Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Importance of Red

Scene 1: Apartment Day celebrations. Couple of men are drunk till their noses are RED
Scene 2: The music is on but the songs aren't being started by the orchestra. RED with anger, one flings a spoon at the videographer.
Scene 3: The Secy. blushes RED and tries to remove fellow from scene.
Scene 4: Fellow's wife is now RED hot with temper
Scene 5: She troops off with friends. Fellow comes back and hits Secy whose nose bleeds RED.
Scene 6: Secy. shows RED signal causes prog to stop
Scene 7: Public is RED with anger, demands restart.
Scene 8: RED changes to green , prog restarts and ends with dance and fun.
Scene 9: Next day, many see the day as a RED letter day and demand resignations.
Scene 10: BotheRED, the pres. calls for an open forum.
Scene 10: Committee does a RED tape on the issue
Scene 11: Some stop paying dues. Their status underlined in RED
Scene 12: 6 months on, their facilities are withdrawn. RED with anger, they blockade gates and gherao
Scene 13: Case is filed and now to their chagrin, the finances regarding cases are in RED for all concerned.


Lesson: No wonder, Statutory warnings are in RED

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Shh...Don't talk about it


It was bright day. There was a kitty party at a friend's. That meant"No Coooking". Yippee. The theme for the day was white. So I fished out a white salwar kameez from the big dump in the wardrobe and started brushing my hair. The TV was on and was enjoying the live telecast of Asian Games. Suddenly it struck. A shooting pain in the .....you know where. Again and again the spasms took the breath out of me. Though we all say the sentence each time someone is unpleasant, I knew for first time how bad it can get.

Tears rolled down without even crying. The pain was excruciating. I called my friends to let them know that I would not be able join them for the party. Immediately, they wanted to know the reason. Now how do you tell another person that you have a pain ....you know where. I said" tummyache". They said they are coming over to enquire. I could not stop them. So I gathered my courage to spell it out. They came with medicine, one of them being a doc's wife. I have pain around the openings , I said. Openings...what openings, the engineer's wife wanted to know. Thankfully the other understood. She was a Gastro's daughter too.

The pain was unbearable now. So I called hubby and he came over. My friends were there. I lost shame in pain. I burst out "My *&# is paining". Poor guy. He turned the deepest red. I could not stand straight. They helped me to the lift. On ground floor, the caretaker wanted to know what the problem was. Before I blurted out anything, poor hubby said "backache". At the hospital, the first attendant was a male. Hubby had gone to park the car. So this time over he was lucky not to hear it. They gave me an injection, ran me through tests including a scan and found nothing significant. But the pain killer helped. And I learnt the meaning of the oft used phrase.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Whose MOM

"Whose MOM is it?" This is the all important question in political circles of New Delhi. Wondering what I'm talking about. It's about the one of the most significant achievements of India's space history. The launch of Mangalyan and its reaching the red planet Mars in the maiden attempt. MOM has too many Dads now. Manmohanji, Modi Ji, yehji, wohji, sabhiji want to be part of the success. ISRO's scientists don't matter at all. The poor men and women who had sleepless nights working out he atronomical calculations and planning are nobodies!!. The TV channels are cashing on with debates between the jingoistic spokespersons for parties at prime time. I think not even one channel took the trouble to introduce the core team for the mission. They just interviewed one or two and went tothe politicos who promised more masala, more ad revenue.

The evening show was sickening. Uncle Sam's vehicle is also on Mars orbit. Modi is in USA. Most probably the planets foresee a great future for the nations. But, please remember to honour those scientists with something worthwhile.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

God save the snakes in God's Own country

Kerala teethers. No known medicine can save the state. People who used to drink once a while have become dipsomaniacs. Poor Malayali has no will to live. Live for what with a virtual prohibition in place. Come 12th September, the state's innumerable Bars will fade into history. Booze will only be available in 5 star hotels.

The folkore songs will disappear as there will be no singers. It is a cultural blockade. Only one thing is sure. Bootlegging will be the order of the day. Mahe will have tourist influx. The sun , sand and surf will regain its natural splendour with no tourists to pollute.

The snakes in the state will be overworked. People will queue up for a nice sting. God save the snakes in God's Own country.

Monday, November 25, 2013

One day at a gas agency

By gas agency, I mean the LPG cylinder or cooking gas agency as we see in India. Kerala, where I live is facing acute shortage of cylinders. One of my cousins runs a gas agency. For the last two months he has heard all kinds of ablatives and cuss words from consumers who wait for long periods.

One fine morning, in walks a autorickshaw driver with a can of kerosene.

" I need a cylinder now or I will set myself afire!"

Cousin sprang up shouting, "Everyone, out! Fans off. Fast."

Everyone rushes out. The auto driver is blinking.

Cousin and staff pull down the shutter.

Cousin peeps in through the window, " Go ahead , friend. Do whatever you desire"

"Are you making fun of me", asks the inflamed customer

"No, no. Go ahead. I can't help. The cylinder is in godown, but since you can't collect it, you have to wait for your turn. We have a backlog to clear"

"You should have told me."

"I did last 2 times"

"Ok. Now open up. I will collect it."

Shutter opens. Staff walks in. Fans come on. Auto driver walks out.

Moral: Threats have different effects on different people.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Brand Identity

Its festive season in Kerala. Brands vie with one another to catch attention and the moolah. A visit to the Mall with a visiting niece the other day was interesting. The Wrangler Showroom had a Buy One Get ONe FREE offer. In we walked. The trim niece started to try out a few outfits. A particular one was a bit oversize for her. The outfit was a perfect piece. I gave in to temptation of trying it on. For people who don't know me, let be give a brief description of self.


Almost forty, Greying hair left unkempt, getting into classic pear shape, a very rotund face , a bit shy of 5'6"', mostly clad in baggy salwars to hide unpleasant curves.

But human....so gave in to temptation

The layout of the store was longish with the trial rooms wedged into a corner. A mirror was kept outside the rooms too.

I tried it on, rather pushed myself in, took one look at the mirror. A nice little pillow stared back at me. Displeased, dejected, I took it off. When I opened the door, the niece saw me in the baggy salwar suit.

"Didn't you try it on? Doesn't it fit?"

Miffed, I replied, " It fits but looks odd on a pair of salwars. Let's get a pair of Jeans to go with that"

I gesture to the attendant," Can you get me the largest pair of Jeans"

He hands me a pair of tight fit white jeans size 34 and has a devil's smirk

I choose not to notice. I walk back in, try to pull up the horrible pair, but can’t get even beyond the knee. Sad, I get back into the salwars, with the nice chequered top on and peep out. My niece has a peculiar look much like a rotten tomato. I scamper back into the comfort of trial room.

After this exercise, we choose another top for her, pay for one and get out and move to the music cum books store where hubby and sons are whiling the time away. I tell them about the offer and soon the whole bandwagon makes a beeline to the store. Now hubby dear is pot bellied 6’ foot guy who has this habit of asking for T shirts with pocket at the most trendiest of stores. He started with that and as usual got a negative for an answer.

Son and Hubby tried on different shirts. One of those had one button blue and rest red. I remarked, “Wrangler tailor made a mistake”. The attendant who might have surmised that we were a band of illiterate lots filled in with passion.

“Wrangler means a Cowboy”

“Yeah much like our Lord Krishna, the Gwala,” I filled in jokingly.

The attendant looked hurt.

Now, that’s Brand Identity.



Thursday, May 31, 2012

Results Time


Our neighbor could not find his roll number in the results. His teacher who likes him very much went to the new Principal’s room and …

 “How can this happen?”, said the teacher
“ The student’s result is missing”,  he added
“ May he did not appear for the exam”, offered the Principal
“But, he, Dis appeared for the exam. I know”

Now the new Principal looked harried, blinked twice
“But, he, Dis appeared for the exam. I know”, continued the excited teacher

The principal was lost. He tried his level best to keep a straight expression.
“Surely, if he disappeared, he can’t have a result”, he tried to prove a point.

“You don’t understand Sir”, said the teacher seeing the light.
The Principal’s blood pressure now started to rise.

“The student’s name is Dis. He has appeared for all exams”


Few years later, I heard that our neighbor was Dis appointed at the local University.