29 April, 2011

To Kate & William

Dear Kate & William,
First and foremost, thanks a ton for the wedding invite. But unfortunately, as you would have noticed, I was not present at the wedding. There are many reasons to this, the primary reason being financial. You see, I made a bit of a boo-boo on the savings bit and really could not afford to fly down there for the weekend.Besides, I've got way too many weddings to attend again and need to prioritize.You guys did not make the cut.

My blessings are with you. It’s a good thing you put the ‘No gifts please’ bit on the invite. I did not enjoy the weekend locked up in the Tower of London when I got a Parker pen as a joke for Camilla Aunty. (PS: William, I was planning on getting you a pen too…William Penn…get it? No?)

I did catch the wedding on the tele though. I know I was first choice to perform songs at the wedding, but Liz Aunty wanted Elton John, and we all know that we don’t get on her wrong side. She might tell MI5 to send an agent after me. Speaking of that, why was James Bond not invited? Anyway, I sincerely hope Elton does not perform a third version of ‘Candle in the Wind’. He did tweet that he was looking at doing some Iron Maiden covers. Can you guys get him to come down and do some llayaraja covers if and when I get married?

Will, if you were going to make fun of the Irish guards that stand outside the palace and wear that bright red tunic, you could have at least gone the whole way and worn the fuzzy hat too. Or is that reserved for the honeymoon? (wink wink…you naughty boy you). Kate, sweety, you looked gorgeous as always. Too bad it never worked out between us. I’m guessing with all things equal between Will and I, it was the glasses I wear which tilted things in his favour. This was part of the reason I was not keen on making it to the wedding – history and all that. Come to think of it, it’s good that you went with Will. I do not wish to be tied down by all this wedding business so early in life.

I’m going to miss the delicious spread at your wedding, especially the smoked salmon. If you guys wanted to have some real fun instead of trying to be different with all this ‘going against tradition’ business, you should have served everyone south Indian food on a banana leaf. So much for being the duke of anything. You fellows better learn to eat by hand when you come over to my house.

Anyway, my best wishes with you two. Please don’t make a sex video of your honeymoon. These things always find their way to the internet. Tell Harry we need to meet up and get drunk. The last time was fun, we spooked the ghost at the Windsor Castle. Ask Uncle Charlie, how the radio reception on his ears are? Is he still picking up those E.T sounds? I’m telling you, it’s that Kamina(Camilla) lady who is messing with his head. Tell Liz to take it easy. I rather enjoyed her ‘I am Tweety bird’ get up for the wedding. Cheers!

The Dark Prince

PS: We did not have a public holiday here for the wedding. Being an erstwhile colony, we should have at least been given an optional holiday. Please tell those blokes at No.10 to speak to our blokes. Cheerio!

24 April, 2011

Nikhilesh at ‘Unknown’ movie

Quiz question( the answer to which you would know if you follow me on Twitter) “What’s worse than sitting near a young couple, who are making out, at a theater?

Answer: Sitting near an old couple who keep complaining about the young couple.

To them I say,” Jealous??? Missed the bus ,eh?”

This was the side plot in the movie. The theater was some what sparse considering most of the people had gone for Dum-Maaro-Dum. There was this couple, early twenties who…well…to put it mildly – got more bang for the buck. Too much heavy breathing and enough sound effects to make Yours Truly find a different seat just as the opening credits rolled on. Well, some of us were actually there to see the movie.

I found a seat two rows behind, near this elderly Tamil couple who I was pretty certain would not make out. Ewww….ugly picture in head… ctrl+z, ctrl+z! But hey, those who can’t do, complain. Less than a minute into me moving to that seat, the Tam-maami began in fairly audible Tamil as to how my generation has lost respect for values and that how their daughter, Soundarya, would not be doing any of this. Soundarya is in the US of A, don’t ask me how I know. But believe me maamiji, Soundarya may have just come over to the dark side. Don’t trust that pavadai-pottu-wearing vixen one bit.

5 more minutes of that banter, and guess who had to find a new seat? Tah-da….

Besides this very very very uncomfortable turn of events, it turns out that the Inox multiplex no longer serves popcorn meant for single people. They have eliminated the smaller boxes and we all have to buy a bucket of popcorn. I thought it best not to throw a hissy-fit at the counter and walk away. They can keep their stupid popcorn. I never liked it anyway. Humph.

Oh, I had gone to see ‘Unknown’. Yes, I’ve heard all the jokes. ‘Machaan, how can you go and see an unknown movie? Avalu boredaaa?’ or ‘ Dude, ladki ke saath tha kya, jo movie unknown ho gaya?’. Jokes apart, it was a very gripping movie. Good story line with unexpected twists and turns. And if you comment saying that you knew it would end that way, I’m sorry for not being the clairvoyant that you are. Good thriller overall. Check it out.

22 April, 2011

I've been learning it all wrong...

See the video link first, then we can talk.

Obviously, I've been learning the guitar the wrong way all these years. This video has opened my eyes. Henceforth, I will stop attending classes to learn musical theory, pentatonic scales, 12 bar blues and all that jazz.....and will resort to learning only 'Wonderwall' by Oasis. I need nothing else now. Look at all those dim-witted girls falling over that guy.

Speaking honestly, "WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP!!!". Imagine the number of guys who are going to learn only Wonder wall and assume that" Hey, I can play the guitar". Or worse, the ones that come up to me and go,"Machaan....what are you doing this weekend? I want to learn 'Wonder wall' to play to this damn cute chick I know da....can you teach?" It's highly unfortunate that I'm part of a generation that's all about smoke and mirrors and less on actual magic. The worst was when one dude came up to me asking me to teach him how to play,"Kabhi Kabhi Aditi" , just so that he could play it to this girl he knew who was apparently feeling down because her dog died or something....here's the best part...the girl's name was not Aditi. " Arey Bhai, bhavanaaon ko samjho". Facepalm anyone? The girl's name was not Bhavna either.

Now thanks to the video, I am going to be very very skeptical about playing 'Wonder wall" in public again. Hey!!!Note to all those who want to learn 'Wonder Wall", the chords to "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" are the same....so maybe, you can play that after the girl finds out you can't play anything beyond two chords and tapping the guitar.

PS: I've included a new 'like' tab....so you can hit that in case leaving a comment is too much trouble.

20 April, 2011

Not a very good idea

I was confessing to a friend that I have become very bored and hence very boring as a person considering the fact that almost everyone I know in the world is:
(a) out of the country
(b) married/engaged
(c) process of hunting for a future missus or mister
(d) just too darn lazy to do anything on the weekend. (Not even commenting on the weekday)

This leaves me with the best company I know….me. And I’ve gotten quite bored with myself.

The suggestions to solve my extreme boredom on weekends (and weekdays) because I’m trying very hard not to be one of those blokes who loves work so much that I forget everything else…
(a) Get married (Absurd stupid suggestion…. Even Warren Buffet recommends that you don’t do things just because everyone is doing it)
(b) Get a girlfriend ( *After much hysterical laughter* Erm….no. Girlfriend’s are like Bournville… you don’t get them, you earn them…..and I am extremely underpaid)
(c) Get a dog

PS: Notice, we MBA types love MCQs.

Of the above 3 options, let’s analyze option ‘c’. Nikhilesh Murthy owns a dog…interesting!!! What breed would it be? I’d prefer a large dog…something like a Golden Retriever or a German Sheppard. I really don’t see myself going for a Pug or a Dachshund or one of those tiny dogs. It’ll be the whole Activa ego complex all over again. But it definitely won’t be one of those dogs that drools all over the place, thinking about that dog from ‘Turner and Hooch’.

Now that we have agreed on the breed of dog, time for a name. I’ve always had a thing for calling a dog, or even a baby, by the name of ‘Hector’. (Silly fetish sitting in my head after friend and ex-colleague told me this joke). Then any time I call it, the dog, or the baby, it’ll be like Brad Pit in Troy, “Hector…… Hector…… Hector….”. Going by this, I can even call that dog, or baby, ‘Sparta’. Then when anyone asks the name, I can pull a Gerard Butler, with all the spit flying in their face and scream,” This is Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarta.” All this holds good only if it is a big dog. Imagine I yell,’This is sparta’ and point at my confused excuse for a living creature pet Chihuahua. Or, we keep it simple and call the dog ‘Johnny’…”heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s Johnny’. All these are no good if it’s a she-dog. I have no names in mind.

To my friend I say this, at this point in time; I am not fit to take care of a dog, a cat, a turtle, a spider, a rogue iguana or even a baby Velociraptor. The only living thing I should be able to look after is probably a really small cactus. All I’ll have to do is put a reminder on my phone, to water the darn thing once a year. And I don’t have to worry about people (namely women thinking they’re still teen-something girls) making banshee like sounds at the cactus.

I remember this one time where I went to the stuffed toy section at the toy store to pick up something for my colleague’s daughter who had just turned one. I am not used to buying anything for another person, so this took a lot of thinking as to which stuffed toy would be appropriate; when all of a sudden I hear this almost teeth-grinding like screech going,”Theeeeeeeees eeeeeeeees chooooooooooooo cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute. I want eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet”. I turn around to find this grown woman shrieking away looking at some pink teddy bear while the boyfriend/husband stood behind with a stoic ‘I wish I were single’ expression on his face.

I figure owning a dog, means taking it for a walk, which means there is a chance women would look at the dog and make these incomprehensible siren sounds, forcing me to twist my face into a form that can only be described as ‘when a bear gets it foot caught in a rusted metal trap’. Anyway, no dogs for me. The quest for a PS3 will continue.

08 April, 2011

The....for lack of a better word....art of Wine tasting

I happened to have found myself at a corporate event (the one where I began thinking about what sort of eulogy I would receive from you good folks….turns out only one of you guys was planning on coming there to say how disappointed they were in me) and we had a ‘wine-tasting’ workshop. At the end of it, I have this to say – Any drink that involves procedure beyond ‘Pour/Make – drink’ is just not worth one’s time. I’ve always been fascinated by these wine-tasting fellows who smell the wine, swirl it in their glasses, hold it up to the light to check for a blue tinge, gargle a little, then spit it out and say, ‘ It’s quite clear that the wine-maker has invested a lot of love into these grapes. The wine actually tastes like grapes, which is kind of ironic because that’s what it’s made from. The slightly sour taste indicates that the wine maker was running bare-naked in his own fields after which he decided to get into the vat to stomp these grapes to give it that aromatic earthly smell combined with the salty taste of feet sweat . I do however sense a certain organic taste which can only come from the poop of the Thalassarche melanophris( aka the brown Browed albatross) which means the grapes were grown in the South of France. The wine is a great adjunct with other southern dishes namely idli-sambar or bisibele bath. The more adventurous can look to complement the wine with a fine bowl of Avial. Robert Louis Stevenson was right when he said ,”Wine is bottled poetry”. This wine is one of those fine wines. Allow me to quote some poetry of my own,” Rub a dub dub…a rubber ducky in the tub… soapy bubble cover my toy sub” .

While this sounds great and all high-society types, the truth remains that there is nothing like a good old scotch whiskey….or a beer. Sometimes both….at the same time. Lol….no, I kid, I never mix scotch with anything. Keep it simple, just pour them in a glass, or straight out of the bottle, whatever you like and drink. No smelling them, gargling them, contemplating how you are reminded of a cool summer night’s breeze….all rubbish. Wine is just too much work. Just not worth one’s time. And you cant go wrong with scotch or beer…they suit all food groups. If ever I happen to go out with a girl, I hope she’s classy but hates wine. Otherwise, most of my evenings are going to be spent beating my self wondering what wine goes with what food group. And there is no way she’s going to enjoy Purple Haze on wine. Imagine if she was like Karen from HIMYM. Sheesh! The horror….

Waiter asks,” Order sir?”.

I say,” Jack Daniels large, with coke and a lot of ice”.

Waiter,” And for you ma’am?”.

She,” Well, I’ll have a glass of Bordeux…make it a 78.”

Waiter,” No madam…we don’t have that.”

She,” What about a Châteauneuf-du-Pâpe?”

Waiter stands there wondering how to spell that.

She,”Ugh…what an unclassy place. We’re through. If you can’t bring me to a place that offers a half decent bordeux, there’s not point in being together. Find some urchin who shares your taste.”

Anyway, long story short. I think wine tasting is too exaggerated as an art. I doubt I’m going to appreciate the finer aspects of wine-drinking. Call me uncouth and uncivilized, but there’s got to be an easier way to appreciate this wine business. And quite personally, if you don’t know anything about wine, it’s best to let someone else decide what to pick. Or else, order a beer. You really can’t go wrong with beer. Or best, stick to water.

03 April, 2011

Profanity…from death to brotherly love!

Hi, I’m Nikhilesh and I’m a profanity addict. There… I admit it, and as much as I don’t like it, profanity has become an integral part of who I am. Sincere attempts are on to cut down on the usage of words, but it is tough to do so. Every day, I leave home saying that I will not yell at the another insolent numbskull driver on the road, but then one of them always successfully ticks me off by doing something like taking a U-turn from the left of my car, cutting across while talking on the cell phone. This generally prompts me to roll down the window and go….well, let’s leave that to the imagination.

This got me thinking as to how profanity has slowly found a place in one’s life. While I know sarcasm was a trait picked up from the parental unit, profanity definitely was not in the picture. I’m guessing this started somewhere in class 5. We were abroad in Africa, so the only entertainment was either football or movies. Couple a whole bunch of Hollywood action flicks that had just started using words, with adolescence and the anger of football….and presto…out pops the first word in the long sad future of words. And it started some where there. I really can’t remember the first word I said back then…it’s sort of like the history of Britain….no exact clue as to when it began, but it did go a long way to give the world a lot of pain.

But what I do remember is when how we would nearly kill one another just because the other chap called you, “stupid idiot”. And if someone were to use the word ‘Bloody’….oh lord, watch all hell break loose. Couple that with the ‘fat’ or ‘pig’ insult…watch me run you into a wall and then pound you. Violent times….sad! But then we all grew up…some more than others, and the profanity lexicon kept evolving. So did the greetings; ‘ yo jackass’ or ‘hey moron’ was completely acceptable bro-code for a greeting. We’ve still not touched the F and B words. The place where profanity really took off was in graduation….and I’m sure that is where it did for most people in my generation. You may have not learnt anything relevant in the course, but you sure did learn a lot of new words….. and Eminem’s 8-Mile just made the F word so cool. This was also my Limp Bizkit phase.

And now, standard greeting between friends is more like, ‘You bas***d, how’ve you been man?’…and there is nothing wrong with that. You can mock friends for how poorly their football team is doing and they’re prompt with a ‘you f***ing bas***d….’ and we’re all still going out for beer with no hard feelings. The same words said, maybe 15 years ago, would have probably ended up in a bloody feud with the class being forced to take sides, all differences to be settled in what would start off as a football match and end up in nothing less than the WWE. It was a good thing I weighed more than others even back then…..they could run, but they could not hide. Strategy was to get to the classroom and take possession of their bag or lunch box. The thrashing at home from their Mom was far worse than what Mr.Murthy would give. Hehehe….make the prey come to you, must be that hunting instinct from living in Africa.

And it’s so amazing as to how forms of greeting now involve bas***d, MC, BC (don’t ask me to translate those), b**ch and a whole host of other words….the F word is like saying ‘Hello’…which are common. After India won the ODI world cup last night, a lot of kids were partying on the road outside, one fellow calls up his other friend to say ,’ Yo b**ch…where are you? We won you mother****er’ and they go on to have a very pleasant conversation. My mum was obviously shocked and wanted to go down there and beat some discipline into those kids. Sigh! If only she knew how times have changed. Bob Dylan was right all along.

What is your recollection of the first ‘Ushoooo….you used THAT word’ ???