Reflections On Mankind: An Introduction

crowd of peoplePeople all over the world are clutching their falling pants and wiping their runny noses while trying to hold back tears of joy. That’s all I’m going to say about my vanishing act and my subsequent return today. I’m back. Let’s not read too much into that.

During this hiatus, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I’ve thought about the way fans turn and cigarettes burn. I’ve thought about a lot of things that people seem to have forgotten – the fact that vehicles on the road are actually driven by people. One of the best things that could have happened to me, happened this morning, as I was fighting for my life on the roads of Bangalore. I was locked in a fight to the death on my bike with three buses on a road that was wide enough for just one of them. Just as I narrowly avoided killing one of the buses with my not-so-well-aimed kick and sped through the rapidly-closing gap between another bus and the road divider, the image of a family of giraffes dressed in human clothes floated into my head.

Giraffe wearing clothesNow, it is a strange enough image to float through one’s head at any other point of time, but images that float through heads know no Earthly rules of propriety and timing. They are very rude, inviting themselves in unannounced. As it happened, this particular floating image called itself into existence seemingly out of nowhere, and lodged itself permanently (for the time being) in my peripheral vision.

I urged the bike to race ahead, leaving the three buses to fight among themselves, and for the remainder of my ride, tried to decipher the meaning of a family of giraffes who were dressed in human clothes. I arrived at a satisfying explanation after a few minutes:

Maybe Earth as we know it, is a zoo. A big, very big zoo. And all of us are the inhabitants. Maybe there’s a planet out there inhabited solely by monkeys. Another planet inhabited by elephants. And so on and so forth. Someone decided to take a few specimens of each of these species and put them all together in a vast zoo, and charge a fee to visit us and view how we’ve learned to live together. A very cool version of Noah’s Ark, without the drama. Maybe the little giraffe in the red baseball cap wanted to visit the zoo for his birthday.

If you’re wondering what you just read, and wondering if I still serve any purpose as a funny guy, then I don’t blame you. When you reflect on mankind, you start seeing a lot of strange things where logic and reason cease to exist.

Over the next few days/weeks/months, I’ll outline in detail my view on humanity and everything that matters, and I hope to demonstrate a pattern of ridiculousness that we have come to accept as our natural state of being. I do this in the hope of convincing a few of you to join me in the quest for insanity.

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The Yamaha Enema

Reshaped Hip BoneTake my advice – if you have to travel for more than 3 miles inside the city of Bangalore, do not – I repeat – do not ride pillion on a Yamaha bike. Its been three hours since I’ve gotten off the bike after a 15-mile ride and I’m still walking slowly with my legs wide apart, wincing at every step and groaning at every fart.

I woke up at my friend’s place after an awkward evening with some close friends and my ex girlfriend. See what I mean by awkward? We ignored each other thoroughly (it was surprisingly easy to do) and spent the evening at opposite corners of the room, making conversations with common friends and our scotch glasses alternatively. I am usually very comfortable in social situations, but in this case, I was surprised we didn’t kill each other with blunt objects. It was a bad break-up and yes, you guessed right. It was one of the many reasons why I haven’t blogged in a while. Some people are hard to get over in life, and with the kind of history we’d shared, trying to forget this woman was particularly hard. But I’m glad it’s over and I’m glad the hate has trickled out of me to be replaced with the warmth of indifference. 🙂

Anyway, I digress. I woke up in the morning in my friend’s place and took an auto home, showered, shaved, put on some underwear and went out again. This time to the bank. After which, for some unknown sin of mine, my ass was subjected to torture the likes of which Guantanamo Bay has never seen before.

I was riding pillion on a friend’s bike – I was sitting on a bike after a good two-month break and it felt strange, alien. We had an hour’s journey ahead of us and I managed quite well, with minimal squirming. Each speed-breaker was a gift from heaven as I could jump up with the bike and shift my buttocks a bit to ease the gnawing pain. Once we reached our destination, we got some work done and headed back. One more hour’s ride in Bangalore traffic. My ass died a painful death. I’m lying on my stomach while typing this.

I got off the bike on reaching home, held my legs apart and felt the blood rushing into my ass-cheeks and the soft tissue just above the knee (I don’t know what this part of the body is called). My hipbone had undergone a major structural realignment and it is now shaped like a bike seat. Refer to the image for a better understanding.

So, I’m here at home, on my tummy, waiting for the world’s greatest woman to come online and dreaming of perfectly-shaped hipbones. Sigh.

Image Courtesy: Secret Government Labs. I can tell you but then I’ll have to kill you.

Return Of The Yo-Yo: The Yellow School Bus :)

Three interesting things happened yesterday, which forced me to come out of my forced hibernation and write a post, in order to enlighten the world about the interesting things that happened yesterday. By the way, I’ve been experimenting with redundancy in my sentences, and I think it’s working quite well.

1. The Yellow School Bus:

school-bus1:30 in the afternoon, melting under the unusually hot sun in the middle of Bangalore, sitting hunched up in a tiny auto with two other people, afraid to move for fear of falling out of the ridiculous excuse for a motor vehicle, and wondering when the horror would end. We were on our way to a meeting and the ride would normally take 40 minutes. But yesterday, we stuck behind a yellow school bus for most of the journey, and took us close to 90 minutes to reach. Once we reached, we had to resort to acrobatic stunts (that would’ve made the Russian gymnastic team from the last Olympics Games proud) to get out.

I didn’t give it much thought at that time, mainly because I was too busy setting my spine in order, but then, as the day wore on, I realized it was something ominous.

2. The Yellow School Bus:

school-bus5:15 in the evening, stuffed into a small white cab, driving back to office after the tremendously long and boring meeting, and wondering when the horror would end. The ride back to office usually takes just 30 minutes because of the general lack of traffic in that direction. But yesterday, we were stuck behind a yellow school bus for most of the way, and it took us more than an hour to get back.

I was beginning to think something was up. I glanced up at the sky and heard the faint hint of laughter fading away. Was the yo-yo trend coming back? I shuddered and ran into the safety of my cubicle.

3. The Yellow School Bus:

school-bus9:30 in the night, loud music blaring through my ear plugs, I was riding my rickety bike back home. the roads were surprisingly devoid of traffic last night and I was beginning to think that I’d make it back home well before the usual one-and-a-half hours it takes me. But then, I got stuck behind three yellow school buses that were rolling gently in the middle of the narrow road, leaving me with no chance to overtake them. I didn’t bother honking. I resigned to my fate and thankfully for the heavy music, I did not hear the cacophonous laughter up above.

Open Question: Am I ‘down-to-earth’ if I give up my suit and tie for tattered jeans and T-shirts and fly to the next town in a helicopter?

Oops, He Did It Again! :)

Deve Louda Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!
Deve Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!

Every country has it’s fair share of jackass politicians and India perhaps has the most. Topping the list of overachievers is the supremely anal Deve Louda Gowda. He was the Prime Minister of the country a while back, and during his stint, India stooped to an all time low. He was notorious for disrupting the lives of the citizens with his absurd political campaigns and crap-all marches. Last night, he outclassed himself by holding the entire city at ransom. Here’s what transpired two days prior to the incident:

Scene: Deve Louda Gowda’s toilet.

For sake of convenience, we’ll refer to him as Fuckhead.

Fuckhead is sitting on the pot and trying to forget the past 15 painful minutes. At his age, he realizes that he shouldn’t be eating spicy curry for dinner lest he goes through this marathon session in the toilet again. He has his laptop on his knees and he is reading MirrorCracked – his daily dose of laughter. He reads this post called “Living In Ghost Town,” where the author has written about how empty the roads of Bangalore were and how he’s so happy that he reached his office in half an hour, instead of the usual one hour.

Fuckhead frowns and hatches a plan to make that author’s life miserable. He calls it Operation Manic Monday.

On the 17th of November, he holds the biggest political rally in his miserable career. Worse still, he holds this rally in the heart of the city – Palace Grounds. Three hundred and fifty thousand people thronged to the rally from all around Bangalore (Please note: People came from all around Bangalore, not from Bangalore. Over 1000 vehicles, including 400 buses were allowed into the city carrying the hopeful and the misinformed villagers.)

Roads are choked and the entire city comes to a standstill, in the biggest traffic management disaster the city has ever seen. Fuckhead smiles in satisfaction.

“The author of MirrorCracked has been taken care of,” he says to his personal assistant. “No longer will he write about Bangalore roads being empty. I have triumphed.”

The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs were shocked and angered at this cruel, below-the-belt tactic that Fuckhead employed. They think that Deve Louda Gowda is jealous of Nikhil’s sexy beard and the luxuriant hair on his head. Maybe…

Living In Ghost Town

ghost_town
Bangalore - The New Ghost Town

For two days in a row, I have had this feeling that I’m living in a ghost town. The shortest distance from my house to my office is 18 kilometers (around 15 miles), and for the past 7 months, the shortest time I’ve taken to drive from one place to the other is 1.2 hours. So, you can imagine my surprise when, on the 13th of November, I reached my office in 27 minutes.

I parked my bike and looked around just to reassure myself that I was really there. While returning home that night, I took 30 minutes. I could not sleep a wink. The roads had been strangely devoid of people; for the longest stretches, mine was the only bike. No pedestrians, green lights all the way, no hot chicks on the sidewalk, nothing. I finally dismissed the incident as an anomaly.

When the same thing yesterday, I got scared. Where the hell is everybody?

pharaoh1
The Pharaoh Look

That was when it struck me – I have a Pharaoh look going for the past three days, and I think I’ve been cursed. The thin striptease of a beard running down my chin probably sparked angry protests among the dead Pharaohs and they want revenge for my lack of respect. They’re probably playing mind games on me. Shit! I need some help!

If I don’t post anything for the next two days, you can safely assume that I’m dead.

Thanks For All The Spit!

There comes a time in every PR guy’s quotidian life when he questions himself thus:

  1. Who am I?
  2. What am I supposed to be doing?
  3. Where are my pants?

I did this yesterday and realized that I could answer two-thirds of the above questionnaire and felt very happy about myself. Just because I am in a good mood, I will share my responses with you.

Who am I?

A mildly confused, over-ambitious, relatively ignorant (I ignore my relatives), slightly overweight, extremely shortsighted, creatively challenged, socially active, coffee guzzling, beer loving, nicotine liking, technologically superior neanderthal. I wear worn-out clothes to work. My clients like me and the media is noncommittal, but I’m sure they like me too. I care deeply for a few people and for a few people, my care runs shallow.

What am I supposed to be doing?

Apparently, I am supposed to be working hard, trying to pretend that I know what I am doing. I accomplish this task with a positive nonchalance.  I am supposed to be wrapping up the day’s work early, today being a Friday. I am supposed to be thinking of newer pick-up lines for the sweet girl who thinks I am being not serious when I say I like her a lot.

Where are my pants?

I have no idea. Someone stole a pair of my jeans yesterday night, when they had been hung out to dry. The only reason I had washed them in the first place was because someone spit on them. Yup, you read it right. Someone spit on them. Stuck in traffic yesterday morning at 8:00 am, on my way to work, I was thinking how a day could begin any worse.

Just when the thought crossed my mind, I heard someone clear their nose and take a deep snort and spit out a major blob of sputum. It so happened that this environmentally conscious citizen was sitting at a window seat of a crowded bus and that window just happened to be right where I was standing. The blob of spit landed on my left leg, just above the ankle and forced me to lose my temper, scream at that guy, show him the finger thrice and call him a ‘Fuck-headed fucker.’

I returned home, put the pants in the washer and came to work late. I went back home at night to discover that someone had stolen the pair of pants. I pity whoever stole them.

Thanks for all the spit, you fuck-headed fucker. 😀

Aaargh!!

The past 48 hours have been terrible, to say the least! I am so frikkin frustrated! I am going to take it all out here, venting the steam, ranting and raving about the little injustices of life and the fact that a simple moment of calm can be so elusive! Aaargh! I am so full of shit ..er… er… I mean, I am so full of anger!

Monday started as usual, with the blues and my suicidal mood. I woke up groggily at around 8, reluctantly took a shower, which, unfortunately, woke me up, thus ruining my mood further. I snapped at everyone in the office and was in a lousy mood for most of the day. A long day in the office and at nine in the night, when I reached home, I was in a worst mood of my life. I attributed it to my weekend exploits and the consequent hangover! 😀

Tuesday was slightly better to start off, and got worse as the day wore on. A long, long drive to meet a client, who lived on another planet for all the trouble, and then the drive back in bumper-to-bumper traffic on a stifling, hot day ensured that my mood would be no better than the previous day.

I started pulling my hair out at around 2 in the afternoon, when for the tenth time, the power failed and the computers shut down in the office. At 2.30, when I had around twenty strands of hair on my head, my computer crashed: “Boot Sector Fail” screamed the monitor at me and shut itself down, never to boot again. In my head, I smashed the screen of the computer, smashed the whole computer into tiny pieces, set fire to it and danced around the make-shift bonfire butt naked, singing a native African tribal war song, and then pee’d on the fire. But in reality, I just sat there in front of the computer with a strange smile on my face and humming the African war song softly. My colleagues thought I was nuts. 😀

Then, when I went to smoke, I realized I didn’t have any matches. I walked across the street to buy a box of matches, only to realize that I had left my wallet back at my workplace. I mooched a light of some other loser who was smoking nearby, and went back to the office, and realized that the power had failed again and the AC was not working. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and the hair on my head looked so promising and pull-able. My fingers itched! 😀

When I finally gave up and left for the day, my long drive back home became longer because the battery in my phone died and I had no music to listen to. The one hour drive from my office to my house became unbearable as the traffic was unnaturally pathetic. Oh, that’s not the end of it. If the day had ended thus, I’d have been happier! I was twenty minutes from my home when the skies opened up with all their fury and drenched me to the bone. The only thing I really hate about riding a bike in heavy rains is the small, irritating puddle of water that accumulates in my underwear, making my squirm in anger! Aaargh!!

I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow and woke up at 4 in the morning today. Great! Add insomnia to the list of disasters! My life sucks, doesn’t it! 😀