Encounters with an Idiot -II

I am a blast ended Skwert! I am enraged. I am tremors of anger you feel rolling down the street to the next town! I am, rage itself today. And just cause they have bigger cars, just cause they have a dick for a brain, I can not, really believe me and I apologize for shockingly unfair reality as it is,when I say, I can not grant them a priority right on the road! You can not bump your car into mine, I say bump and not hit cause bump was all it was, and then ask me or any other person, for heaven’s sake, to drive on. You can not claim what is not yours, you can not be uncivilized, you definitely can not be illogical, you can not possibly think through your ED affected dick for a brain and expect me to still give you the way, or any thing else! Yet, you did.

And yet, I had to. And I did. But they me gave another realization of how men in Delhi are and a reminder of why I think this place is not worth the change in my pocket. It reminded me of why and exactly how badly I wanted out, and for reasons I had for so long in neglect let bury.

For the rest who either personify this dick-headed breed found only in Delhi, you would be delighted to know you are dick heads. That after all would be the epitome of male chauvinism anyway. And those who can identify species of the said breed, please, on my behalf, please let them know they are indeed nothing more than dick heads.

Delhi has this unique and innate ability to produce these.

Encounters with an Idiot/ What has come of my life?

When a baker turns to surgery, or a kite flyer to avionics, a philosopher to children’s book writing, you know life is topsy-turvy. But when, my dear, when an MBA grad from Delhi decides to take on the law, you really do suffer. Words do injustice to the crimes he has inflicted upon me. I now realize that we did learn something in our five year law course. That we did understand that courts are not where we throw our arms wide open and say “judge sahab!! mujhay tareek nahin insaaf chahiye”

He has re-defined contempt, both civil and criminal. He files writs going into 300 pages. He then asks me, “Did you like my petition?” #$@#$!% He has also made it clear that he wants all his matters to be listed before only one particular bench. Then he also says judges play favourite.

And I have had the fortune of dealing with him on a one on one basis. Daily.

Is it stupidity or sheer optimism? Have I become a cynic?

High fidelity

I didn’t in the least like Nick Hornby’s Hi-fidelity, ask Vasu how we both hated it! But there is some sense in one thing he said. That pop music can be blamed for some of our woes. Like the DTC-music I subject myself to on a daily basis. (That too with dialogues, main tumhain nahin chhodunga, main intazaar karunga, Meri Priya.) Not to forget the ring-tones now-a-days. One fella even had a bhojpuri song.. kinda the limit! I sincerely believe that is the worst thing you can do to a person, gift him a ringtone. Imagine your boss calling you to savan main lag gayee aag, or my electricians ringtone, which thanks to his obstinacy even I have memorized, sayinya been bajaye.. (he refuses to ever come over before the sixth call)

But there is still more merit in Hornby’s observation, pop-music can put you in a curious mood. You feel like calling on old friends, boyfriends. (Though I cant list the top five.) And then you get sappy and feel like a pedicure, watching a movie and eating pop-corn, skipping office the next day, o.k. that can be said for most days. Still, I think you would get the drift.

…I bought a ginger and honey mix, as goes for the green tea, this too will take long before I try it.

Here is a list of things I need:

1. new key board
2. htc ear phones
3. a break
4. a car
5. 30 hrs to each day
6. et al.

Please note I accept gifts with flair and grace. And Christmas is round the corner!

Also, some think me is a man-eater. Pleased. Extremely so. Thanks again.

Adhi Chinni

Frequently now I find my self strolling in Khan Market, where the hip find their happenings, the poor seek to increase their belongings (one asked for “just hundared pleeaz”), where there are corridors of just magazines, and mind you, you might find one in French, but definitely not in the Hindi or Marathi! This is Dilli for the Ameerzaadas, fresh from the tava parathas, old wine and beer at Chonas, Pastas and Paninis, glasses worth more than the milkshakes  they serve!

There where I have no bearings, and my friend who is forever most spatially impaired (a lefty who always turn left when in doubt), we pass a while reminiscing the good old days. It still amuses me how we are capable of glorifying the past, we see it all across the country, and now also in me. Lemon Tea and Mojito, over stories across hostels. A few laughs and we are soon ready to leave behind the comfort of controlled weather conditions. Walking in to the blazing sun, the sordid sight of men peeing by day and by night!

In the midst of the distracting odor of greasy parathas and kababs, and euro perfumes,  I found this shop, called “happily unmarried”.  A small rectangular room which could barely fit 4 people at a time, was full of some classic drunkards jokes. Stereotypical and funny. If you go there you may still see the Chinnis on the mugs on the rack.