Shame.” Others got hysterical with laughter and joined when they got there breath back “Shame, shame.” Nodo remained calm and with food stuffed in his mouth, said “Balls. Your father’s balls.”

We were startled by Pok’s scream “Fucking short me!!! Now how am I supposed to shave when I can’t reach up to the mirror?” Nodo showed us a photo of his would be better-half that he took from her behind. “I really liked her pechhon (posterior).” He exclaimed.

I left at the last moment possible for my apartment as I didn’t want to miss a single second of the night, but I wasn’t too disheartened about it for I knew tomorrow night wouldn’t be any different.

Not a very different day

“Are you getting bored?” Madhurima asked matter of factly and I saw the blue lining on the frame of her glasses as I was seeing everything else and noticing nothing. I heard some chuckles which used to be a roar of laughter earlier but the novelty had been worn off…worn off with so many uses that I was getting bored of it too.
We, some colleagues, went to a restaurant for lunch. Everyone could found something to gossip upon while waiting for the food; and there I was, amidst them, silent, listening to everybody and none.
They couldn’t bear the burden of my sulking face any longer and tried to include me in their discussion. I decided to encash the opportunity, listened to them for a minute and started. At first, I knocked down Samendu with a “How can you talk so rubbish? It is impossible…” and brushed aside Neelanjali trying to support him with “…Don’t talk about them. Stupid people…” They were trapped and I fought like a hero, one against four with “…How can you people talk like this, you are educated…” or “…Let me finish first…” but never letting them to. Sayanti forgot she was giving Abhishek some expert opinions about shopping, eyed me for a minute or two and ordered “Manas, JSU (It’s her style to say Just Shut Up!)” with such a finality that I could not suppress the smile anymore and picked up the glass of water to take a sip. The sip became a gulp; that was the 4th glass of water I drank.
They were in the process of returning to their gossips which I wouldn’t complaint without when Sayanti hijacked them to Shopper’s Stop. I pondered over never ever coming again, but left it at that realizing the thought seemed to be revisited.
I saw the waiter was coming to our table with his hands dangling merrily beside his torso, without any idea of a customer bored to death. He told us a certain dish couldn’t be served. While they ordered another, I swallowed the thought of food with the 5th glass, mind’s respite for a few seconds. I picked up the menu card, read through all the dishes, watched the interior design and decoration of the restaurant and tried to match it with the menu card, took Abhishek’s digi-cam and took some snaps of it.
Samendu requested me earnestly not to be so bored and turned his head back to answer Madhurima. I looked down to the table, looked at the ornamental graphics around the border…
…….
…….

When I was with the 8th glass, food came. I became delirious with happiness; there was now something to do with.
After we got out of the restaurant everybody was looking for a taxi. I got in again looking for the toilet.

Thank God, he was counting his days

Last month, I moved out of my hostel to my friends'. I got to know their cable TV connection was cut and nobody had any clue about the time and reason. As my friends are even lazier than me I had to look for the house where a lady working in the organization lived. Having seen an old gentleman, counting the beads of a Japmala, strolling within a veranda of a house and I asked him if he could help me out, and following is the conversation...

• Me: Hello sir, would you please tell me which house the lady working in the organization providing cable TV connection lives in?

• Him: Lady...cable TV connection...why? What happened?

• Me: Ummm, I have a little business. Can you please tell me where she lives?

• Him: What is your business? (With an authoritarian voice that normally old people have when they are talking to young people.)

• Me: (Ohh fuck! now I have to state the whole thing to this senile. I thought about ignoring him and walking past him to the next house. But, I ... complied.) Unhh! Our connection is cut and we are not being able to watch TV. Our neighbor said the lady lived in this locality. So, please, if you direct me to her residence…

• Him: But she didn’t marry!!!

• Me: (Stupefied for a minute. What is his problem? That she is not married? That if she is not married then how can she be a lady?). Oh, her residence, please.

Then finally he showed me her home that was exactly opposite his house. I tossed a glance back over my shoulder as I knocked on her door; and there he was, his strolling stopped though counting the beads continued to pile blessings for the eternal life, watching me intently. Lonely old man got something to do in his leisure. While returning, I thanked God that the old man was counting his days.

Dare to get the meaning...

Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

God should only be remembered in ....

God should only be remembered -----

1. in constipation
2. in loose - motion.
3. in examination time
4. when you are cursing God in public but deep inside your mind you are praying -- " God, please, forgive me".

Exam and my running nose

Our examination was scheduled to be finished at 28th April, but postponed till 4th May. I got a running nose from 2nd May. My friends said "What a bad luck ; it apparently didn't find any other time to disturb you." I answered "It's not the fault of the running nose. It schedule itself to be happened after 28th. But our exam got postponed. What can it do?". My friend exclaimed "What a logic"!

Hypocrisy

When I went to St. Paul's cathedral, I watched many attractive girls there. Many of them wore revealing dresses. A very attractive girl wearing a dress exposing her belly and naval and when she saw I was enjoying her show, she hurried to cover her belly with her hand. I dont understand why did she wear that dress then ?