It is just another stupid story of a stupid guy who committed the folly of falling in love with a girl in his workplace.

That love forms the backdrop of stupidity is well known, still idiots like me are more than willing to take the plunge.It happened to me during the training period of my job. I fell in love with a girl at work place.Now, it is exemplified stupidity to fall in love with someone who earns the same as you do because girls do not give shit about guys who earn equal to or less than their own salary.If falling in love with a girl working in the same office wasn’t stupid enough, I committed an even bigger kick-in-the-ass worthy mistake- I fell in love with a Delhi girl .Now,you don’t fall in love with girls from Delhi because they are twice as bitchy,throw four times as much tantrums and have more boyfriends than there are people in Vatican city.

It’s not like I didn’t try to prevent myself from committing this horrific act of lunacy. I hardly talk to girls.And,I have legitimate reasons for that. Every time you talk to a girl you feel an urgency to shoot yourself in the head to escape the incoming crap. It’s like girls are genetically incapable of mature talk and they are consistently and persistently clueless.

So,one fine day I told a few of my friends that I liked her.Now,those Godforsaken dudes blurted out everything in front of that girl and everyone else in the office and all of a sudden I became as popular among my co –workers as kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi is among Indian house wives.
For some weird reasons I generated huge curiosity among two of the girl’s friends who I later came to know were also her roommates.I came to know that they were looking for me.Now,two girls looking for you is generally considered good news for a guy but when you are not sure as to what they are going to do with you after they find you is when you start to freak out.I freaked out too.So,I had to spend quite a few coffee breaks in weird places to escape being noticed.

When you are in love every Tom, Dick and Harry around you considers it his moral responsibility to guide you. So, every dumbass you come across, starts giving you love advices
One friend – “ So,why don’t you propose her?”

ME – “I don’t know.For one, it seems she has a boyfriend.She is on the phone all the time.”

FRIEND – “How does it prove that she has a BF?
ME – “Common sense says if a girl talks on the phone for more than five minutes, it has to be a guy at the other end.
Besides , at this age if you don’t have a Boyfriend then either you are ugly ,fat or a lesbian .Now,she doesn’t
exactly fit the first two profiles and I am hopng she doesn’t turn out to be the last one”

ANOTHER FRIEND – “Propose her even if she is committed because if the girl is single you have the whole world to compete with. If
however she is committed then you have only one guy to compete with.

FRIEND NO. 3 – “ Forget her,propose her friend.She is way hotter.”

FRIEND NO. 4- “ Propose her .She will definitely say yes.Because girls are more desperate to have Boyfriends.Because guys need
girlfriends for romance while girls need boyfriends to pay the restaurant bills,to pay the shopping bills,to pay
the transport bills,to keep receiving gifts regularly and to bore someone to death by talking absolute nonsense
for hours on the phone”

Your friends are your worst enemies at this point.They passed comments every time the girl and I came face to face with each other.And those moments of embarrassment were one of the few moments where you feel life isn’t exactly a bed of roses,it’s a pile of shit.It’s messy and stinks for most parts.
The friends of the girl whenever they spotted me burst into smiles showing their Colgate brushed 32 giving expressions that normally people give after listening to Russel Peters’ racist jokes.

I came to know from a few friends of mine that the girl wanted t talk to me.But what was I supposed to say- “hey, I like you.But, fuck it you already know that.”
You just don’t go up to a girl and start up a conversation especially when she knows that you are hitting on her.You will look more pathetic than the guy selling HARPIC on TV
The things, I never thought of proposing her.It never crossed my mind.I just liked her.Besides, this whole love thing doesn’t look glamorous when you look at the lovers around .When people are in love they behave like idiots.Once, I heard a guy talking to her girlfriend on phone and he said something like this
“jaanu tum mujhe pyar karti ho.bataao kitna pyar karti ho”
AND I was like-Motherfucker, the scientists all over the world thought it wasn’t valuable enough to spend time creating a metric system to measure the love quotient of losers like you.So no , she won’t be able to tell how much she loves you.”
I didn’t want to turn into one of these losers but damn it ,every time you see a pretty face there is a warm feeling in your stomach.

So,2 months passed by and I couldn’t do anything.i couldn’t even be sure if she had a boyfriend or if she was even remotely interested in me. The Training ended and we both got different locations never to meet again.So, I didn’t get the girl.But I fared better than most of the boys .i didn’t get beaten up by the girl’s boyfriend,didn’t end up in the police station and didn’t get slapped by the girl.As, I was leaving , I got another free advice-“don’t worry dude.the best thing about being rejected is that there is always a better girl at the other end .”


DISCLAIMER:- This story is pure fiction and any resemblance to any one living or dead is purely co-incidental. Still,if any one relates to this story then the author  doesn’t find any reason as to why he should even bother to give a shit.



THE JOURNEY.............

Indian families have an undying bond with the Indian railways. Every Indian middle class family (or as Shashi Tharoor likes to call them “The Cattle Class”. And Indian middle class likes to call Shashi Tharoor a “Bakchoddh”) has at least one family member who has travelled by train.
I was no exception. Circumstances forced me to endure the torture of travelling by train as well.

So, on that fateful day , i boarded the train from my place to Bangalore. Now, thanks to lack of parental interest in funding useless excursion trips , lack of a girlfriend, lack of dedication in going to Kota to foster my fucked up career ,i didn’t get many opportunities to travel by train. So, my expectations from the journey were way overrated.
You get inside the train expecting hot chicks to be your seat partner and all you get is a 40 year old woman holding an 8 year old kid and a bald husband.

After I took my seat, a family came and sat beside me. The aunty started adjusting the luggage and asked me to hold her child. And I was like, why the fuck should I hold her child. I wouldn’t hold him even if the child was mine. I was starting to get nauseated with the aunty, the fat uncle and the irritating kid until their 21 year old daughter who had a face that could put Megan Fox out of business and a body that could create a Shakti Kapoor out of a guy like me, sat right next to me. Her dad wasn’t impressed, her mom didn’t care and i was in seventh heaven. That was until her phone beeped. She read a message and replied “baby, please wait for 2 minutes. I will call you as soon as possible”. The Shakti Kapoor inside me immediately committed suicide and Dilip Kumar of Devdas popped out.
People like me are such big duffers, that no matter how hot the girl is, no matter how way out of our league she is no matter how many guys she goes out with and no matter how puckered our face is, we, for some weird reason believe that we have a shot at her.

Her dad asked her to swap places and sat beside me. The look he gave me was more heinous than what Greg Chapel would have ever given to Sourav Ganguly. Then he suddenly started talking “so, boy what do you do?”. I don’t know why people have this urgency to talk to random strangers while travelling. I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to stare at the girl. But, what I wanted more was to not get slapped by her dad while ogling at her. So, I had to answer him. But, what was i supposed to tell him? I wanted to give him a cool answer to impress the girl. So, i couldn’t actually tell him that I was an IT engineer. IT engineers hardly get any respect. Dads don’t marry their daughters to IT engineers until and unless their dowry budget is less than 50,000 bucks. So, I reluctantly answered “I have got a job in an MNC”. But by then her dad’s interest in my profession had died down and my well-rehearsed answer went down the drain.

The family opened the lunch boxes which I swear to god had enough food to feed entire Somalia for a day. The amount of oil in the food, an amount enough to resolve dispute between USA and the entire Middle East told me that the family was from north. And then the constant molestation of words such as October (which they pronounced as Actoober) and friend (which they pronounced as Fraaand) confirmed my doubt. Now it was my time to take the sweet talk to the next level. “So what are you doing nowadays” I asked her. Both her mom and dad choked on their food. It is Mr. Bean level stupidity to show interest in the girl in front of her parents. “Final year B.Tech in Bangalore”. She said curtly and went back to texting.

Now, while the family was over protective of the girl, it let the kid loose like a wild bull. And the kid was all over me, punching me, poking me and making all efforts to render my rupees twelve thousand cell phone useless. Now, I hate kids. I personally believe, kids should come out of their mothers’ wombs not after nine months but after 19 years because that is the official age of sanity. The whole childhood innocence thing is crap. Children are not cute and innocent, they are irritating, disgusting and slap worthy. But still, I had to endure the pain delivered by that kid for the sake of his sister- A girl who in all probability had a boyfriend, a girl whose dad was ready to kill me, a girl who did not even bother to look at me. Seriously, when it comes to women, men cross the threshold of stupidity by quite a margin.

Anyways, after being tortured by both the male members of the family I thought I would rather take an afternoon nap. But then, the aunty ji (Girl’s mum) started talking. She talked about the relatives they had gone to visit, about some phuppaji in Britain, who had married a white girl half his age, about some chacha ji in Faridabad whose daughter ran away with a boy of another caste, about some cousin who recently had a piles operation and about the fact that her daughter was not good at studies (which is obvious because pretty girls are never good at studies, they are not supposed to be good at studies, they are only supposed to be good at looking good. Everything else will be taken care of by desperate boys looking for a chance to score). In short, she talked useless crap for eight continuous hours.

At 9:30 pm when I was getting ready to sleep, two men who resembled Adnan Sami from pre-dieting days boarded the train. They came to me and requested me to share my berth with them for one night as they didn’t have the ticket. So, there I was squeezed between two fat guys trying to sleep. But then the girl’s dad started snoring and ruined all my efforts of sleeping. At about 7:30 am I woke up to find a 70 kilo leg resting on my tummy. With all my efforts and half the life that I had been spared with, moved that fat man’s leg to find out that the girl was gone; her talkative mom was gone; her frightening dad was gone; her annoying brother was gone.

So, I boarded off the station with a back ache and a heart ache thanking God that I was still alive after spending seven hours beneath a 120 kilo man.

New city, new job, same old fuck ups

Every small town boy gets an instant boner at the prospect of living in a Tier 1 city, his ego boosted by the Viagra of a false notion that your self-worth varies proportionately with the height of the buildings of the city you live in .Even though they would hate to admit it, most of the small town pricks are exhilarated on seeing a big city. So was I. But then a good feeling is like a wet dream, it is hardly real and does not last long. My first hand experience in Bangalore can be summarized in the following words- First elation then frustration. Allow me to explain.

I know we are all very proud of our diversity, the fact that we have 22 official languages, 3000 dialects and all but every time you cross state borders this national feature of ours becomes a major practical fuck up. In these times of frustration you feel like frenching the British for their leftover—English. Now, Indians cannot talk in English .Listening to an Indian talk in English can lead to reactions varying from tremendous laughter to terrible heart attack. But thankfully Indians can universally understand English.

After reaching Bangalore I took an auto to my desired location which cost me 300 bucks and I was like “what the fuck”. Back in Bhubaneswar with 300 bucks you can roam the entire city twice. The reason I came to Bangalore is because got a job in an IT company and have no shame in admitting that an IT job is the most shameful job ever .My office environment feels like post war Iraq—utter chaos and nobody has any clue as to what the job is all about. And absolute lack of beautiful women in the office brings down the moral of the entire workforce.
If you have an IT job then it’s a no brainer that you will be living in a PG or a private hostel. Living in a private hostel is like living in a German concentration camp –- too many people too little space, small beds ,disgusting food and the compulsion to regularly sniff fart smells from random people with no one taking responsibility for this heinous crime.

In Bangalore, there are majorly two kinds of people, the ones working for some IT company for a pittance and the others looking for a job in some IT company reducing their Dad’s Post Retirement Fund to a pittance.
They say Bangalore is the pub city and the city of concerts. The truth is, the people who play in Bangalore, if they were in Govt jobs, would have retired some 15 years ago. Members of Metallica, Megadeth and Iron Maiden are probably playing with their grand kids right now.

Also, the names of places in Bangalore will make you bang your head on the nearby wall. It’s like the Bangaloreans made some tacit pact with the Chinese as to who could give a more complicated name to their places. Bannerghatta, Banashanari, Bomanathalli,lead to those awkward moments when you board a bus to go to a place and forget the name of the place in the first place because the name of that place is more complicated than Benzene’s chemical name.
Thanks to total abstinence towards college education you feel like a Hindi medium student sitting in a Chinese medium school during the technical sessions. They keep telling you how they have taken steps to make work interesting and fun, but the truth is unless you are in porn business ,work is hardly fun.
Add to that these people teach you some confidence boosting and stress releasing methods like imitating a goldfish ,virtual striptease solo karate punches ,etc. My past experiences and reasonable sanity tell me that if a guy does these exercises in a public place he will never get laid and die a virgin or turn towards homosexuality. Besides, I personally believe that this IT sector is responsible for increase in homosexuality because IT people are grossly underpaid and overworked and hardly get girls.
Point being, the job is tiring ,the place is exhausting and I am fading away into oblivion.

P.S:- After reading this,Bangaloreans are requested not to kill me.Its not that the city is bad,its just that my life is fucked up irrespective of the geography.So, I dont like the never ending flyovers here ,the AC Volvo buses which practically take half your salary,the malls(because sane people donot like malls.Because, no matter how classy or flashy the mall is,at the end of the day is a fucking mall- a congregation of shops.but there are loonies out there who will drag their sorry ass to the malls the moment they hit Bangalore ,take stupid pics of themselves ,upload it on Facebook and keep disgusting me.)My trainers if they are reading this, are requested not to take me seriously .They never take me seriously at work anyways.Thus, my story is a tragic comedy.Hope, yours is better than mine.

Why I hate “Feminists”

I hate feminists.Modern day feminists include bored housewives ,wanna be socialites, con groups calling themselves NGOs and female political science students who have absolutely no prospect of getting a job.

Oxford dictionary defines feminism as :-

Then advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes.

Gooks here perceive feminism as :-

A hobby or activity to be pursued or invested in because
a) I have a lot of free time
b) I am a sadist
c) My husband is on tour working or probably screwing some whore
d) I am a lesbian
e) I am ugly.there is no way a guy would ever show interest in me so , lets take the frustration out.
f) I am a guy and I am a virgin.And I am a born loser.So, nobody notices me.So, if I support these bitches and their pointless causes then may be one of them will sleep with me out of courtesy.

Feminists believe that if a guy doesn’t relate to the way a woman sees or perceives things and if he has a difference of opinion or opposes a woman’s political , social or personal opinion then he is anti-feminist, sexist ,danger to society and should be punished with celibacy for the rest of his life.
(Although, believing that a woman actually has a political opinion is like believing Santa is real and that there is actually a place called heaven where good guys go after death and half naked girls (apsaraas ) entertain them there.)

The idea of feminism is a little less pathetic but as ridiculous as the frequent boys better or girls survey frequently spamming my facebook , twitter page and regularly dominating social discussions.I mean how can one possibly answer that question.All my friends are boys ,I hang out with them,get all my porn from them but then girls have boobs. And if, by God’s will I ever get to have sex,I would prefer it to be with a girl.So see, both boys and girls are important.

Feminism was supposed to be about protection of rights of women.Instead it has become some man bashing movement viewing men as potential molestors worthy of catration ,keeping them at arm’s length just because they have balls hanging between their legs.

Feminism as an ideology is as pointless as communism.Communists wanted to get rid of social and economic inequality.They did succeed to an extent by ripping the rich of their wealth.So,everybody was poor.Hence, class divide was bridged.Feminism is trying to find the answer to gender inequality on similar lines only here the poterntial victims(males) constitute half of world’s population.

While it is no secret that women all over the world are victims of bias and there is hardly any woman who hasn’t been raped ,molested or eve teased feminism i believe is not the answer to it.Feminism has so far only succeded in gender segregration dividing,separating and analysing issues and crime against women or not. Any crime against a woman is crime against the entire humanity and should be viewed as such.
The people who call themselves the crusadors of justice for women have rich Dads,shop from Prada and have never been subjetecd to sexual humiliation ,inequalit or injustice.They are desperate to impress upon an opinion which by all means essentially is crap.

Point being , feminism is a menace.Create awareness among men to fight this social evil.And if you are a feminist then you might be loved by women but will lead a life of public ridicule and eternal damnation.

Pratik’s Guide to Incredible India

Now ,why Indians travel abroad is fairly obvious and well understood-beautiful locales ,tall buildings, night clubs ,strip clubs ,  hot women ,nude beaches and infrastructure our country is not even planning to  build for the next  150 years.

Why people from other countries travel to India is however confusing. Now, why would you want to visit a country whose winter temperatures are 4 degrees higher than summer temperatures of your country? If you have chosen India as your tourist destination then maybe you have taken the Incredible India ad a bit too seriously (one of the few Govt. of India ads which haven’t used a Bollywood actor so far.)Incredible India ads, especially the Kerala and Assam tourism ads are more complicated than Christopher Nolan’s movies. Your only clue to deciphering them lies at the end of the ad when the tourism logo is shown. You miss that and you will never understand what the ad was all about.

Back to the topic of tourism in India, if you are an American or European (because these are the only two groups of people we Indians care about. People from other countries are not are not worthy of any shit here and thus, tourists in this article would imply these guys until and unless mentioned otherwise) and have a lot of money (well, the idea of a wealthy American/European in current scenario is an oxymoron, and a joke the Chinese find very funny) and have decided to visit India then it’s my duty to guide you and prepare you for the journey. Although, the concept of travelling for anything other than for  business purposes, according to Marwari book of conduct is utter waste of money and hence, a heinous crime. So, before you begin your amazing journey of this amazing country through overcrowded local trains, pot holes filled roads ,china made vibrator inspired 20 year old buses, you should take a few points  into account.

They say, India has a lot to offer in terms of tourism. The way I see it, it’s only temples, temples and temples we’ve got. And they don’t even allow you inside those temples.(Fuck you, Atithi Devo Bhava).so, the deduction being, it helps in here, if you are an atheist. No faith in God means no overt enthusiasm to enter our temple premises; no enthusiasm means exponentially lesser chances of getting beaten up by the public. Everything else that India offers, like  classy restaurants ,pubs, bars, night life, concerts ,etc are direct imports from your culture serving your food, playing your music and selling your booze.

If you suddenly find yourself being dragged by some brown man moving with a ridiculously large family and them forcefully trying to take pictures with you, don’t get scared. They are normal people. In India, taking a snap with a “GORA” is as big an achievement as sleeping with Jenna Jameson. While travelling in buses and trains which are always by default overcrowded, handkerchiefs are must .See, Indian males consider deodorants an endangered resource and use it only when they are sure they are going to get laid. So, unless you want to smell their sweat, you need something to cover your nose.(Okay, this was a bit too much. Here a lot of people use deodorants and a lot less people get laid).

Girls need to be extra cautious while travelling in India. Female tourists should stay away from characters with questionable intentions. In north India, that means guys wearing leather jackets in the month of March, trying to talk to   you in English that will make even Injamam ul Haq’s English sound classy. The problem here is, there is an acute shortage of fair girls, especially in the region below the Tropic of Cancer and an abundance of men ready to rape. Thanks to the cultural atmosphere most of us were brought up (which teaches us to respect a woman wearing a sari and to call her a slut if she is in a bikini) we get an erection seeing a woman wearing anything other than a Burqa.
The point being if you are 20 year s old and running topless in the beaches of Goa you might get raped. If you are not 20 years old and not running topless in the beaches of Goa you might still get raped.

And guys offering you free drinks are not into philanthropy.

If you are from China then please consult the people of north eastern India to know more about your fate in this country. Besides , I hate Chinese people anyways. My interaction with the Chinese tourists makes me believe that this whole idea of India china friendship is a pile of cow shit. Frankly, we have a better shot with the Pakistanis. And if you feel home sick and you start looking for Chinese food let me tell you,most of  the Chinese restaurants in india are actually “Chainise” restaurants and what they sell is technically  Indian food with a lot of soya sauce  cooked by some guy from UP who in all probability  can’t even spell Chinese.

Africans, Asians  and South East Asians (euphemism for blacks, browns and  people with small eyes)command as must  respect in our country as North Indians in Maharashtra. However, African guys give south Indian people major ego boost (Anna, there-are-people-darker-than-me yippee moment).so, there might be some bonhomie there.

Besides these, there are usual cases of con, robbery ,rape, and fraud. But ,since most of you come from societies where cases of assault, gun slinging,  gangbanging and racial abuse are common I don’t know why you should have a problem here. With this, I have come to the conclusion of this article. Here is hoping you have a great tour ahead .But with millions losing jobs in Europe and America and million others losing lives in Africa why the fuck do you want to travel in the first place.

Disclaimer: this article uses exaggeration to put forth the opinion of the author, that being me.It might come as offensive to certain groups but the sole intention of the article is to focus on bigotry in the society we live in,racial and gender bias ,hypocrisy that pervades society;an open abhorrence to tolerance and a parochial view towards culture ,norms ,morality  that is plaguing this society.I absolutely do not wish or intend to show my country in bad light.So,though I do not dance and shout like freaks in cricket stadiums I am still as patriotic as any other Indian. So, there is no need to send death threats on my e mail .Additionally ,this article doesn’t intend to insult  any caste,race,religion,nationality,cultural groups,ethnic groups,south Indians,north Indians, Chinese or Injamam ul Haq. I am personally a big fan of Injamam .I believe if he had not become a cricketer he would have made a good standup comedian.—the evergreen “inshallah ,the boys played well” joke.
And if you are an outsider reading this piece then fuck you for judging us,your place isn’t any better ,unless of course if you are from Amsterdam
Amsterdam :-has more hookers than there are women in Haryana

My Friend’s Girlfriend

 Not being blessed with good looks  can be a deterrent  in life. It’s worse for girls, but since, I have no insight into girls’ psyche, I will stick to boys. Not having good looks exponentially reduces your chances of scoring with girls. So, to get laid either you have to severely compromise on the quality of girls or you have to pray to lord Jagannath and fast every Monday to get lucky. In spite of trying ardently, I could not hook up with anyone. So, I concluded that love and girls were not for me. The tragedy of life is that love is nothing like Eric Segal’s novels- eternal experience, salvation of soul, togetherness until death and other crap. It’s more like toilet calls. It occurs regularly and the more you avoid, the greater is the urgency for it.
My friend fell in love though. And unlike many unfortunate people like me, the girl also fell for him. Thus, my friend ended up with this girl ,Arushi  Chaddha  (no, she has nothing to do with Arushi murder case,though her name reminds me of the fact that CBI is a ‘jhund’ organization and shouldn’t even be  allowed to take the case of missing lunch boxes in primary schools)

ARUSHI CHADDHA, a brief description:-

-Daddiji owns Kirodimal stores all over south Delhi. So, is rich. But, more like Hyundai -i 20 rich, not Mercedes C class rich.
-Uncle’s sister in law’s brother’s wife has seen Japan(and she believes it’s something the entire nation should know).
-elder brother is an NRI. Lives in Bangladesh.
-big fan of Shahrukh Khan and Robert Pattinson (why the fuck am I not surprised).
-smarter than most of the girls in Orissa.
-fairer than most of the girls in Orissa.
-regularly visits places like CCD and Barista. Places, local boys take their girlfriends only after they ‘ve promised to blow them.

Somewhere down the line, I wasn’t happy with my friend‘s relationship with Arushi. For one, seeing your friend holding hands with a hot chick isn’t exactly a great sight, stirs up bad emotions. Secondly, it’s too risky to date girls who have been in relationships before, because these girls have both experience and expectations .That’s where my boy made the mistake .He fell for a girl whose list of boyfriends is longer than the list of Rasputin’s rape victims.
After my friend started dating, the person whose life got messed the most was mine.I was made to follow them everywhere they went. I don’t know why ,may be because they didn’t want to feel cheap in public places or may be my friend wanted me as a witness  so that in case his girlfriend dumps him he could use me as an alibi and bitch about her.
People after commitment become disgustingly boring. The only thing they talk about is their girlfriend. I mean ,why the fuck should I care if her mom was a beauty pageant winner in her college days or that her friend’s boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s boy friend was caught with a chick by police behind some bushes in Barunei or that she has a participation certificate from Ramdev baba’s yoga  competition .Here’s the thing. Never tell your friend about your girlfriend or/and your love problems. Because no matter how good a friend he is of yours ,he gives jack shit about your love issues unless of course if you are planning to include him in a threesome.
When my friend didn’t talk about his girlfriend he talked to his girlfriend. And he made me listen to their conversations. During those difficult times I felt like  thanking the Russians for inventing  the Russian roulette and hoped these two start playing the game till one or both of them drop dead. There was this one time when she called during our exam time.
Arushi- hi,baby .whatzzz you doing?
My friend-nothing, studying for exams.
Arushi- you know yesterday I went to LEELA’S and they had this dress which looked exactly like the one Emma stone was wearing at the Comicon.
My friend-listen, I really need to pass tomorrow. so,if you  could stop fucking my future and  hang up I would be grateful
Arushi-jaa saale behenchhod tujhse baat nahi karti………………
A word of  advice. Never date a girl from Delhi. She might be hot and all, but she for sure knows more slangs than you. Kind of hurts your ego.

There was this other time when Arushi wanted three of us to  have dinner at some fancy  restaurant. Neither me nor my friend was interested because let’s face it, for guys like us, who had never been beyond dhabas ,mainland china was a rather costly affair. But she kept pestering us and one day dropped by unannounced  and  asked us to get ready. When my friend resisted, she said “baby if Michelangelo had said no every day, he would never have painted the sixteen chapel”.
I blurted out-“first of all that’s Sistine chapel and not sixteen chapel, but I don’t see why you would care”
She stared at me and then at her boyfriend and said” your friend is such a snob. If he thinks he is such a smartass then why is he studying at that third rate college”. It was one of those moments when you feel like jumping off the building only to realize that it’s a one storied building and the best you can achieve is a broken leg. And now, that I am about to complete my education I don’t know how  a physically handicap quota will help me.

Anyways we went to mainland china to  eat.I don’t know ,may be the girl thought we had won the grand prize from  Shri Satya Sai lottery or something ,she started ordering items that the entire district of Kalahandi would never have heard of .the bill that came was my entire family’s monthly grocery bill. Etiquette says the girl shouldn’t pay. But fuck etiquette, we didn’t  have the money. And besides, who owns Kirodimal stores in Delhi, my father or her father. My friend asked if i had enough money.
I replied” dude, nowadays I don’t even have enough money to watch porn at Daljit’s café.”
We, however managed the money and escaped dreadful possibilities. After that they dated for a few months and then broke up. It was nothing dramatic. The usual run off the mill stuff. We passed out of our college. She got bored of my friend and started dating some guy from her college. My friend started calling everyone he knew and told them what a slut she was, cried for a few days and then went back to beer, porn and Floyd.

From the above story we conclude love can be dangerous. Love can lead to slap from parents, gossip of neighbors, jealousy of friends if your girl is hot and humiliation if she is not, academic failure, economic downfall, heart burn and in some cases genital herpes or gonorrhea .So, don’t fall in love because simple laws of physics have taught us no matter where you fall or into what you fall, you are bound to get hurt.


The world suffers from global terrorism, migration, environment pollution, race bias, resource crunch. Amidst the chaos humanity keeps asking the same question it has been asking for millions of years now …………………………How to screw women? How to score? How to get laid? Because no matter what the state of the world is or would be, no matter how many tsunamis, Katrinas or earthquakes come and go ,any man with a functional libido has only one problem of prime and immediate importance,..Women. But guys, this column isn’t about that. If you want to know how to impress girls write in your queries to   grihashobha or if you are capable of understanding words such as euphemism and thingamajig then go for Vogue or call the radio jockey of your station. The guy addressing your problem has never been within 50 meters of distance of a woman or  is probably gay .He will tell you “impress her with your personality , be more expressive of your and always remember, true love always wins”. In short crap lifted off from mills & boons. And only gays read mills and boons. If you have Mills and Boons in your rack, or Twilight or a walk to remember, and then beware fellas, Ramdev doesn’t like your type. There is a high probability he might become the PM and then you will be screwed. Now back to our problem. Indian males are pretty tolerant .they have adjusted to the fact that Indian women do not shave, most of them have excess facial hair ,some of them have moustaches, their bad fashion sense, their constant low brows to boys who stalk them. They have suffered public humiliation and sometimes even jail. Yet they failed to score. This is my perspective on why success never kissed their asses and what not to do when you are trying on a woman.

Don’t try to be smart ass.women aren’t the next stage of evolution. They aren’t the most intellectual beings on earth. They are quite the contrary. So try talking Tolstoy and you will be risking virginity. You don’t expect women to appreciate your intellect. Because let’s face it people don’t generally appreciate virtues they don’t themselves possess.there must be some reason as to why no Nobel laureate, booker winner or nuclear scientist never landed on a hot piece of ass. Women go for rich people, famous people, and glamorous people but never for smart people.

Mr. KOOL? nobody fuckin cares  ……your listening to Black Sabbath doesn’t qualify you for a blowjob from the neighborhood girl. So, if you are hoping your mugging up the names of all the south park characters will  someday  help you screw a woman, then I think I have bad news for you. Women don’t find rock band freaks or movie fanatics interesting. Rather they find them boring. Because they can’t relate to it. The farthest woman civilization has gone in terms of moving arts is twilight. Plus, I have been personally looking for these pricks who believe listening to rock songs or watching Stanley Kubrick’s flicks elevates them to some effluent class, so that I can kick them in their already small balls  and shrink them further.

Don’t be a cheapo: women will happily eat even dog shit if it has a heavy price tag attached to it.so,take them to a restaurant that charges 85 fucking bucks for  a cup of coffee. Your intensity  of buying them gifts is proportional to the tenure of relationship. Wear expensive branded clothes no matter how comical the designs are. They are the first signal to a woman, telling “baby, I’ve got money”.

Facebook  can’t get you laid my dear: the reason Mark Zuckerberg  became a billionaire was that a group of a million nerds actually thought that sending anonymous friend requests to random women can help them lose virginity. How can liking the pics of her mom and dad on Facebook improve your chances anyways ?nevertheless  people keep pressing the like button on anything that comes up on a  chick’s profile page.

Blogging   doesn’t make you cool: people ask me about  tips on blogging(yeah ,that happens)
I tell them” don’t you have a life pissholes”. They tell me girls find it cool. Are you kidding me? Half the women on earth don’t even know what blogging means.real women hardly use internet. Whenever they do they use it  to check mehndi  designs on Google(trust me, true story)besides, bloggers are  the second most useless group on earth. The first ,well they are one sided lovers.you don’t require talent to be a blogger, you just need free time. Unemployed youngsters are most suited for these kind of activities. And the chance that she will actually go on to understand  the stuff you have written on your blog is like one in a million

Never tell a girl that she is wrong: girls are creatures with low self esteem. They show off  by wearing  branded clothes, picking up fake accents ,deliberately talking in English in public places to sound cool, because this is their only way to impress. So, they talk about how they spent their holidays in Hawaii, about some fat ass uncle who bought them some branded  dress whose name they can hardly pronounce, the number of guys who are stalking them. So, never tell them that wearing jeans with floral designs is considered fashionable only in Congo,and its not  biskoot  it’s biscuit. People don’t like being told that their desperate attempts at being cool are actually a publicly displayed joke, especially girls.
Girls love foreign. Associate you with anything foreign and chicks will jump right into you. Here’s a sample

Girl 1:you know my boyfriend is in Gangtok
Girl 2: so, what does he do there.
Girl 1: who cares? As long as its Gangtok I don’t mind if he cleans the toilet there.
Girl2: can you even locate Gangtok on the map?
Girl l 1:no.but it’s somewhere in America.
Girl  2: honey ,Gangtok is in India
 Girl 1: oh! Bummer.

Myth:girls like handsome boys  with a good sense of humor.
Truth : girls like handsome boys  with a good sense of humor who have money to blow.

That ladies and gentlemen brings us to the end of this article.i can’t tell you  what to do to hook up with a girl.because if I knew I would be screwing my way through women rather than  writing stupid articles on shitty issues.and besides, how desperate you have to be to take advice on women from a virgin.
P.S :-“SWEETY SWEETY SWEETY tera pyaar chaaahidaa”- Delhi Belly

My experiments with social service

For the last 21 years I was too busy with self service to care for social service. But after this Anna Hazare movement I was highly inspired and also a bit surprised. Inspired, because it brought down a system and made it to kneel before the common man. Surprised because Anna Hazare turned out to be a 70 year old man and not some 20 year old chick.(Now, after this joke on Anna Hazare, I might get kicked by the Delhites and kissed by Gujarat opposition leaders.)

Anyway, I suddenly realized ,apart from my urine I hadn’t given much to society. So, I decided I would spend more time ,serving the needy and the poor, work for the upliftment of slum dwellers(-the ones who go to theatres and pass comments in a language ,upper middle class women have never heard of).Well, anyhow I came across this organization where youngsters like me volunteered for social cause. Sounds good. But as it turned out, it wasn’t.

On my first visit, I entered their office- a multicolored one storied building with four rooms painted in bright colors. I was disgusted. I mean what sane person, if he is not gay, paints his walls with pink and orange colors. Similar rooms were last used in early 1920s for shooting Japanese porn flicks.

 I was there to attend their first meet of the year. As I entered the concerned room I saw 20 odd nerdy looking people .The meeting started. The founder and in charge of the organization started telling us how this organization came into being, how they had done some incredible social work, how  he  had been  honored in every country that is a part of the commonwealth and every country that is not.He went on for an hour. The people in that room had started bearing expressions ,which said   “go on, we stopped listening an hour ago”. Meanwhile I thought to myself, what the fuck was I doing there ,except for the fact that there were hot chicks in there. After the meeting they had a group discussion to plan for the various events which went somewhat like this.

……………………”hey….ouchhh……….I say…….arrey,what listen to me …………..I think our propaganda……….that plantation program…….I have seen this ultimate video about cleaning in Estonia………….Estonia  my ass you fucker……………..how dare you call me a fucker,you whore………………..I personally believe in order to arrive at something  tangible we have to get rid of this boorish attitude, stop mucking up with the issues and  end this internecine sniping within the party…………………now why is that fucker talking in French………………………………………that ain’t  French you semi literate bitch……………………blah blah blah……………………………………fu@#…………….m@ther#@&*@#$………………..teri maa ka..@#$@##……………………………………….

After 20 minutes of a fierce intellectual discussion the group failed to come to a conclusion. The leader of the pack however took control of the situation and laid down his ideas of what was to be done that year. Thus begun those 40 minutes of your life where you seriously start doubting the credibility of the timing devices around. The clocks and watches just didn’t seem like moving. It was 6 ‘o’ clock. On any other day, I would be listening to how one of my friends had an MMS of a former classmate or how my friend’s girlfriend wasn’t letting him bang her. But there I was, listening to much of what made  no sense to me. I focused on his speech for five minutes and then shifted my focus to ……….well, putting it modestly, the upper torso of the female body right in front of me. After he finished his speech, I started analyzing their plans. They were going  to plant trees on both sides of some highway, ask students from nearby English medium schools to come and read in a library they had created, and play tree man-a program where one of the volunteers dressed in a  tree costume roamed around in malls talking about importance of trees. I didn’t understand. I mean, what’s the point in planting trees on roads when Govt is going to cut them all within months in the name of road expansion. What’s the point in inviting children from upper middle class families to read, while millions of children are living a wretched life with no books, no food, no future. What’s the point in making some poor guy wear weird costumes and then make him roam in malls and ruin his chances of getting laid ever. Was it honest idiocrisy (as jay leno once said god must love idiots. He created so many of them) or was it deliberate hypocrisy.

I felt for those guys. Unfortunately, the feeling was nausea. Those guys like any other half baked self certified revolutionary were desperate. Desperate to help. Not some poor fellow being  but themselves. They were desperate to add meaning to their own nonexistent faceless state of being. This is a race to prove people that we are here, that we know and that we matter. The desperation in doing social service in youth is the same desperation they have to enter some shit show on MTV and get spanked by balding twins. The motive behind both these above endeavors  is same, the urgency to sound cool. Half a million good for nothing college students joined Anna Hazare page on facebook  hoping  some random chick would take notice and they would have a chance to score.

Some of my facebook friends are still supporting the Egypt revolution. Someone has probably forgotten to tell them that the revolution is long over. Same is the case with the gooks of the-you know what – organization and other so called youth movements where the need to respond to a social cause arises from self obsession.
And before I end, this “you know what “organization had some other baffling programs. The volunteers painted on public walls some weird stuff which nobody understood; though they strongly claimed they were on social issues. Those walls are currently being used by the local public for peeing. Another program was where people from different countries told stories to 8 year olds. Imagine an Israeli chick telling stories in English with a strong accent to children who can barely understand their own mother tongue .How the fuck did they pull that off, I could never know. I didn’t last that long.

{A SHORT MESSAGE TO MY FRIENDS OF YOU KNOW WHAT ORGANIZATION-it’s not cool to copy the logo of Navneet textbooks and the fat chick who was sitting next to me that day was smelling really bad. She should consider taking bath. Now you can all go back to your state of being pointless. Thank you}


Some questions can be debated forever without any convincing answer, like whether Justin Bieber has got dick down his pants or tits under his shirt; or how on earth could  Dabaang be a hit. A similar question cropped up in my mind few days back. Should I have taken engineering as a career or could I have done better with my life. I was good in History, Geography or even English. I could have taken Arts. But the civil society of India refrains any self respected person securing more than 50% in his/her intermediate, from doing Arts. The Arts bracket now belongs to  guys who have decided to spend the rest of their lives off their dad’s  money to those unfortunate ones who couldn’t cheat enough to clear their +2 to those who have taken  the statement “education ruins intelligence” a bit too seriously.

Indian parents like Indian filmmakers, politicians and scientists lack originality and stuck to stereotype. Mine wanted me to study engineering. And I had to comply. However I had no idea that some 15, 93,763 odd dumbfucks also wanted to study engineering. The result was obvious. I didn’t get into the IITs, or the NITs, or the VIT or RV College or MS Ramiah or KIIT or Silicon or ITER or…………….OK STOP. The list is pretty long. My parents didn’t know what to do with my AIEEE rank which was also the population of Sikkim. The reasons of my failure were –  only 4896 seats in the IITs(hell,the tent house near my house has more number of seats),Late Mr. V P Singh’s political ambitions(the motherfucker introduced quota),tuition teachers who mugged up H C Verma  at night  and vomited  in front of us,Arihant books which were so costly I didn’t bother to buy them and of course my interest in college girls being a little more than the college books.

Amazingly after you have been rejected from each and every elite institution of the country you get a lot of choices in colleges. It is then pretty much like shopping for china made handsets. Looking at those colleges you can be sure that these colleges must have been designed by the students of those very colleges. There is therefore a cone shaped college, a pyramid shaped college, a cylinder shaped, and a brick shaped one and even some that roughly looked like male and female sex organs. Apparently the architects concerned had taken full liberty in molesting the college and the noble Euclidian Geometry with structural designs that wouldn’t have got approval even in Somalia. If there structures weren’t enough torture there was the names. Lovely, Maharaja, Black Diamond, Queen aren’t the names of Red Light areas around. They are the names engineering colleges. And the gals and guys studying there aren’t prostitutes and pimps though most of them might make you feel otherwise. Anyways I and my parents looked around for colleges that would be interested in taking me in. After much hassle a generous college was kind enough to grant me admission. My college, Krupajal, which by its name sounded more like Swami Nityanand ‘s ashram looked like BMC office in dire need of repair. It wasn’t exactly a “bhaiyaa ji smile” moment for me looking at my college. Nor did it help when my lecturers dictated notes in English only MLA’S of Bihar can relate to. But hell, fuck with it. My college and its cartoons require a 465 page novel on it which I am not interested in writing. Besides, I am not Chetan Bhagat who believes its cool banging your wife before marriage and the world deserves to know about it. The focus of this article is about private engineering colleges in my city and its students. Idiots from different spectrums of society gather in these colleges hoping that their nonexistent career and single digit marks will find some respect here.

 Students here can be divided into 2 broad categories. Boys and girls. (Other categories like gays, lesbians, transsexuals, cross dressers haven’t revealed themselves in public yet.)  Local girls hailing from places such as Kalahandi, Bolangir behave as if they are from Southampton or California. Girls from  Bihar behave like they are from Bihar. Then there are the guys. Three days into porn and they start believing that they are the most sophisticated guys on the plant. Wearing fake branded t shirts and embroidered jeans they roam around in second hand mopeds behaving like they deserve a hot girlfriend and a good fuck. Reality being tier -3 engineering students are like Nepali watchmen. People watch them but don’t take them seriously neither their job. 

Indian education system which hasn’t been taken seriously since Mountbatten died and Kapil Sibal’s deliberate experiments with education laws so that he can sit with Nidhi Razdan and explain why he fucked it up in the first place has left the engineering students and student fraternity of other fields well fucked with a curriculum that would make any decent educationist say” had you taken hashish when you were writing the syllabus. “Any ways after completing their degree the students from Orissa, Bihar go to Mumbai and likewise places to get thrashed by saffron wearing unemployed counterparts. Moral of the story is whether or not TCS has employed you as a part of its corporate social responsibility scheme,  your average Joe life as well as mine  sucks .Like it or not, we are all going to join the aam admi brigade.aam admi-the ones who cry each time onion price rises.

And finally…………………………………

No Google doesn’t visit my campus. No we are not a deemed university. My college didn’t have enough money to bribe the UGC guys. No I still do not  know the name of the chick who performed on star nite and yes her cleavage was visible.69% of the students of my university are still unemployed and yes engineering sucks.

DISCLAIMER:-The writer doesn’t intended to offend any community, caste ,religion or profession. All other shit that is displayed before a controversial movie is shown, is also included here. Besides a gentleman is one who can take a joke on him and not sulk……….or suck.

Love ,Backs aur Dhokhaa

I was in love. True love. Much like the previous 143 times. My college wasn’t exactly the hangout option for Gucci clad, 24 36 24 flaunting, fake accent shitting hotties. So, I had to spend  my entire  first year fantasizing about  women with hot gate pics on orkut(most of whom I later came to know were fake accounts).But much  like Yuvraj Singh’s form, Salman Khan’s list of girlfriends ,IMF’s policies and Jammu and Kashmir ‘s political status ,which have no father and mother to account for, and keep changing, my luck changed too. And thankfully, this time for the better, or so I thought. I saw her. Comp. Sc ,1st year. She wasn’t a looker exactly. But the victims of Ethiopian famine don’t go expecting cheese hamburgers, do they?

One bright morning I told myself, if I had to lose my virginity for free I had to hook up with a girl. Hence I mustered all my courage and I proposed her. And holy mother of god she said yes. That was the happiest day of my life .But my happiness did a somersault and jumped into Indian Ocean to drown when she suggested we go on our first date to CCD. Now, analysts have suggested that the real cause behind recession was places like Barista and CCD and evil women who forcefully dragged men to eat at those places causing huge budget deficit. I had heard scary bedtime stories from my granny about people who went to CCD and were unable to pay their bills. They were then made to wash utensils. I shuddered at the reality of those stories. We went on our first date.

She started talking  “look Bangalore is like ma second home. I go there every month. Bangalore is classy. Not like Bhubaneswar –dirty. Dirty Dirty Dirty.ma aunty went to like Italy and bought me a pair of like really cool stilettos.’……………….there was this guy in 7th grade who like had a crush on me. He was like totally cool. He proposed me but then I said what the hell……………”.
She talked about things that that didn’t concern me, that didn’t concern her,that didn’t concern any person living or dead for that matters. While she was talking nonsense, I looked at the bill that had arrived. The bill amount was approximately equal to my annual pocket money. I had to pay the bill with the money I had kept for buying new undies .My older ones had big holes in them that left my genitals exposed. The realization of the fact that I had to compromise on my underwear   for a girl who was practically dumb didn’t help much. But that wasn’t a surprise after all. Researchers have found out that 97% of women have an IQ quotient that would put the entire humanity to shame.

The next  few months were pure torture. My transportation bills were more than sabita bhabi’s onion bills. My condition  was even worse than Lehman brothers and  Merlyn lynch put together.I was so broke that I had to take lift from autowallahs.i hadn’t seen my college  since ages.Most of my classmates refused to believe I was a student of that college.When results got out I found out I had managed a feat.Both my cgpa and no of backs I had were being represented by the same number-4.
But then one day I saw her roaming around with another guy.I confronted her.She replied”look you are a good guy.But you are dumb.half the stuff you said I never understood.plus you look like brian Murphy on a diet.and that bhanu ,he has  a pulsar 180.i think we should break up”
That was it.3 months of exploration of virtually every CCD that existed in Bhubaneswar,4 BACKS,3000 bucks of investment with no real return,no kiss,no grope,no………ah  .well leave it ………had ended this way……………………………in my freedom.it felt like 15th august.pulsar 180 had saved my life.i prayed for that bhanu guy  and left .

Moral :girls are nuts.The phenomenon is universal.So,if you do  find a girl hot enough to compensate for the losses and if you have enough money left  after paying for vodka, back paper registrations, cheat paper Xeroxes ,do fall in love.
In an unrelated news pulsar 180 is a good bike.