Sweating the Meltdown.

Bashing vs. Banking

After watching hotties Priety Zinta (Dimples) and Raveena Tandon( Musth Cheez) in a forum discussion on NDTV last night on what should be done now to our ailing, corrupt and inept politicians/Pakistan/bureaucrats et al, I went to bed thoroughly baffled that no one, NOT ONE person mentioned the gratuitous price reduction of a litre of auto fuel (petrol Rs.5.00 or 20 cents American and diesel Rs.2.00 all of 8 U.S. cents.)

Disappointed I went to bed. I woke up this morning experiencing several anxieties which I would like to share with my five and a half readers here in the hope that they will add up to enough for two whole chapters so that I can go back to sleep.

Anxiety A: Shri.Marathi Manoos, Jr.
As you probably know, Shri.Manoos Jr. is this person who started his own political party and wishes to take over the country.
This worries many people because his views are somewhat unorthodox. ( What I mean of course is that he is crazy as a loon.Where normal people have a brain, Marathi Manoos,Jr., has a Bash-a-Bihari video game.But I’d better not state this in public, as I do not wish to have his ardent followers beat me up with hockey sticks and steal my i-pod.)

Those of you who are frequent railway travelers are no doubt familiar with Shri.Manoos’s views.
Some time ago the Manoos people were not able to get their hands on a leaked copy of the railway entrance examination paper. So they sneaked up behind the applicants arriving from outside the state and bashed them with their own foot rulers and compass boxes and stabbed them with their ballpoint pens, in full view of the examiners, who of course did not object. Many of them probably helped out by bashing the out-of-towners with their own luggage.
The railway incident caused massive nationwide concern and anxiety because of the unorthodoxy of their views, which, as far as I can tell involved an item number by Monica Bedi of Abu Salem fame. Not that I personally see anything wrong with these views! No sir! I don’t even have an i-pod!

But then, two of Shri. Manoos’s closest friends were ex-Chief Minister Shri.Deshmurkh and the then Home Minister Shri.Shi*raj Patel, who has a soft corner for Manoos since they both have “Raj” in their names, which means “to rule”.

But we have to ask ourselves if we, as a nation can continue to ignore crazy people like Party Leader Manoos, with responsibilities which involve giving inflammatory speeches, driving an Audi and phoning his uncle every day to see if he's dead. Because if these people are allowed to win, they’ll go after more and more power, until someday instead of just blaming our neighbours our top national leaders will be going around babbling about laser beams from outer space.

So I call on you Mumbai Citizens to come to your senses before the general election and take responsible action in the form of building a guillotine or moving to a more intelligent state…. Arunachal. This is the perfect time to do so, thanks to the grand reduction in fuel prices.

Anxiety B: The Global Meltdown and Declining oil prices.
Like many Indians I viewed declining oil prices as the first real positive side-effect of the Global Meltdown, the next being P.Chidambaram (motto: there are lapses) who was mercifully shifted from Finance to Home.
But then I started reading articles by leading nervous investment bankers saying that dropping oil prices in the global market is a very bad sign, because it causes severe hardship to the following large organisations:
a) Saudi Arabia and other oil-rich nations in the Gulf.
b) The large oil-tanker manufacturers.
c) Indian-Oil and Hindustan Petroleum which of course are Public Sector “Undertakings”
d) The tax collection department.
e) The American oil cartels.
When I read this naturally my reaction as a concerned citizen, was hahahahahahahaha.

But I am going to explain to you why we really need to be worried about the detoriating oil prices. Thus far the international economy was based on the U.S. dollar, which was trusted and respected throughout the world because the Euro had not solidified as yet, and any Third World oil-rich nation who bartered their oil for anything other than the petro-dollar was invaded and their oil scavenged off to American companies. To be fair, the value of the dollar was dependent on the investment expertise of large U.S. banks, which gave huge sums to the Arabs to lose on goat fights, rooster fights and camel races.

This system worked well till recently when U.S. banks got cocky and also began doling out huge sums of money called sub-prime mortgages, to American homeowners who DID NOT not own oil-wells.
So now the banks are stuck with unpaid mortages and a lot of oil, which they are trying to get rid of by converting to credit cards which they offer to me. I get about five credit card offers from desperate banks every day. They even offer to send someone out to deliver it and wash my car.
I don’t know about you but I am not comfortable with the global economy being dependent on my credit card purchases.

So I think we need to rework the world economy but getting banks to start selling real estate and opening car-washes, and shopping malls- which accept credit cards, to take over the banking functions, such as lending money to fund sub-prime mortages and subsequently declaring bankruptcy.

Then we can buy petrol and diesel over the counter at the pharmacy, which will be sold to wealthy Chinese investors.
And Shri.Manoos will oversee this and control it by using laser beams from outer space.

India Burning

My fellow Indian Citizens! I wrote this interesting little nugget and would like to share with all of my wonderful fans out there.

Who am I kidding, NOBODY reads this drivel.

Sad to say but a former Patriotic Indian has switched over to the "Dark Side" and has decided not to vote ever again. Always a shame when that happens.

And now for your enjoyment I proudly present:

'National (In) Security we can believe in.'

I'm not voting because I believe the government can do a better job of spending the money I earn than I would.

I'm not voting because freedom of speech is fine as long as nobody (except a radical Hindu, Muslim, Christian or a Politician) is offended by it.

I'm not voting because when we send our cricket team to Pakistan I trust that the bad guys will stop what they're doing because they NOW think we're good people.

I'm not voting because I believe that people who can't safeguard our borders from just 10 (count them on your fingers - TEN) terrorists, talk about us being a superpower and play around sending rockets to the moon.

I'm not voting because I'm not concerned about the slaughter of innocents in Mumbai and the rape and slaughter of Christian in Orissa so long as we keep the Parliament attacker death row inmate alive for political expediency.

I'm not voting because I believe that business should NOT be allowed to make profits for stockholders (provident funds, employee benefits, etc). They need to break even and give the rest away to the government as excise, income, sales and service taxes for redistribution as government bureaucrats see fit i.e. the moon rocket and the time money and energy wasted on the Indo-US Nuclear agreements.

I'm not voting because I believe three or four pointy headed “Marathi Manooses” need to rewrite the Constitution every few days to suit some kooks and goondas who would NEVER get their agendas past level-headed voters.

I'm not voting because I believe that when the terrorists don't have to hide from us over THERE, and they come over HERE (and they ALREADY HAVE!), I do not even have a cricket bat in the house to fight them off, because all the armed security being provided in the country is only for the politician.

I'm not voting because I love the fact that I can drive any way I want on the roads and not follow any rules whatsoever.

I'm not voting because I believe oil companies' accumulated losses on every litre of gas is obscene, but the GOVERNMENT TAX on gas at 19% isn't.

I'm not voting because I don't want India to look at harnessing solar, wind and alternative energy to save it’s environment from degradation, but will continue to depend on importing petroleum products, as well as allowing other countries to use our shores as dumping grounds for their toxic wastes.

I'm not voting because I want the Parliament to continue to be adjourned to avoid any vote on aam aadmi betterment programmes.

I'm not voting because I believe that 500+ people most of whom have criminal records and whom I would not hire to clean my toilet, have enough combined experience to run the whole country!! (into the ground)

I'm not voting because we need a leader like our P.M. with the charisma and wisdom that tells us that India has yet to undertake police reforms and that, “existing laws will be tightened to ensure that there are no loopholes….” also that, “the PEOPLE of India will rise unitedly to face this grave challenge….” He never mentions the politicians. Now this is wisdom.' WOW!

I'm not voting because I WANT TO PAY for bad roads, improper town and country planning, power shortages, no running tap water, pollution of my environment, no law and order, non-existent health care, poor education, reservation policies. This too, is a legacy of wisdom bequeathed by our politicians for over 60 years of independence! DOUBLE WOW!

I'm not voting because I want to pay bribes to all those corrupt babus for any public service, licences, permits, papers I might need, to carry on my daily existence as a bona fide citizen of India. TRIPLE WOW!

But mostly I'm not voting because I'm happy for anyone who makes more illegal money than me; and I expect the government to help them make more through deals like the 3G Spectrum telecom scam, so that the Swiss Banks can add to the already more than 1.5 trillion dollars squirreled away by politicians and other notorious notaries in their notoriety, from India. So that when anarchy does finally reign supreme in this fair nation, they can happily live in luxurious comfort befitting political refugees in the good ol’ US of A. DRUMROLL… BADOM BADOM TISH!

See ya at the Malegaon blast hearings next week.

Thanks for looking,

To all those who died and gave their lives in this senseless massacre in Mumbai.... the whole world weeps with me, go with God and forever rest in peace.

Real nude pictures of Sarah Palin (not)

My friend Hodishi Takanaka called me yesterday and exulted, “Hey Ken San, You know the new Presiden’ of America is Barack”. I replied,” Yes,Hidoshi San,I know and do you know that he’s also African American.” To which he said,” I tole you jus’ now he was barrack, din you heah me!’ … Ok bad joke!

I always knew that the White House needed some colour, it was too bland thus far. Worse with George Bush in residence and due to neglect in the last 8 years both the White House and America started taking on a sort of greyish-yellow hue.

The new incumbent will need to be concerned about re-decorating, I’m thinking a nice pastel green might be in order, but he would need to scrape off the accumulated gunk before even starting.

A very important issue that Obama and indeed all of us need to be concerned about is the Global Financial Meltdown, and we will get to that shortly, but first we need to discuss what happened the other day in my back yard.

It began when I was in the garage searching for toilet paper (I keep toilet paper in the garage). Suddenly Arjun, the plumber, who also doubles as a part-time gardener shouted: ''There's a snake in the bushes!'' he may have been shouting, “There’s a tiger on my tail”, but he sounded pretty excited. My immediate response was: ''No, thanks! I’ve already had breakfast!'' But he kept jumping up and down on the compound wall so I decided to remedy the situation.
What is called for, by tradition, is for The Man of the House to put down his toilet paper and take charge.

I peeked over the backyard wall, and, sure enough, there was a large yellowish-grey thing, (that did not look remotely like Dick Cheney or any other White House inhabitant), slithering around, and sneaking under a rock. This was a perfect example of why -- no matter what you hear to the contrary -- private citizens have a legitimate need for machine guns. No single-shot air gun is going to bring down a slithering snake at close range. To stop one of those babies, you need to put a LOT of firepower into its hide.

Unfortunately, the only weapon I had was a stick. You know how, in Bollywood war movies, Hrithik Roshan, when it's time to go into battle, gives out a mighty yell and charges boldly forward with his shirt off, muscles bulging and head held high? Well, that is not what I did. I reached slowly into my pocket, careful not to make any sudden movements, and taking out my secret weapon, dialled the Forest Department. Then I made gentle hissing sounds in the direction of the snake designed to assure it that not only was I harmless, but I was also willing, if necessary, to cook it some dinner.

I then grabbed the stick and turned to face the snake just in case it decided to charge, and, looking into the hole into which it had slithered, I swear I saw that it had purple fangs and eyes, which were GLOWING.

When the Forest Department guy arrived he collaborated that this snake was large. This was by FAR the largest snake I have ever encountered.

Are you familiar with the movie ''Anaconda,'' in which Jennifer Lopez is part of a National Geographic survey of the jungle to capture the largest anaconda, a group of cardboard cutouts posing as actors bite off more than they can chew and get swallowed by an over sized and very agitated snake. That sums up the film. What looked like it may have been a flop was saved by a computer graphic snake upstaging all the actors and devouring them. Unfortunately J-Lo survived since she was too glamorous to be devoured and she would have made the snake look tame by comparison by throwing a hissy fit if she was to be eaten. Well, the snake in my backyard looked like it could have used that Anaconda as dental floss.

So anyway, when the snake-catcher coolly pulled out the snake with his bare hands and told me that the 9 foot monster snake was, in fact, a shy non-venomous rat snake, I knew exactly what to do. Specifically, I yelled: ''It's a rat snake!'' This was for the benefit of the neighbours. I'm sure the snake already knew what it was.
''Oh! And don't harm it!'' I told the snake- catcher for further effect.

So there, alone in the wilds of my backyard for a space of time, armed only with a stick, I almost went head-to-head with the Godzilla Devil Snake From Yamalaya. It clearly was not afraid of me. It looked right at me from under the rock in the aggressive, confident manner of a creature that, in the wild, preys on baby water buffalo.

How well did I handle myself? I certainly don't want to blow my own trumpet.
FOREST DEPARTMENT PERSON: Kenneth was very, very brave.

I have kept the stick handy in a corner just in case of another emergency, but I feel good that I also saved a rat snake from harm by calling the Forest Department.

So now the house is quiet again. I am uneasy however. I find myself wondering: Where did that thing COME from? What if there's SOMETHING MORE out there? A killer earthworm?

I frankly don't know how anyone can think about the Global Meltdown at a time like this.

P.S. The Palin headline was a marketing gimmick to see how many more of you would be drawn to read my BlogSpot:). HIDOSHI TANAKA: Confucius say, “Sucker born every minute not rorripop(LOLLIPOP)”

Banning the Butt

Smoke get's in your eyes - No More !

Congratulations Mr. Health Minister, I’m sure there’s a Bharat Ratna in there for you somewhere, given the zealousness with which you’ve pursued and now castigate smokers in India everywhere with your ban on smoking in public places.
Don’t get me wrong like the basic theories of Karl Marx and the tenets of Communism; this in itself is a good, nay a path-breaking precept.

Here’s the problem though: I-M-P-L-E-M-E-N-T-A-T-I-O-N.

As a ranking national opinion-maker, I tried to do my part to get people to stop smoking cigarettes. Was I successful? Nope. Why? Because people are not inclined to take advice from former chain-smokers.

Yes, I confess, mea culpa, I was an addict. My first cigarette was a Cool (mentholated with an activated- carbon filter, whatever that was). Think of it! Activated- carbon filter! No way could you get cancer from a cigarette like that!

Ramesh Tamakuwala gave it to me one day behind the garage at the fag-end (sic) of my summer hols. Words cannot describe how cool, macho and mature I felt, inhaling the smoke, then exhaling it, then inhaling, then exhaling, then -- in a major display of mature macho-coolness -- lying down in the dirt and puking for the next two hours.

That was my body's way of telling me that it personally did not care for a fag. But I did not listen to my body: I was determined to become a smoker. My reasoning was the same then as it is for teenagers today: Girls go for cool guys who smoke.

Take Superstar Rajnikant and his cigarette-flip-into-the-mouth trick which made the girls go, “Wow! What a man!” or the Japanese version which went something like this, “Sugoi desu ne! Ano otoko no hito!”
I’m not kidding; Rajnikant has a huge babe following in Japan.

There’s a whole bunch of people very happy with the ban and a whole other bunch who wish the Hon’ble Health Minister had never been born. To wit: (ye olde expression which means “that is to say”)

Happy: Mr. Anbumani Ramadoss – But of course! He has assured himself a place in the history books at the very least.
Unhappy: The Chain-smoker – “Dammit it’s hot/ cold out here in the road. Hmm, never really noticed the flavor of those bus fumes before.”
Happy: The local beat cop - Rubbing his hands in glee, “I thank the Honourable Health Minister for the ban. Now I can earn the same mamool as the traffic policeman.”
Unhappy: “There goes my Food and Beverage revenues. Unless…. he he ,…unless we call the whole restaurant a smoking area except for those two tables at the back next to the kitchen.”
Happy: The Municipal Transport Department – “Hah! Good thing. Now they cannot pin-point that the pollution on roads is due to our buses and trucks.”

Unhappy: The Indian soldier lighting up on the Siachen glacier
Happy: Pakistani General on the glacier – “Be alert men. Indian soldiers will now be lighting up outdoors making them easy night-time targets for sniper fire.”
Unhappy: Walkers and joggers have cordoned off corridors in malls, airports and train stations for their daily constitutional as the open roads, parks and beaches are crammed with smokers and smouldering cigarette butts.

Unhappy: Municipal workers now demanding more wages and better health plans for cleaning up hazardous smoker waste from the roads and sidewalks (what sidewalks?) However this could become a windfall in terms of “hardship allowance.”
Unhappy: Health Authorities concerned that carcinogenic substances will now be found in seafood since there are more people puffing on the beaches, and throwing their butts into the sea.

Unhappy: Temple and Church priests worried that the smoke from agarbattis or incense may be mistaken for cigarette smoke and fines will have to be paid out of the collections.
Unhappy: Cigarette manufacturers – Their new marketing strategy: “A bottle of Scotch with every carton of cigarettes delivered free to your doorstep.”
Unhappy: The Central Revenue and Excise Departments – “ Now cigarette production will drop. There will be other pressures to increase tax revenues, can we tax breathable air? ”.
Unhappy: China is unhappy, I don’t know why but I suspect it’s got more to do with the US-India civilian nuclear agreement than the smoking ban.

From the above sample poll, as one can see, if one can count, there are more unhappy persons than happy persons. Case closed! Let's light up! That's what I did, that first time, even after hawking out my insides, and I eventually reached the point where not only did I learn to inhale smoke, and exhale it through my nostrils, but I actually needed them so badly that if I ran out of my own, late on a rainy night, I would root around in the ashtray and dustbin and smoke stale, stinking, saliva-ridden butts discarded by alcoholics I didn't even like.

Smoking Cons: It's a repulsive addiction that slowly but surely turns you into a gasping, gray-skinned, impotent, cancerous corpse- like creature, hacking up yellow gobs of toxic waste from your insides, and breathing through a tube…..

Smoking Pros: Other folk are doing it and it goes well with Chicken Kababs and Beer, but not necessarily in that order.

Of course, young smokers starting out today have years to go before you reach that level of macho-coolness and maturity that I reached when I kicked the habit and now announce to the world, “Been There, Done That.” Meanwhile, I'm sure you don't want to hear any lectures from the likes of me.

But all-in-all it’s a good plan. Darn the lights have gone out, “Can someone light a match, please!” “Oops I forgot they’re not allowed to keep matches in case someone borrows it to light his fag.”

In our next episode we will discuss the ban on … “Spitting and Peeing in Public Places and their implementation”

And finally...........

Ring-a-Roses, The Berlin Wall, Wall Street .....all fall down!

"Come September" means it's "FALL."

Were these Natalie Imbruglia lyrics prophetic or what ?
"Her bones will ache Her mouth will shake And as the passion dies
Her magic heart will break She'll fly to France.Cause there's no chance
No hope for Cinderella Come September."

Nevertheless I’m so grateful to US President George W. What’s-his-face who asked Congress for $ 700 billion to bail out failed US financial institutions by buying up their worthless mortgages and other bad debts. Even though it was rejected by the US House of Representatives it was a bold and innovative plan.
The federal government has already pledged more than $600 billion in the past year to bail out, or help bail out, some of the biggest names in American finance. That includes the rescue of investment bank Bear Stearns in March, the takeover of mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac earlier this month and the takeover of the world's largest insurance company, American International Group, just this week.

Why just yesterday Washington Mutual, America’s largest Savings and Loan and the 6th largest US bank has been seized and its assets sold to J.P Morgan.
I’m told that the severance package for WaMu CEO Fishman alone amounts to almost $13 mil. This will ensure that his lifestyle will remain unchanged, his kids will continue their education in Ivy League schools, and his Malibu Home with its heated swimming pool and his wife’s Porsche will not be repossessed. What fun!

I’m sure this bailout would have sufficed to straighten out the world economy.
Several other world leaders were also concerned as was evinced by the President of Brazil when asked about the crisis. He said, “What crisis? Go ask Bush.” He too is confident that George W. is fully capable of managing the present world economic crisis just as well as he is handling the crisis in the Middle East, namely Iraq.

Jon Stewart of the Daily Show elucidates this point very clearly in this clip
http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=186052&title=clusterf#@k-to-the-poor-house.

I had been meaning to do something about it myself, but I cannot seem to find the time given that Goa has been having a lot of rain lately and my mother-in-law is visiting.

Anyway with such a load on my mind I cannot possibly deal with the world economic crisis, so I’m glad that the world leader in the entertainment industry, also considered bailing out American mismanaged private enterprise just to prove that it can abandon capitalism and embrace socialism when it so chooses.
I heard that this would have cost the average American Taxpayer an additional $7000.00 in taxes, but given American largesse as portrayed by CNN and Hollywood this, in Neil Armstrong’s words is, “one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” or “a small price to pay for saving the world and the American way.” or.... oh never mind, it’s a moot point now.

The Americans were also faced with having to deal with some very complex issues.
For example they had to decide which of the CEO’s of these failed institutions would get a Congressional Ticket and wide-ranging debates on whether they should have red wine or white with their lobster-dinner fund-raisers for starving third-world countries.

Interest rates too being very high, a lot of time was also been spent in discussion by Congress to arrive at a solution. After much deliberation they decided that, “Interest rates need to come down”. Such decision-making is what separates US Congressmen from us ordinary mortals. This too is a bold innovative plan, and it just might work.

What prompted this global meltdown from the American point of view is “unfair competition”. Unscrupulous rogue American companies (some of them funded by Al Queda) took overpaid jobs away from hardworking Americans and outsourced these services to 3rd world countries like India where employees work for peanuts thus making them wealthier and able to afford 3 square peanut butter sandwiches a day.
Although this made the US shareholders of these companies richer it also put a strain on the US agricultural industry and global oil prices, released additional methane into the atmosphere, increased global warming and subprime mortgages became unviable.

I guess I’ll just bring us all upto date with President Bush’s plan to save the world economy (namely Wall Street’s ass), so we can all get back to our daily humdrum lives or whatever it was we were doing.

The big problem is of course Wall Street which is in New York and conducts shady trafficking in animals like bulls and bears. They also carry on silly businesses, which work something like this:

Suppose a company wants money. It prints up a lot of pages called stocks and then goes to Wall Street looking to sell this paper to one of the traffickers called brokers.

The company asks these brokers,” How would you like to own these lovely bits of paper, look they are printed in so many colours with pretty graphs which show you how many homeless people without jobs or income, we will lend money to, at exhorbitant interest rates to buy houses with attached bathrooms – and this will make us very rich when they cannot pay up and then we can declare bankruptcy and Congress will then give us billions of more dollars of American taxpayers money.

The brokers hem and haw for sometime and then one of them sidles up and buys some stocks this leads to a stampede as all the other traffickers trample over each other for every bit of paper on offer.

Meanwhile the company has sold all its paper and sniggering, leaves hurriedly with a large sum of money, to buy diamonds or jewellery or vacations in the Bahamas.

It eventually dawns on the brokers that now, all they are left with are worthless scraps of paper unless they can get other people to buy it so they approach other brokers and all end up passing paper back and forth for more and more money till a small child says, “The Emperor has no clothes.” or words to that effect.

This makes them realize that they are participating in an enormous hoax, just like the WMD hoax of Iraq, and it could collapse at any moment. This causes them to panic. So today the financial section of the newspaper reads like this:

Markets hit by biggest US failure.

America’s Largest Savings and Loan Co seized. Assets sold…..

Pundits have pointed out that hurricanes Katrina and Andrew and 9/11 disasters are nothing compared to when investors reacted to the discovery that the planet Pluto was really an asteroid and Einstein actually propounded the theory of relative-titty after he married his big-bosomed cousin. E (Einstein ) = M ( marriage to) C (cousin) 2 (twice removed)

The good news is however, that today, one can buy a house in the US complete with indoor plumbing, for just Rs.75,000.00 , of course it’ll cost you an additional Rs.75,000.00 just to fly out there. But then you’d have to move from L.A. to Detroit, Cleveland or heaven forbid Jackson, Mi.

Bhagats make Baby in Bombay

Sounds Easy doesn’t it
Nishant and Jyotsna were never told by their parents where babies came from but they found out anyway. They’ve just become the proud parents of a bonny wee lass.

Babies are back in fashion today. Before the advent of the Internet couples would rather have played tennis. However, given that everything moves and changes so fast in this day and age, a game of tennis takes forever to finish.

So babies are back in fashion and the Bhagats decided to create a tiny human being capable of excreting stuff in large volumes from a lot of orifices simultaneously.

Uh oh no one said I had to be there !
Let me tell you it wasn’t easy for Nishant. Back in the days when their parents had kids there were a different set of rules – the woman went through labor in the delivery room; the man smoked and distributed mitthai.?”

Today in the spirit of involvement and playing a responsible role in the pregnancy both parents meet the doctor, attend pre-natal classes, and the male is supposed to provide moral support in appreciation of his mate carrying the child to full term, by giving up attending cricket matches and visits to the local pub.

At the end of the classes they showed a film to all the attending couples – of course Jyotsna had to drive them back home afterward.

When D-day arrived Jyotsna practiced breathing steadily, imagining she was floating in space to help her relax. Nishant, right there with her in the delivery room, ended up breathing shallowly, imagining he was lying on the floor, because he WAS on the floor.

Breast milk: The next big thing in cooking?
The best advice I can give the deliriously happy couple on raising this baby is … DO NOT LISTEN TO YOUR PARENTS, LOOK HOW YOU TURNED OUT!

Listen to me instead when I say that there is not very much to looking after a baby if you know about the 3 phases that they seem to get into i.e.
1) Crying
2) Stopped Crying and...
3) Pooping.


Your endeavour will always be to ensure that the baby is in phase 2 as often as possible. And be warned; although it seems easy at first, changing nappies becomes traumatic once nature decides to add odour to the baby’s poop.

You must know why babies tend to end up crying and the reason your baby cries is:
A) It is hungry
B) Dozens of other reasons.

If it is hungry I would suggest breast-feeding your baby. Why? Because this is good for the baby and because only the woman can do it so that the man need not get up in the middle of the night and can sleep soundly. HAH! Wrong. Don’t you men know the rules have changed? You better get up with her at all hours and provide the moral support or else….!

If you have fed your baby and it still cries there could be any number of reasons – you could try passing it back and forth from mother to father and ask the timeless question, “ I wonder what’s wrong?”
Or you can try making funny faces and unintelligible sounds at the baby; this will prove to the baby that its parents are deranged.
But if your baby could talk then it would tell you to “TURN THAT LOUD HEAVY METAL MUSIC DOWN!”

If all else fails then you will have to try discipline. Forget all that insane psychology about the delicate emotional needs of babies. Babies have only one need and that is to drool.

You will discover this about six days down the line after enormous amounts of baby drool has covered practically every inch of your clothes and the furniture.
Actually babies think that the sole function of you as parents is to provide objects for them to drool on.
Babies are actually weighed down by enormous drool glands that make up about 80% of their body weight right upto the time when they figure that they can also get stuff into their mouths.

And that’s when you go out and buy them meaningful educational plastic toys to play with.
You must buy several of these in different shapes and sizes; they help your baby acquire problem-solving techniques such as how to get as many pieces as possible into its mouth.

But beware beyond a certain age this is dangerous.
If you allow your baby to continue to put things into its mouth it could be detrimental later in its life.
Imagine your child going for a job interview with a Fortune 500 company and ending up putting the ashtrays and flower vases into its mouth. That makes for a really poor impression and your child could end up working for the Panjim Municipal Corporation on daily wage.

Whew I guess that’s over… haha just kidding !
It never ends.As a parent you need to discipline your child. When your child is older (about 3 months) you must turn to him/her firmly and say, “If you do not stop putting those things in your mouth I am going to take away your i-phone.”

If that does not work then you will have to occupy the child with more meaningful activities such as:
The Chicken Dance: Placing the kid on your shoulders hop around the room flapping your arms and clucking like a hen that just laid an egg.

The Airplane: Lie on your back holding the kid over you and make like it’s a big airplane about to land on your stomach while circling around up and down.
After you wipe off whatever the kid throws up on you with a wet towelette, go on to ….

The Hungry Dinosaur: Lay the kid on the floor and pretend to eat its toes then its legs then its stomach while going “Yum Yum Tasty Tasty” all the time. This will teach the kid a very important lesson, mainly that the world is full of idiots.

After the breast-feeding phase comes the solid food eating phase –
Your baby will give you clear signs when he's ready to move beyond liquid-only nourishment.

Cues to look for include:
• Head control. Your baby will stop bobbing its head about like Yoda in Star Wars; will look you straight in the eye and say, “I wanna pizza with fries.”
Babies hate the mush that passes for baby food. They would rather graduate straight to Pasta and Beer.
If you did this you can have a fully-grown productive baby in a matter of weeks.

• Losing the "extrusion reflex." To keep solid food in its mouth and then swallow it, your baby needs to stop using its tongue to push food out of its mouth. Since the baby usually has its mouth full of other objects like educational toys, babies tend to not eat solid foods with their mouths. They instead seem to absorb food through their chins. I highly recommend smearing food on babies’ chins and not trying to force-feed them through their mouths. This will save them the effort of trying to expel the food back onto their chins and will also make for less cranky and happier babies.

It will also save answering the time-worn question that parents ask each other later on in life, “Where did we go wrong?"

I couldn't have said it better myself

Melvin Durai is a Winnipeg-based writer and humorist. Born in India and raised in Zambia, he has lived in North America since 1982. Through the Internet, his column is read by thousands of people in more than 90 countries.

This week's column hits the bull's eye! (pun intended)

'THE SHOT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD'

In case you missed the news, in case you were sleeping under a rock or just got released from Guantanamo , India won its first-ever individual gold medal at the Beijing Olympics, causing 1.1 billion people to jump up and down with joy, touching off a minor earthquake in California and a major interruption in tech support.

Yes, an Indian man won an Olympic gold medal -- and without all his opponents getting injured. Abhinav Bindra, a 25-year-old from Delhi, won first place in the 10m air rifle event, beating 50 other shooters, including that great Albanian marksman Imer Gudschot.

So excited were members of the Indian Olympic Association, so taken in this moment of high-fives and champagne-popping, that some of them checked the official medal table to see if India had moved past America .

No such luck, of course, but that didn't stop Indians from celebrating like it was the greatest lympic achievement ever.

And who can blame them? After all, it was their first individual gol medal since India began competing in the Olympics more than a century ago, back in the days when 'catapulting' was an official sport.

'The drought is over!' screamed one newspaper's headline, causing even more celebration across the land, particularly in the farming community.

It was a shining moment for India on the world's greatest sporting stage. As one Indian politician eloquently put it, 'Abhinav Bindra has shooted us all into glory!'

Almost everyone in India , from the Prime Minister to the church minister, heaped praise on Bindra. Even members of the Indian Astronomers Association, attending a convention in Pune, took a break from the proceedings to applaud the 'shooting star.

Congratulatory messages poured into India from all over the world. U.S. presidential candidate John McCain, hoping to endear himself to Indian-American voters, sent a congratulatory card that he said was 'from one straight shooter to another.'

Indian legislators debated a motion to celebrate Aug 11 every year as Gold Medal Day. They voted down a proposal to display Bindra's medal at a national museum in Delhi, amid fears that the building would not be able to handle the millions who would come to view it.

The excitement and celebration may have seemed overblown, but not to Indians. 'People around the world may not know this,' a Chennai man said, 'but we Indians really love gold!'

Bindra's victory, combined with shooter Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore's silver medal at the 2004 Olympics, is expected to increase the popularity of shooting in India, drawing thousands of youngsters to shooting competitions and exhibitions during breaks from cricket.
We want shooting to be more popular in India,' said sports administrator Baljit Singh, 'but not as popular as it is in America .'

Hoping to match the success of TGC (The Golf Channel) in America, media mogul Rupert Murdoch announced that Indian viewers would soon be treated to TSC (The Shooting Channel). It's expected to feature various shooting competitions from around the world, as well as reruns of the American shows 'Gunsmoke' and 'Have Gun Will Travel.

Rajesh Patel, who has been hired as a TSC analyst, said Bindra's victory will have a lasting impact in India, even on sports announcing. 'We're not going to say that someone's performance is 'simply wonderful' anymore,' he said. 'We're going to say that it's 'simply Bindraful.''

Schoolchildren for years to come will learn about Bindra, thanks partly to an Indian publisher who has already put out a special alphabet book: 'A is for Abhinav. Abhinav is first name of champion. B is for Bindra. Bindra is surname of champion. C is for Chapati. Chapati is food of champion.

Bindra has not just earned a lifetime of adulation, he has become India 's most eligible bachelor, receiving a flood of marriage proposals. Said his proud mother, 'We have received proposals from North Indians, South Indians, and even West Indians.'
Indeed, a Trinidad dairy farmer with a 20-year-old daughter offered 1,000 cows in dowry, but Bindra turned down the offer, saying he doesn't want to milk his fame.

That pleased Indian sports fans, who want Bindra to choose his bride carefully, believing that the country's future Olympic glory rests partly on what type of genes his children inherit. Some are even dreaming of a match between Bindra and badminton star Saina Nehwal, an Olympic quarterfinalist. But that would be folly, according to one Indian scientist, who said, 'If we match a badmintoner with a shooter, we might end up with a badshooter.'

Black Applique

Black is the New Beige

The rain has taken a break for now. The sun shines bright.The foliage is verdant and green. A couple of crows are gangsta-rapping with Mojo the Doberman outside my window. Those crows look pretty thin. Is it from hunger or is it their black plumage. I'll never know since I never learnt to speak Caw.

Lea looks good in black (women in black always look gorgeous) Is it because black sets off their skin-tones? The highlights in their hair? The sparkle in their eyes? Lea says,"Black makes one look slimmer." Though why someone as slim as Lea would want to look thinner is beyond my comprehension.

I understand now why Aunt Isabelle , who was a size XXXLL wore black for most of her adult life. Her wardrobe consisted of : black dresses, black saris, black blouses, black trousers, black jeans, black bras, black panties, black coat, black jewellery, black shoes, grey gloves. Why the grey gloves, I'll never know - she punched me out when she caught me rummaging through her closet and I never had the courage to ask.

Contrary to general opinion clothes are neither for warmth, nor for modesty. "Clothes maketh the man" - as one wag opined. If we didn't wear clothes, we maybe would have to wear signboards that said,"I'm a male chauvinist pig with a sadistic streak," or "I want you to think I'm athletic." But clothes take care of this. Now you can tell, from the way he flexes his man-breasts under that unbuttoned-to-the-waist shirt and those tight-at-the-crotch pants, that he has a very large, possibly huge, inferiority complex.

In my book, black is a magical colour! Black is cynicism and beyond. Black is for people who believe in radical change. Black is the offspring of the hippy generation and flower power. The Beatles and KISS(Both Gene Simmons AND the acronym). Black loves truth and beauty but hates aggrandisement.

Used to be, if you went to a party dressed in black and saw someone else, a total stranger. wearing all black, you could go up to her and say, "Let's get out of here."

Now the commoners are wearing it. Neil goes to parties and if I asked him " Who was there?" He'd most likely reply,"Oh, you know a bunch of people wearing black."

So I figure Lea would also complain about about black-wearers in Goa. "They go to parties wearing black, but it's the wrong black, it's like black Remo or something. It looks really stupid ."

I went to a birthday party where everyone, without exception, was in midnight black. Except the hostess - she was in a dreamy mauve by Chaitanya Rao.

Lawyers wear black. Stockbrokers wear black. IT geeks who think, "To hell with the heat, I have to worry about my career", wear black. People who send their kids to international schools wear black. Pilgrims wear black. People who desperately want to know the 'Babush' wear black. People who like Dhoom 2 wear black. Everyone at every FTV party wears black. People who know what "arbitrage" means wear black. My milkman wears black.

Wearing black has lost it's intrinsic meaning.

This has to be stopped. People who are caught wearing black without a permit should be fined. But we can't expect our government to take our enlightened view and pass legislation. We will have to take a page from the VHP book on gratuitous violence. We will have to form our own vigilante groups and prowl the streets. The minute we find a perpetrator wearing black without the proper and correct attitude, we must surround him, point, laugh and then throw white paint on him. This should work.
The next step would be that we, ourselves, stop wearing black. Do I have to tell you what the obvious substitute colour is? I'm guessing you already know that.

Then for some deranged reason filmstars, decadent corporate executives, and the mentally unstable who are considered fashionable in Mumbai and therefore the country (except Bihar) will copy us. They will stop wearing black.

Then we start in again.

The Celebrity Trap

Desperately Seeking Fame

Bomb blasts. Terrorism. The Kashmir Conflict. Earthquakes. The Homeless. AIDS. Spiraling Inflation. Rampant Corruption. Farmer Suicides. Iraq. Georgia. Mugabe. Musharraf. Holes in the Ozone. Oil prices. Human Rights. Avian Flu. Animal Rights. Human Genocide.

Are you having an anxiety attack? Quick turn on the television and find a replacement topic. Rush, switch to Zoom, Star World or Zee café ! Hurry , find out everything about Aishwarya’s Bhindi Bhaaji recipe right now!

If we did not have Rakhee Sawant’s tantrums or Salman Khan’s cleavage to think about we would all go crazy! It’s true. The media knows exactly what to do. Focus your attention on Koffee with Karan- Johar questioning whether Katrina Kaif would prefer to lip-lock with Madonna or Britney Spears. The New York Governors Escort Service, John Edward’s Mistress. The Pregnant Man.

They keep your brains brimming with rubbish . Because if you didn’t you might think about stuff. Like- When the whole world is cutting back on expenses, how does the Indian Government unashamedly commit 55,000 crores of hard-earned taxpayer money to a salary hike for Government babus.

If you had a life free from anxiety, with some chance of personal fulfillment and happiness (yeah right!) or the slightest notion that you have control over your destiny , you wouldn’t give a flying fig whether Lindsey Lohan married Ellen DeGeneres while pregnant with Shoaib Akhtar’s baby.

But you don’t ,so you do.

In these sordid, decaying times you have come to believe that unless you are a celebrity, you do not exist. If the media is not focused on your every gesture, it didn’t happen. Private despair, Acts of heroism and sacrifice, soul-wrenching tragedy, so what, who cares? It’s like a tree falling in a forest.

So now the frenzied desire to achieve celebritude and therefore existence. The ever-obliging media obliges. New reality shows for wannabes get created for television; new glamour magazines hit the stands citing the latest icons in fashion, lifestyle and showcasing jet setting party animals.

However some of you are never going to make it to Celebrityland. You don’t have what it takes, you’re always picking your nose in front of paparazzi cameras. Instead you try to be close to celebrities, you try to brush up against them, hoping to get some of their glitter-dust on your shoulder.

You have to consider that you also need something to talk about when you party with strangers. What do you say to the lady seated on the barstool next to you? “Hi, Do you come here often”? “What’s your zodiac sign”? “Hello Big Bottom”? No. You can now comfortably ease into a conversation with a perfect stranger about how much you hate and despise Paris Hilton and everything she stands for. And when you get tired of this you can talk about what a retard Govinda or Bush is. Deepika Padukone’s hairdo,. Sania Mirza’s outfits.
Celebrities become your common frame of reference, be it celebrity revilement or adulation. It crosses all cultural boundaries. Celebrities are now your community, not just a part of it.

But I feel sorry for them. Yes, I do. The moment a person becomes a celebrity is the same minute he/she becomes an alien mutant. Shah Rukh Khan (name changed to protect his identity), Kareena Kapoor and now Abhinav Bindra were once perfectly pleasant human beings with whom you might share a Vada Pau at Bandra Bandstand on a slow Monday evening..

But now they’ve become supreme beings with everyone stalking them and basking in their reflected glory. The focus of clawing, salivating attention seekers everywhere. It’s not what they expected. When the Cosmos wants to play a really rotten practical joke on you , it grants you your deepest wish, and then laughs when you suddenly realize you want to kill yourself.

Shah Rukh, Kareena and Abhinav , fervently, more than us lesser mortals, wanted fame. They slaved, they pushed, they stepped on other people’s faces in their bid to satisfy this desperate need.

“If I can be famous, people will worship me and not notice how short I am”, thought Shah Rukh Khan.

“If I can be famous, I can get liposuction and fool around with Saif”, reasoned Kareena.

“If I can be famous, I can walk around town with a loaded gun, and girls will notice me,” Abhinav hoped.

The night they became famous they suppressed a wild urge to run naked through the town crying,”Eureka, Eureka!” Finally! Now they were famous, adored, invincible. The genie had delivered.

However, the next morning when they awoke, each of them wanted to take an overdose of sleeping pills.

All their fantasies had been realized. Yet the reality remained. Their misery before was now twice as bad, because that elusive fame that they were striving for, that would make everything rosy, and makes their lives bearable, and provide them with happiness and fulfillment had happened.

Nothing changed. They were still human. The disillusionment turned them howling and insufferable. They became public property; succumbing fatally to the branding virus, forever doomed to appear on commercial television; advertising asinine beauty care products, white goods and automobiles, over and over and over again....ad nauseum.

Hey! Anybody care for a Lays chip? Betcha can't eat just one!

P.S. No Celebrities were killed, hurt or maimed in the production of the above article !

This really is A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Black hole of debt.

I am delighted to say that I am a Credit Card Deadbeat! There are a lot of others out there, like me, who are also Credit Card Deadbeats. I congratulate you!

For those of you sporting your shiny Gold and Platinum Cards and looking haughtily at me and thinking I have a screw loose, but who don’t know what a Credit Card Deadbeat is, I’ll have you know I don’t avoid my credit card bills. I just don’t allow the credit card company to make any profit off me. As a matter of fact I made money off them. Huh!?....You may want to continue reading!

Why do credit card companies refer to their customers who pay off their credit cards promptly as “DEADBEATS”? They use the word like a mantra.
It’s not that these folk default on paying their bills.
To the contrary, a credit card deadbeat is the insider term used by credit card company executives and refers to all of the credit card users who pay off their bill each month promptly.
They’re called “DEADBEATS” because the credit card companies don’t make money off of them.

The ones who do not pay are the “PREFERRED CUSTOMERS, because they’re the ones they make money off. They target people they know won’t be able to pay.
The alternative to being a credit card deadbeat is what credit card executives call a “REVOLVER”. No, stupid person! It is not a gun used to commit suicide. Although being a credit card revolver might drive you to commit suicide, a revolver is a credit card user that constantly carries a balance and is charged regular, monthly interest on their charges.
Credit card companies love revolvers because they, in essence, increase the bottom line(again, not what YOU'RE thinking)for the credit card company and make them a nice profit. Further, from an insider perspective, the best customers not only carry a balance, but also make their payments late, triggering extra fees and a higher interest rate.

A credit card service salesperson will tell you it’s a business, and it’s a service, that they help people who are short of cash, help them find status, make their car payments, help them buy that plasma TV, the i-phone, laptop, Christmas and birthday presents for their children during tough times. Just like Santa Claus.



But they do not explain all the credit terms to all their customers, although you will find it on the back of every application, written in English in tiny, tiny print, but in the form of gobbledygook English even MBA’s from IIM Ahmedabad or Rhodes Scholars will not make out heads or tails of.
Sentences created by the same stalwarts who make up government tax laws which in the event are “subject to interpretation”…. meaning pay the bribe or else!

It’s usury, but who listens anyway since the state WANTS the credit card business. If you inquire about a car loan, you can be sure this info is shared among credit bureaus, it’s called Universal Default.

They have an extremely complex marketing strategy, they actually target people with low income or in the west those with bad credit ratings. Then they call or mail them citing exciting bonus offers.

They find people in dire straits and market directly to them with the hope of forming a lifelong relationship, I know of people who kind of operate their business in the same way, they sell heroin.

You can also term them loan sharks, considering they charge their customers 30% interest.

Now that is Criminal Conduct but it is not deemed criminal. Research has shown that the Credit Card industry is more profitable than Infosys, Reliance, and ONGC --- they have themselves a multi-million dollar racket going worldwide.

But don’t try to sue them since they have a lot of security and will bury you, the only way you can put adversary back into the system is to do it openly and notoriously for all to hear. Like in an open forum or NDTV debate.

Did you know that of the thousands of industries tracked by the better business bureau, the credit card racket is number one in customer complaints, that is why they deliberately target those who wont be able to pay off their debts, people they call “REVOLVERS”, people who see zero % interest in big red letters and don’t know that with just one late payment they skyrocket their interest to 30%.

In the last 5 years, in the US alone more than 7 million people filed for bankruptcy but the credit card companies were able to get the US Congress to change the Bankruptcy Code that made it next to impossible for people to be able to discharge credit card debt.

They are essentially a pack of hyenas, crunching on the bones of the poor and middle class. – I smell something foul; it has the stench of big tobacco and oil cartels all over it. Maybe someday they’ll get horribly sick and die.

Olympism 2008

THE BEIJING BANDWAGON

The Opening Ceremony
08:00 pm 08/08/2008 – A spectacular opening ceremony. Started on the dot.
Thus far, the awesomest opening ceremony of any Olympics. (or, as the Hindi Doordarshan commentator insisted on pronouncing, “OLUMPICS”.)
To whit it was a spectacle of sound, light and awesome human co-ordination.
Did I say it was awesome? Almost as good as a Bollywood movie - it had a 9 year old girl lip-syncing for a 7 year old singer, it had computer graphics for television broadcasts of fireworks, and it had scripted volunteers filling in empty seats in the stadium as cheerleaders for opposing teams.It made Ram Gopal Varma and Sanjay Leela Bhansali very proud

Here are some specs:
Number of drummers that pounded out the opening countdown : 2,008
Number of fireworks: 33,866 (this does not include some mortar shells that “accidently” fell at the same time on Tibet)
Number of performers and advisors: 22,000
Number of spectators: 91,000
Number of parking spots: 5
Number of television Viewers: 2.3 billion
Number of visits to the bathroom (including beer guzzling tv viewers) during the ceremony: The count was lost after 5 billion 3, 76,000.
Number of Olympic-related TV commercials watched per viewer: 3,786
Number of times a Games TV viewer in Goa will see the “Dancing Beijing” symbol and say, “Oi Patrone, doesn’t that look like Remo in tights?” : 350
Number of political world leaders: 80.
#George Bush when asked if he had come here for the decathlon, typically answered, “No, I’ll just take the regular coffee.”
#Sonia Gandhi noticed the dishevelled, undisciplined, sloppily dressed Indian squad, led by an ex-army officer no-less. She, understanding that they were tired from the long journey to the stadium and the endless practising, and were missing home; rose to the occasion, tucking in her gorgeous silk sari in true "jhadoo wali" style, and waved out to them in empathy. Prompting L.K.Advani to remark,“Well, that puts paid to my harping on her “foreign origin” in the future.
You don't believe me? Then watch the video below. Except that the video bit on Advaniji has been removed as his face not to mention voice, was not considered cute enough for an Olympic performance.


Number of participating countries: 204 (Brunei chickened out)
Number of athletes expected to compete: 10,500
Number of raincoats prepared for the athletes: 10,000 - unfortunately the Sichuan sweatshop shut down due to the earthquake, so the swimmers will not receive any raincoats
Number of Indian athletes: 57, actually 56 since a weightlifter was wantonly dropped at the last minute. She cried copiously and shed 5 kilos..
Number of Officials accompanying the squad: 42. Wonder why? Could be any number of reasons actually....They were there to prevent possible defections to the “other side”; As cheerleaders, like for the IPL; Sania Mirza’s mom was also part of the squad to find an Olympic match for her little girl; There were no weightlifters in the squad, but the weightlifting officials were there to persuade some other team to lift for the Indian side; Then there's the question of satisfying the "Olympic Reservation Quota" requirements. You have to admire the Indian Olympic Committee for efficiently covering all angles. Your taxes are being put to good use.
Number of condom vending machines in the games village: 2, right next to the pirated DVD kiosks.
Number of events competed for: 302 events in 28 sports (no, it does not include kabbadi)
Number of medals to be won: D-uh, do the math!
Number of atoms in Rakhi Sawant’s fingernail: 25 million. I just threw that in there as a statistic.
Money spent on the opening: Just 480 million Yuan – proof that you don’t have to spend a lot of money if you can threaten your citizens with jail time or worse to work for a handful of rice and beans a day.( 1 Yuan= 1 bean and 5 grains of rice)

For more accurate information you can always visit:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2008_Summer_Olympics#Participating_NOCs

China Snapshot
- Home to one out of every four people on earth. So if you belong to a family of four, I’m sure one of you is Chinese (check your Ration Card)
– An ancient culture which invented gunpowder, and paper, fireworks, travel agents, Chinese checkers and pirated DVD’s – bootleg copies of the opening ceremony were available 2 weeks earlier in Hong Kong.
– Home of the Great Wall, a man-made object that can be seen almost as clearly from outer space as Mukesh Ambani’s new home “Antilla” in downtown Mumbai.

Security – There are police and army officers everywhere, including one in every athlete’s room closet. Unfortunately, as we now know, this tight security does not extend to accompanying in-laws.

Language – Chinese of course or Mandarin. Get your destination written down by your helpful hotel staff. Show it to your taxi driver. Then look astounded when you figure out by the shrug of his shoulders that he cannot read either.

Toilets – Carry your own bathroom accessories. Since they were so busy inventing gunpowder, they never really got around to plumbing and modern bathrooms. Maybe you can carry your own porta- potty.

Cuisine – For the most part the cuisine there can be described as “Chinese Food”. For Starters try scorpion, snake on a stick, or dog liver.

dog brain soup,for the entree, go on to mixed cow and horse stew,
and top this splendid repast with assorted lizard legs, dung beetles and roasted silk worm soufflé. Yumm!


You will notice however that Chinese people in the markets are buying lamb chops, noodles and chicken dumplings.
The truth is, the Chinese don’t eat scorpions. They feed their reptiles to Olympic visitors. I suspect that the Chinese word for lizard legs when translated actually means “food for foreigners”

Pollution - Not as bad as Vapi, in Gujarat. Although I did think those shapes that looked like tiny polo shaped Olympic rings in the stadium were swarming toxic particles.
There’s really no air-pollution problem here. That’s what it says in the "Beijing Times", the official English-language newspaper of the "Chinese Olympic Committee".

And if one can't trust an official Chinese Committee to be objective about this, who can we trust? George Bush? Pakistan? The Goan Government?
The Beijing Times has run front-page stories stating that the yellowish-gray atmospheric gunk blotting out the sun is merely ''haze.'' OK? So enough nonsense about ''air pollution.''

You need a lot of help here, since most of the writing is in Chinese, which is basically a giant secret code designed to prevent you from having any idea what the hell is going on.

On the other hand the regular Chinese people are wonderful hosts, unfailingly friendly and helpful.
When you arrive at the hotel front desk, it will be staffed by at least 15 people. The great thing about China is : There are always plenty of people around to help.
For example: In some men's rooms, there are attendants whose sole function, as far as one can tell, is to direct you to the toilets. You walk in, and there's a guy, and he makes this gesture toward the toilets, which are roughly 5 steps away, his point being, ''Here are the toilets.''
This happens in Calangute too but mostly they gesture the way to the nearest bar. But unlike in Calangute, you do not tip him in Beijing.

Footnote: Rahul Gandhi was last seen drinking a refreshing beverage; when deciphered the Chinese label read “ BRAKE FLUID”

Closed for Service

Free Public Service Announcement

The Invoicing Section of my credit card company is incredibly efficient. I received my credit card statement which outlined charges for the annual fee for my replacement card, right on the dot. Perfectly normal procedure! Right? Now for the Dispatch (Despatch?) Section - I’m still waiting for that replacement card!! I now need to call Customer Service.

It's my own stupid fault that I need to speak to Customer Service. I made a really idiotic mistake: I moved to another city and into a new house.

Don't ever make this mistake! It's ALWAYS better to stay in your current home, even if it's destroyed in a tsunami or an earthquake.

If other people have bought your house and are moving in, you should hide in the garage and only come out at night to forage for food.

If you move, you'll end up like me: surrounded by hundreds of cardboard boxes packed by aliens, each box containing an average of one item -- perhaps a single old sock -- wadded up inside 2000 metres of bubble wrap and corrugated cardboard.

Almost every box will be labeled with the words “sundry items” but spelled in cell-phone texting language “S. IT”. You will not be able to find ANYTHING. For example, I'm pretty sure that, before I moved, I owned a 12-year-old cat.
(I'm kidding, of course. I know exactly where the cat is. It’s inside one of those boxes which the vultures keep circling.)

On moving day, I was surrounded by a forest of stacked boxes, attempting to take apart a credenza the size of an SUV so that I could attempt to force it through a doorway the width of Kareena Kapoor, when suddenly, outside, I heard the movers, who spoke Tamil, shouting something about a paamboo. I could tell by the urgency in their voices that when translated into cell-phone text, it would be all in capital letters. So I ran outside, and there, on the verandah,was a snake.

In other places, when you move, you're given a Farewell Dinner; there in Chennai, you get the Farewell Snake!

So, anyway, after dialling the number for Customer Service listed and waiting on hold for Customer Service a cool idea came to me.

Looks as though it’s what I do these days: wait for Customer Service. My call is important to them. They have told me this many times in a sincere recorded message. They can't wait to serve me! They will answer my call just as soon as they finish serving the entire population of Uttar Pradesh. After all Chief Minister Mayawati came oh- so-close to being our fair country’s first Dalit Prime Minister!

But my point, which I am hoping to make in the telling of this tale, is that, because I moved I had to change all my essential services -- cooking gas, telephones, ration card, postal service, beer delivery, etc. -- and naturally, because all the companies involved use sophisticated network technologies, none of these services actually work right in my new abode.

Everything is all mixed up. I have e mails being printed out via my electric iron, I receive phone calls on the hand- shower, and when I turn on the washing machine, scenes from 'Desperate Housewives'' are telecast during the rinse cycle.

So to sort out this mess, I quit my job (whatever that may have been) and started spending my days waiting on hold for Customer Service, listening to the toe-tapping ''lite'' muzak they play when they are not telling you how important your call is to them. While doing this, the idea came to me.

You know those telemarketing people who always call you at siesta-time? Or those Eureka Forbes salesmen who lean on your doorbell? I'm talking about the ones who never come right out and say they're selling something. Lately, they've been using the bizarre term ''courtesy call'' to describe what they're doing.

''Sir,'' they'll say, “this is just a courtesy call to do you the courtesy of interrupting your siesta so I can ask you this question: Would you like to save 50 percent or more on your long-distance phone bill?'' or “May I demonstrate this awesome water purifier, which doesn’t need electricity and absorbs moisture from the air."

I always say no. I tell them that if I wanted to talk to someone in a distant continent I would use Skype, or better yet, just go there. And to the Eureka guy I say I only drink beer and water is bad for my alcohol stream. Then I hang up/ shut the door. But, of course, this does not stop them. The next afternoon, they call again. That's how caring and considerate they are.

So here's the scenario: On the one hand, we have the telemarketers and salesmen constantly calling on us, even though everyone hates them and, to my knowledge, nobody in the history of the world has ever bought anything from them; and on the other hand, when we want to reach Customer Service, we can never get through.

Obviously, what my Credit Card Company needs to do is round up all the employees in the Telemarketing and Field Sales Departments, troop them over to Customer Service, and order them to step over the bodies of the Customer Service employees, all of whom apparently passed away years ago, and PICK UP THE BLASTED PHONE, OK? Because I need to take a shower and my shirt is stuck in the printer.

That darn snake is flirting with my cat !!

Oh! The Audacity!

To Park or not to Park

I drive in circles around Panaji at least four times to find a parking spot close to my bank but all to no avail. So I park the car near the old GMC building and hoof it through the light drizzle for twenty minutes and get to the bank just in time; before they close for lunch.
Walking out the door I bump into a couple of guys I know, I think metrosexuals, and we're standing there talking about women and the weather.

That's when a lone parking spot right opposite the bank opens up and an elderly gentleman pulls into it. A white woman in a bandana with cut-off jeans runs up to him.

"That's my space!", she scolds him,"Honestly! I was about to park my car in there! I always have that space! Ask anybody, you have to move!"

"Now that is unmitigated freaking gall," I say.

"I'll bet he gives in," Bosco says.

"C'mon, nobody's that much of a moron," says Santan.

The old man shrugs and grins sheepishly,backs his car out and drives away. Bandana grins and rushes victorious to her car.

"She'll never get that monster SUV in there, he had a Maruti 800!" I say.

"She'll beg and cajole and get everyone to move their cars, you just watch," says Bosco.

And that's exactly what she does.

"Wow," says Santan, "if there was a Nobel prize for manipulation, she'd definitely win."

I walked back in the driving rain, passing the elderly gent who decided to do as i did. Except he was carrying his umbrella.

Bikini Blues

The "eyes" of the beholder

The rains have arrived and you know what that means:

For us men the supreme satisfaction of being able to hunker down with a beer in front of the TV and watch the UEFA Euro 2008 AND the Wimbledon unhindered, because thanks to the rain nobody wants to “hit the beaches” anymore.
That same reason makes kids and teenagers hunch over their Playstations and Xboxes blissfully unaware of their spades, buckets and beach balls left outside floating away down the storm water drains.

So ladies I just know what you’re thinking: This leaves you with enough time to get in shape for the next season and show off that swimsuit! So get in there and start that diet and exercise programme you’ve been looking forward to all of last season, and shed those 5 kilos.

Remember the confidence with which you put on that new swimsuit you got from Rio the last time? How you ripped it off and spent the rest of the weekend in your closet, crying and eating chocolate chip ice cream straight from the container??

Well you’re not going to let that happen again. You’re going to become that supermodel or top Bollywood star by whose standards no woman is supposed to weigh more than her nail polish.

You’re saying that that you read somewhere that they do not want thin models in the industry any more. Femina also had models who were normal humans in a recent fashion spread!

You lamebrain! Don’t you know this is a ploy by the clothing designers to get millions of normal-sized women to go to the chic boutiques, trying to buy the clothes they saw in Femina and finding out that designers manufacture those clothes only for mutant aliens who wear size zero or lower. The 20 kilo salesgirl who comes in and leaves the boutique through the air-vent will haughtily tell you that they don’t have your size and maybe you should try across the road, at Maternity Dresses for Whales.

But let’s be practical, 5 kilos is not going to be the answer to getting you looking like these celebrities who are so impossibly slim. You will need a personal trainer as well. Someone to advise you on nutrition, give you pep talks, and haul you back on your leash whenever you try to weakly crawl to that 200 gram tin of soya nuggets that is the only food supply for the month in your fridge. Someone who will remind you, that the biggest meal of the day for those supermodels is toothpaste.

But you can’t afford a personal trainer, in which case you need willpower. Oops! You don’t have will power either, because you’re sitting there like a blob, allowing gazillions of cellulite particles to mate furiously in your thighs, spawning whole new colonies, and you’re reading this asinine article, instead of jogging to the gym.

So ladies! What CAN you do? Well, take the cue from us men, and learn the secret of OUR success.

Why are we so secure about our bodies that we do absolutely nothing, even given the fact that we go parading about the beaches in our underwear letting our bellies prove that we can create a whole other person from the spare tissue?

It’s simple really: We have no idea what we look like.

This is how a man’s mind works. Before stepping out on the sand, a 300 kilo, bow-legged, 5 foot guy with one eyebrow and more body hair than King Kong will put on a thong, look in the mirror, and with a smirk say, “Oh! Yeeeaaah!”

Notice the man looks at himself head-on in the mirror. We men never look at anything else but the front-view which is the most flattering.

But you women check your body from all angles. Front, Side and Back. Then you convince yourselves that the last two views consist almost entirely of a stomach and a butt. That’s where depression begins to manifest itself.

So study this technique ladies, and remember it. Never look sideways at yourself in the mirror. And when retreating, don’t turn around ... walk backwards.