Gullu Advice to the Nation on a Sunday

RAW (an acronym for Research and Analysis Wing and no reference to their investigative skills) has just declared that ISI is behind the Kabul blast. Gullu called up the Intelligence chief and told him that they should seriously investigate who was in the front of it too, besides the blown away gate, of course.

Indian Express reports that Mayawati has alleged that the Centre is using the CBI to target her. A visibly distresed Gullu immediately faxed the Centre the following text "STOP USING THE CBI! TARGET HER YOURSELF!"

Gullu is also confused by the incomplete phrase appearing in TOI - Spicejet chief resigns. Resigns to what? His proclivity to flash kids or just general fate?

Gullu has just read that Dr. Talwar is free again. People in Noida with ailments ( serious, hilarious or imaginary) should really avail this opportunity and go for the free consultation day today. If the good (if rather murderous) doctor refuses, citing such trivial reasons that his daughter got murdered and he's just come back for incarceration after two months, look perplexed and ask "Ok. But I still don't see what the issue is." Make sure that you do this when the doctor has a sharp scalpel in the hand and your throat is within slashing distance.

The IAEA is still reading the draft it seems. are they frigging dyslexic? Or is the print too small to be read?

CPM says it "can" support the BJP. Gullu is confused - of course, they can. In fact, they can all paint their body red and strut naked around the streets of Delhi on a hot summer day, nekked, and act like monkeys in heat. Is that what's been stopping them to do so, so far - the knowledge of the possibility they "can"? Sheesh, there are a million can's then. Starting with the possibility of a bunch of bananas in the chief's ass is an excellent beginning.

Gullu just read that panel TV has gas. He wants to ask if that explains the strange smells in the drawing room. Related to that, he wants to ask if he lives in a red house would he be still affected by the greenhouse gas effect.

Good Morning folks. Have a nice Sunday.

Perssonally yawrrss

A friend had asked me to verify his address for a perosnal loan he has taken. Today morning, I got a call from an unidentified number as I drove to work.
Female caller:'Am I speaking with Gaurav...?'
Me:'Yea, Gaurav Joshi here.'
'...Joshi?'
'Yup.'
'Is this Gaurav Joshi?'
'Yes! This is Gaurav Joshi! What is this regarding?'
'Hello sir.'
'Hello. Please I’m driving... is this regarding personal credit thing?'
'No sir. This is regarding offer.'
'Ok. Yes. I know him.'
'Who sir?'
'Santosh kumar.'
'Do you want to speak with him?'
Huh?
Conversation in the background:'Santosh... tere se baat karega.'
'One minute sir. He’s jussst coming.'
'Hello! Who?!? what is this...'

Somebody playing jal tarang... Please hold the line as your call is very important t us.... somebody playing jal tarang... ... Kripya thdi der prateeksha karein. Aapki call hammare liye bahut mahhatvapoorna hai.... somebody playing jal tarang... ... Please hold the line as your call is vry important t us....

A pause.

'Hello! Who is this!'

... Please hold the line as your call is very important t us.... .... somebody playing jal tarang...

Somewhere in the next millennium.
'Saaree phaur keeping you baiteeng ssir.'
' What is this regarding?'
'Do I know you ssir?'
'Why the... Who are you?'
'Ssantosh ssir. Ssantosh Kumar.'
I take a deep breath.
'Santosh, is this regarding a personal loan jo mere ek dost ne liya hai?'
'Aapke dost bhi lena chaahte hain ssir?'
Nahi. Koi nahi lena chahta. Aap kya mujhe personal loan bech rahein hain?
'No ssir.'
'To phir yeh kya hai?'
'Ssir, wee have an aafar phraum Maauntin Club!'
'Ok. Not interested.'
'Ssir, only vun paint phive lakhs.'
'Nahi, main interested nahi hun.'
'Aapko aur aapki missej ko ssri lanka, malaysseea ya thaaeland ka return phlight aur 8-9 din ka...'
'Bhai, meri koi wife nahi hai!.'
'To ssir, girlphreind to rakhte honge na?'
A feeling, a moment flashes. Me sitting on the buses to home during the college days dreading the moment when the magazine vendors will slither in and come forcing the cheapies in front of my protesting face.
'Bhai nahi lena, bola to!'
'Sir. Isme khul kar likha hai!'

I am too flabbergasted to respond.
'Ssir, aapko teen maheene tak kuchh nahi dena hoga.'
'Bhaiya! Main interested nahi hun!'
'Kyun ssir?'
'Bhai, nahi hun to nahi hun!'
'Theek hai ssir. Phir mere ko kaahe bulaya time kharaab karne ko!'
Click.

A couple of hours later.

A timid – ‘Am I talking to Gaurav..’
‘Ma’am. I talked to you in the morning. I am not interested!’
‘Sir, aapne mere se kahaan baat karee. Aap to Santosh se baat kar rahe the.’
‘Right. Aur maine use bol diya tha ki main interested nahi hun. In fact, he banged the phone on me.’
‘Sir uski taraf se sorry bolti hun.’
‘It’s all right. Thank you.’
‘Sir, ab to maafee bhi maang li, le leejiye na!’
‘...!'
‘Pleease sir.’
‘Gah.. Uhh.. I am sorry but..’
‘Sir leejiye. [Background noise] Hello?’
‘Ya hello?’
‘Ssaary ssir.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Ssantosh, ssir. Ssaary sir.’
The pimp is back.
‘Bery bery ssaary... ssir.’
It’s a voice creepy enough to keep you grandmother locked in after the evening. I imagine, Ssantosh tasting those hissing esses slowly with a wet, rolling tongue over a bishop piece, or a knife, he is holding in his other hand.
‘That’s all right. Santosh, I am sorry for jo bhi hua par...’
‘...[call transferred] ab sab OK hai sir?’
‘Thanks. I am sorry...’
‘...Sir, ab No mat kahiyega!’
What the fuck! She’s coming on to me like a sister in a rakhi scene in a B-grade.
‘...Look I am busy right now...’
‘Sir, Santosh se phir se maafee kehlaa deti hun!’
‘Nahin, please! Aap muje thoda time dein. ‘
‘Aap ko baad mein call kar lun sir?’
‘Yes, Please do that.’
‘What time sir?’
‘Any time but baad mein...’
‘...Ok Thank you sir!’
Click.

Guys, I have to raise 1.5 lakhs omhow. And the next time you want to take a personal loan, don't involve me please.

In Bad Taste

Harry Potter actor stabbed to death

Well about time, won't you say?

Finding Happiness in work

1. You can only be as good a worker as how well-slept you are. Give it that extra shot. Get up in the morning only when you're sure that if you keep lying one minute more, you'll scream.
2. Itchy asses, irritating armpit hair and inviting scabs have to be gotten out of the way before you can give your best concentration at your cubicle. Get them out of the way at the foray for half-an-hour greeting everybody who passes by loudly.
3. Treat your bosses like your parent. Blame him/her for everything and keep screaming at him about how he screwed up your life.
4. Conference calls, esp. with top management from the States involved, are kept fr the special purpose that you can tell everyone what dumb fucks they are and how you left an IPL match to listen to this shit. Please utilize this opportunity.
5. Having alcohol in office is generally prohibited. But cocktails with those little umbrellas are a different issue.
6. Never bitch about anyone behind their back. Do it in front of their face. Better make a presentation about it and share it with the rest of your colleagues on the townhall meetings.
7. MBA lingo is passe. Color them with expletives from the national language.
8. Sexual harassment does not include love bites.
9. Never make presentations. Always pass the buck around, arrive totally unprepared and then refuse to let the ppt proceed beyond the first slide. Keep asking them - 'Pehle yeh batao schooling kahaan tak ki ki hai?'
10. If cornered, copy all your excel files and paste them on a single slide And take all questions with an incredulous shake of the head and muttering - 'Is it the fucking Stupid Day, or what?'
11. Break off from meetings, by screaming blue murder and asking the senior guy seated next to you - 'What did you fucking eat!?!'
12. Don't hum. Sing. Dance if you're really in the mood.
13. It is ok to piss on the side of the cubicles if you really can't be bothered to take the long walk to the rest rooms.
14. Always assume. Never bother with facts.
15. When top honchos come visiting, it is a brilliant idea to keep interrupting their pep talk with anecdotes from - 'That reminds me of the time...' type. Builds terrific chemistry. In the question sessions, don't bother to raise your hands and don't bother if you have to cut someone else. Just keep asking him anything under the sun. Like - 'What makes you reallly horny?'
16. If the AC is too low for you, communicate visually. Remove your trousers and fan your crotch in front of the duct.
17. If the boss comes asking about the project, tell him you thought he was joking at that time. If he keeps insisting, tell him the dog ate the laptop.
18. Call everyone Pappu. You're too busy to be remembering names.
19. Press the door close button as soon as someone signals you to hold the lift. If they still manage to make it, keep them from getting in using your legs.
20. Get one of those flint matches. Strike them off your superiors' balding pates to light your cigars.

My wishes for a long protracted and blissful career, wherever you are.

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Based on rakesh's idea

Smoke on the Metro: The Aftermath - I

January 2:
CPI-M and BJP disrupted House proceedings today for an hour before the session had to be adjourned. The issue at hand was the scathing exposee by Bland Spice yesterday on his blog on the shocking level of flatulent matter existing in the Metro.

Prakash Karat, walking out, told this reporter that the issue was clearly never a prt of the COmmon Minimum Program and is defintely against the poor man. BJP cadres gheraoed the Parliament in the noon and demanded the resignation of the PM.

Mr. Advani, leader of the opposition, alleged that the issue points towards rampant corruption happening in the Metro Development Authority; but failed to elaborate.

He demanded a CBI inquiry and said that there is clearly a foreign hand.

A nation-wide bandh has been announced by the CPI-M on January 3.

Expect an update on the strike tomorrow.

Smoke on the Metro

Riding the Metro from Karol Bagh to CP on Sunday, a thought struck my nose: We hear so much about passive smoking and its evils, while for millenniums the bigger evil remains unchallenged - passive farting.

While the problem pervades all public arenas - sometimes silently, sometimes with a whistle and sometimes with a ripping explosion, the topic I am specifically bringing up is "Flatulence Aboard Rail Tracks" - F.A.R.T

Smoking relieves stress, channelises nervous energy and, of course, is a great bond builder amongst men. So what's the hullabaloo about some dumb fu**s coughing their inner lining out over a few harmless drags - it's probably good for their health. Nicotine might be bad for health in large doses but surely our body might be needing some of it if it needs lead (I will let some miserable Health researcher to prove this very obvious theory).

Our cities lay wrapped in huge clouds of carbon-flavored smog, cacophonies of horns and swears, and plastered in dungs, spits and waste: and the government is up against the good Samaritans out there beside you nourishing your nicotine-starved lungs.

So it kills a few? So what? Surely the BlueLines, wars, pollution, road rage and every other misery claim more?

Starting our clean up act with eradicating smoking in public is like helping a man being pounded by 20 gorillas in heat and being bitten by a mosquito, by trying to squash the mosquito.

Now take farting.

What advantage does that give you: smelling the contents of what some mysterious co-passenger had guzzled down with the aid of some cheap liquor? I already have all the gases inside me without your releasing your own. All it does to me is that it challenges me to better my record time for holding breath and reminds me that if the food that we eat comes out smelling like that - God, and the alimentary canal, indeed move in very mysterious ways.

So, before smoking, we have to scourge the earth, or, at least, the Metro, from the deadly cocktails of a Jat Farmer's baajraa roti with the Punjabi's beer and butter chicken with the Khan chacha's bade ke kebab!

Here's my suggestion:

Fart can be seen in infrared. Install the infrared cameras within the metros at every ten meters and make them sensitive to changes in air pressure. So whenever the fat lady in salwaar kameez shifts the lining of her wedge quietly and stealthily by a deft hand behind an extended dupatta, the increase in pressure behind causes the cameras to swivel and catch her in the act. If the lady is driving the Metro, wait for it to stop at the next destination and drag the criminal out.

Now here's the punishment: get some 100 really fat guys who can't move a step without wheezing and holding their heart, and feed them nothing but beer, mooli ke paraathe and taco bell burritos. keep them in separate small cubicles and pay them to just sit there and keep eating. provide a bog inside these cubicles - with no flush. Use these specially-designed state-of-the-art cells to detain the criminals caught on camera overnight.

That will teach them farting etiquette.