Sunday, May 29, 2011

Bollywood Ishtyle

After living in a country which has strived for almost two decades for something "cool", I have realized the true imitation potential of its citizens. Some choose to go public and some practice covertly. It isn’t easy to implant hypothetical genes of your favorite chocolaty actor or curvy actress inside your chromosomes. It requires a lot of practice, dedication and hard work but after you have successfully copied and created an identical ABC actor or a clone within yourself, now comes the time to flaunt your blatant act publicly. (But if implantation jeopardizes  the end results can hang you between bizarre and WTF is this? I'm not accusing Rohit Bal in any case here.) Assuming that majority have successfully completed the positioning of "alien" genes into their cells, it is now time for spectators to witness this turmoil (the exact word, though less brutal). The copycats always prejudice their AoI (Act of Imitation) as an unmatched manoeuvre, this momentarily happiness and modesty doesn't allow the "normal's" to break the jinx.

I never knew Chopra Uncle; my neighbor, was such an obsessive imitator of "Vijay Deenanath Chauhan." He would always croon his Father, Mother and Village name and his exact “age.” Apparently his DOB is his Facebook login password. I once saw him in a chat with Shobha aunty; Durgesh uncle's wife. But that is an off topic discussion. Chopra uncle has successfully managed to turn his family to a new and most widely practiced religion in India; bollywood. His wife had lately emerged as a strong Madhuri Dixit worshiper. She always seems to crave for a perfect day and every year selects holi to be the D-day for display of her AoI. Chopra aunty is found draped in a green Saree. When the maximum crowd is ogling her she start dancing on “Hum pe ye kisne hara rang dala.” Saree in his daughter’s wardrobe dictionary is an obsolete. According to her virtues; "draping self in a saree is so-not-like-Katrina" (Said in a fake UK accent). 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Interview: Osama Unplugged

Image courtesy- The Times of India 
With the assassination of world’s #1 most wanted terrorist, Osama Bin Laden; America is living in peace. Whining and winning go hand in hand, (let us say “Clinton—Bush” – “Obama.”) The only place which went with an atmosphere of non-celebration was journalist’s headquarters’ building. With a “dream” of interviewing Osama once in life died with Osama for them. They were left so much dishearten that channels had almost started showing the actual news. Then came a "boy" out of nowhere who posted Osama's interview on his blog; unreal, right!?!

He was sitting by the clouds when a care taker called Osama to attend a call from Earth for a special interview. Obama Osama went flabbergasted. Not expecting a fame call can make you go dumb, so got Osama. “Who are you? Human or Jihadi”, asked Osama. “Sir, I am a blogger who wants to interview you and make some money out of it” was his lame reply.

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Open Letter to a Classmate

Dear classmate,

How are you? I hope you are “doing” fine. I am writing this letter to convey my sincere regards to you. I find these days of summers as the most promising time to pen my mind down to you perhaps because it will satisfy my itch to thank you for everything. It gives me immense pleasure to write to you. Please bear with me.

You can make me go to sleep, anytime!
It has been a long time, precisely few months less in a couple of year that I’m watching your face everyday just for the sake of attendance. It wasn’t long that you suddenly drift away from me and started your own “Anti-Me Campaign”; it was really heartening to see how hard you tried to expand your “jihadi” group which started from two and ended up with only one; you.

I want to clear my doubts with you in this post. I like the way you every time try to flaunt how cool you are against me. It makes me believe that “I’m also cool”. Blasting a bomb in college campus is not a heroic act rather I call it "kiddish." I had stopped doing this since I was in 8th standard, now it is boring. You call yourself a “beer frenetic” but you always avoid visiting a bar, even the one with the cheapest rates. You promised to throw a big lavish birthday party for your “friends” but were absent for straight 7 days from the date of your birthday (excluding Sunday). On the 8th day you gave your birthday treat as a “free” Corneto to everyone, of course except me.