Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Shining Star
Shining star
At Twilight when the sprinkling dust
Blinds the horizon line among the ripples of ocean,
Above at skies, a glimmer of ray
Past the eyes of a beholder with love
Shining star! Oh shining star!
You are there during day and night
Upon me coining the halo.
Dimness falls, dusk to storm
Rolling clouds exhausting surf
Skies twirl to murky tavern
The ray seems like a lantern on a storming ship
Shining star ! Oh Shining star!
You are accelerating to the wild
Upon me with a thorn crown.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Eau de 30000
I was reading this joke last day .It goes like this. This person gets into a public transport bus and sees a
Handkerchief on one seat. So he asks the guy ,who is sitting next to it, Whatz it about and other guy tells
"oh , this seat is mine, I'd booked for my friend".
So this guy asks ," So if u put your dhoti/lungi on the top of this bus , Will the bus be yours?
Well the point is , itz all about seat. If you look back, years down to your life, you can see how much, seats have influenced in your life. I mean the position of the seat, the whereabouts of 't, the howabouts of this small space occupied.
Teachers would love to hate the back benchers, people would love to peek the front row at the cinema-theatres, the aristocrat would love to raise their wig/hat heads on the first row in an opera, the Business class people lookin’ at the economy class..
oh! itz an endless list!
Even when you do the booking for a good seat for a cinema or during a long haul flight... whatever..
But always this might not turn to be a good experience.. Maybe good is not the right word!
12 years ago I came to Amsterdam for my work and once a year I go to India, to visit my parents, friends and more to walk around with an Amsterdam University T-shirt or a T-shirt with a weed mark with Holland printed!
Actually the last were 'the' more interesting and even I plan, how to do it and where !
Living in Amsterdam was fun filled days and Once in a while my boss used to visit us from India.
Boss visiting is fun visiting.
Fun means, more booze and more food. Well we used to do the same other days also.
But this time the company pays, so itz fun!.
Even throwing up is fun. Because you are not throwing up your hardwork! , you are throwing up your company's profit! ha!
We used to discuss a lot about the emerging markets in India to the open fish markets in Amsterdam!
Anyway , Once
......
during one of the talk session, my boss was mentioning about the seat he got at the flight and he was explaining the comfort of his seat. He was telling this seat was near the exit door.
You know those seat where you can stretch your legs and if you are really lucky you can also see the good looking airhostess lookin at you and you look at her,(during take off and landing) thinking about a date with her!
My boss said thatz the best seat you can get, especially for a long haul , have 3 drinks and just sleep , after 9 hours , you won't feel any weariness. It will be as fresh as after a smoke after a ... you know.. ..you dirty minded rascals.. after a good dinner ;)!
But then I asked him , but since those seats are limited , it will be much in demanding and he told me a good trick.You should ask for the seat number. Just make up some story and try to get that. Don't ask specifically for the seat near the exit door. You might not get it!
I asked my boss's , the seat number. He gave me the one.
Since I have to fly in 2 weeks time to India,I was the first person among the clan to try and achieve this trophy.
(Already this seat was Trophy for us!)
So on the day of my journey,head raised, plans planned, at the Airport, I walked to the counter and there was this good looking girl behind the counter .
(Especially when you are bachelor , at airport counters, all counters , all are always good looking and when you are married they just get prettier. Don't know why. But everyone agrees with me ;)
So I walked , started with a Colgate smile ,(not showing all my teeth) , gave my ticket and passport. While she was checking my passport , I just asked her,casual tone to the highest, Can I have this seat number,(the magic number) because that number is very lucky for me . I also told that I am goin home for an important mission (wearing T-shirts , Mission #1, I thought!) and she just looked at the chart and said ,sure sir. That seat is available and looked at me. Definitely not a Mona Lisa smile.
I asked for an Aisle seat .
I took the boarding ticket and I wanted to shout. "I know how to get this seat. I know how to play the game
IATA is my family. blah blah.."
Short time later, I got into the plane , looked up and calculate and could figure out, should be the first one near the exit door. (There were more than one exit door)
So straight away walked to it , casually looked up at the number and saw completely different number!!!!!!
I was like, in midst of an atomic fusion. I was thinking , how this can be. This can't be true!
My boss or the girl behind the counter , some one really hates me. Anyway now I have to find my real seat(hoping for the next exit door) .But I knew now I have to walk back .So magic seat is history now and when I reached the number of my seat ,
The seat which I'd asked for .... I tricked for .... was the one ..The very next to the toilet! And that too I asked for the aisle seat !
(Remember those old planes where you have seat next to the toilet)
Now for the next 9 hrs I have to sit there and pray for a bottle of chloroform!
9 hrs!
Well can't sleep at all. Who will sleep near the furnace , on an Indian summer afternoon!
Well, many things I noticed!
-The first 10 minutes from the take off, everything looks smooth. The moment the sign to 'safe to remove the seat belt' flashes, it seems that there are some group of people who were holding all this time and they just want to go to the loo at a certain height from sea level!
-There are some other people who would love it when it is in turbulence.
-But once after the food and during the nap break , the rush is almost controlled. But after that , when the lights are on , for the next 30 minutes, it's like Either now or never! Lines are bigger than you actually saw at the airport counter!.
-Those 30 minutes, you think of all the documentaries about gas chambers, invention of anesthesia ,poultry farm, those garbage trucks....
-Finally there are some other people who will hold for 9 hrs and they would like to go when the plane is
about to land ! They just want to do on their mother land aero-space! Talking about patriotism!
Actually before leaving the plane , on the suggestion paper I want to write , why can't there be an Oxygen mask only for those special seats plus 50% off for the price for those seats plus drinks every hour plus free medic care once you are landed plus ...
Later ...
We figured it out , why I got the wrong seat ! My boss did'nt tell me and I never asked him !
The model of the plane were different!
~--------------------------------------~
To my boss(ex)(Arun Menon),Whom I'd enjoyed more than any other boss.. A friend .. A brother ..(& a great sense of humour) who have interviewed my first job and gave me my first job @IT and never asked me for a treat when I got my first pay check! ;)
Handkerchief on one seat. So he asks the guy ,who is sitting next to it, Whatz it about and other guy tells
"oh , this seat is mine, I'd booked for my friend".
So this guy asks ," So if u put your dhoti/lungi on the top of this bus , Will the bus be yours?
Well the point is , itz all about seat. If you look back, years down to your life, you can see how much, seats have influenced in your life. I mean the position of the seat, the whereabouts of 't, the howabouts of this small space occupied.
Teachers would love to hate the back benchers, people would love to peek the front row at the cinema-theatres, the aristocrat would love to raise their wig/hat heads on the first row in an opera, the Business class people lookin’ at the economy class..
oh! itz an endless list!
Even when you do the booking for a good seat for a cinema or during a long haul flight... whatever..
But always this might not turn to be a good experience.. Maybe good is not the right word!
12 years ago I came to Amsterdam for my work and once a year I go to India, to visit my parents, friends and more to walk around with an Amsterdam University T-shirt or a T-shirt with a weed mark with Holland printed!
Actually the last were 'the' more interesting and even I plan, how to do it and where !
Living in Amsterdam was fun filled days and Once in a while my boss used to visit us from India.
Boss visiting is fun visiting.
Fun means, more booze and more food. Well we used to do the same other days also.
But this time the company pays, so itz fun!.
Even throwing up is fun. Because you are not throwing up your hardwork! , you are throwing up your company's profit! ha!
We used to discuss a lot about the emerging markets in India to the open fish markets in Amsterdam!
Anyway , Once
...
during one of the talk session, my boss was mentioning about the seat he got at the flight and he was explaining the comfort of his seat. He was telling this seat was near the exit door.
You know those seat where you can stretch your legs and if you are really lucky you can also see the good looking airhostess lookin at you and you look at her,(during take off and landing) thinking about a date with her!
My boss said thatz the best seat you can get, especially for a long haul , have 3 drinks and just sleep , after 9 hours , you won't feel any weariness. It will be as fresh as after a smoke after a ... you know.. ..you dirty minded rascals.. after a good dinner ;)!
But then I asked him , but since those seats are limited , it will be much in demanding and he told me a good trick.You should ask for the seat number. Just make up some story and try to get that. Don't ask specifically for the seat near the exit door. You might not get it!
I asked my boss's , the seat number. He gave me the one.
Since I have to fly in 2 weeks time to India,I was the first person among the clan to try and achieve this trophy.
(Already this seat was Trophy for us!)
So on the day of my journey,head raised, plans planned, at the Airport, I walked to the counter and there was this good looking girl behind the counter .
(Especially when you are bachelor , at airport counters, all counters , all are always good looking and when you are married they just get prettier. Don't know why. But everyone agrees with me ;)
So I walked , started with a Colgate smile ,(not showing all my teeth) , gave my ticket and passport. While she was checking my passport , I just asked her,casual tone to the highest, Can I have this seat number,(the magic number) because that number is very lucky for me . I also told that I am goin home for an important mission (wearing T-shirts , Mission #1, I thought!) and she just looked at the chart and said ,sure sir. That seat is available and looked at me. Definitely not a Mona Lisa smile.
I asked for an Aisle seat .
I took the boarding ticket and I wanted to shout. "I know how to get this seat. I know how to play the game
IATA is my family. blah blah.."
Short time later, I got into the plane , looked up and calculate and could figure out, should be the first one near the exit door. (There were more than one exit door)
So straight away walked to it , casually looked up at the number and saw completely different number!!!!!!
I was like, in midst of an atomic fusion. I was thinking , how this can be. This can't be true!
My boss or the girl behind the counter , some one really hates me. Anyway now I have to find my real seat(hoping for the next exit door) .But I knew now I have to walk back .So magic seat is history now and when I reached the number of my seat ,
The seat which I'd asked for .... I tricked for .... was the one ..The very next to the toilet! And that too I asked for the aisle seat !
(Remember those old planes where you have seat next to the toilet)
Now for the next 9 hrs I have to sit there and pray for a bottle of chloroform!
9 hrs!
Well can't sleep at all. Who will sleep near the furnace , on an Indian summer afternoon!
Well, many things I noticed!
-The first 10 minutes from the take off, everything looks smooth. The moment the sign to 'safe to remove the seat belt' flashes, it seems that there are some group of people who were holding all this time and they just want to go to the loo at a certain height from sea level!
-There are some other people who would love it when it is in turbulence.
-But once after the food and during the nap break , the rush is almost controlled. But after that , when the lights are on , for the next 30 minutes, it's like Either now or never! Lines are bigger than you actually saw at the airport counter!.
-Those 30 minutes, you think of all the documentaries about gas chambers, invention of anesthesia ,poultry farm, those garbage trucks....
-Finally there are some other people who will hold for 9 hrs and they would like to go when the plane is
about to land ! They just want to do on their mother land aero-space! Talking about patriotism!
Actually before leaving the plane , on the suggestion paper I want to write , why can't there be an Oxygen mask only for those special seats plus 50% off for the price for those seats plus drinks every hour plus free medic care once you are landed plus ...
Later ...
We figured it out , why I got the wrong seat ! My boss did'nt tell me and I never asked him !
The model of the plane were different!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The lottery man and the Parrot man
This is my first attempt for a short story. So excuse the limitations! - Knobz
I held his hand tightly. I am not sure whether my dad realized that. He just held it firm, like always. Whenever my dad goes to the shop to buy a packet of cigarettes or a loaf of bread, like an enlightenment , I just sense it . I will run to him and he knows what is that athletic deed meant to.
Holding on my dad’s right hand , waving my left hand up and down and walking along with him ,was absolute royal to me. Because the people who walk across us will either give a respectful nod or will stop for a word or two.
"How are you , you naughty" , pinching my cheeks , sometimes gets me so angry. But I don't know what fun my dad and the other person find in that small mark he or she makes on my cheek
During the monsoon , sometimes, I just walk ahead of my dad , love to splatter the little water reservoir, set on the sides of the road.
"Moneeey.. Careful ".. I know eventhough ,he was actually enjoying the little acrobat from me ,the careful was only for those sharp stones or any glass pieces down the reservoir, which is almost invisible.
The water is always muddy, but the spatter always shines a twinkles on me.
There was this person , who used to sell the lottery tickets. The lottery man. A short man , bald head, grey colored moustache. On his thick hands , the big steel plated watch strap shines , but the glass on the watch was always kind of foggy, specially the centred space . Sometimes I wonder, did it come with the watch, because it was always there!
On the brown board , with different shapes and colors of different paper clippers , I could see the various small strips of paper, the lottery tickets, on different colours .Some had the pictures of the Lion emblem, some had the map of my country, some had some farmers with some bullock carts....
All were very colorful.
On that small sliced papers, there were numbers blotting on every edge.
I could see this so vivid, because whenever he sees my dad , he will leave his hands down and then the board with the painted lottery papers are so close to my eye level and I could see almost everything in it. I just watch 'em astound.
"So, How are things with the selling ?". Everytime their conversation will start with this, starting with my dad, no matter if my dad had seen him the previous day, previous week or the previous month.
" Sir, by god's grace , luckily there will be only a few little tickets left apart from sale. Well as u know I just keep it, to try my luck in it!".
Usually that will be the same response!
" Well I also should try my luck , shouldn't I? , my dad as always.
" Bhutan, Himachal, Kerala, Amaravathi..., anything Sir"
" Give me the one which is for today or tomorrow. I can't wait for my luck till next week", dad said with a wishful thinking.
I knew from their conversation , the Lottery man is also from my dad's native place. So I could hear sometimes some common talks and common names. Some times a dead news makes a still or two between them.
Usually, again a pinch on my cheek have to disrupt that silence.
My Dad used to buy one or two lotteries from him. This was like praying to two different gods at the same time. He can make the lottery man happy and moreoever he can also try his luck.
Most of the times I could hear his murmuring ." This time I could finish off my debts"
The lottery man used to come to our home ,in case if he miss seeing my dad at streets or if the sale is too low or maybe both reasons or maybe not both reasons.
But he was there always. My dad was also happy to see him.. Trying his luck at one side , to some talk and news from his native, the Lottery man was always welcome to our house.. My Mom used to get him a cup of tea. So all together the frame looks like a very big happy family.
It was during this time , The lottery man introduced my dad The Parrot man .
Well he was not looking like a Parrot or wearing always a green attire, it is just because he travels with a cage .Inside it I could see a parrot ,whose beak always make the tap sound from sides and bottom of the cage.
The parrot man was a dark man .His face had scars , a big black mole on his cheek and on his neck there were many chains with many lockets. Some were really scary , some were bright as a red petal , some were dark as a black stone. I always thought he was a magician. Apparently for many reasons. One thing was whenever he opens the cage, the parrot never flies. I always thought about the parrots, one they got loose, they just flew to the farthest. It is one impossible for some one to get it again.
Another magical reason was when the Parrot man spreads some cards on the floor next to the cage and he opens the cage and tells something in some language ,Parrot language, the parrot comes out , look the cards, seek a card and handles to the Parrot man and returning to the cage,willingly. I was like "God, he is so powerful".
Sometimes, my admiration to my dad also grew a lot.Apparently for one special reason!
I'd seen my dad smoking in front of this parrot man. The magician. God man. That is brave for me! True Bravery.
The Parrot man ,then ,looks the card, explains my dad about his future, his problems, his health . He even tells to be careful of some of his friends and my mom will point out a name or two then!
This was getting like a routine. The lottery man and the Parrot man at the courtyard of my house, Dad testing his luck along with astrology . The tea session. Mom asserting the same names! The parrot was like a brother to me. That much attention ,this bird in the cage was getting from all of us.
So, as much as ,I was growing , I could see the friendship between the lottery man and the Parrot man was augmenting.
One day the lottery man asked the Parrot man about his future and he spread the cards, asked the parrot and finally looked the card and he said
" Well you will be rich one day, but then you would wish you were poor like now!"
The parrot man was always into his philosophy. He always tells , Money always brings bad things to life.
" Ha Ha ! I have to . My job is selling lottery and one day I will get a good commission from the ticket I sell which gets the jack pot.”, lottery man said with a hilarious laugh.
"So how about yours" , asked the lottery man.
"Well I tried a couple of times and everytime the parrot takes the same card!"
"And what does this card indicates" ,lotteryman in thrilling tone
"I think I will be killed by a rich man " , explains the Parrotman, that his philosophy against rich people will offend some rich person one day,some day and one or two will try to kill him and one might succeed!
And they both of them will laugh hysterically.
So I wonder, so whether it is a gag they ponder, or it is a fact he recount.
I was growing up. I slowly start understanding the neuro science between the lottery and the Parrot! The debts were growing. And the two new members and the bird were now the new ingredients of our family. Seeking for my higher school studies , my dad send me to my Uncle's house which was in a metro city, a bit far where I live .
Holidays were less, so my visit to my home was also less. For long holidays , ,my parents used to come my Uncle's place and then we will all go and see something, some one have to wonder!
Usually no one !
Five years I was there ,until my high school got over. By that time there was a new College , near my Parent's house , which has just started. My Mom really wanted me to go to that college. She wants me to go from home. She wanted her son to have breakfast from her, lunch from her, tea from her , dinner from her. She was just missing her son and I was missing my home.
So I was back to my old room, old comics, old trees ,the courtyard, the swing, my old friends.
The streets were still old, but better. There were more traffic and more strangers in the streets.
One day as I was walking with my dad to the shop, I asked my dad about the lottery man and the Parrot man.
My dad said , " oh its a sad story"
"The Parrot man killed by the lottery man"
"How" ? I asked, dismayed.
"It just started as an drama act at the local toddy shop and finally ended at the stabbing!.
"The stabbing was not deliberate, though!. “
There was a broken glass piece lying there , The Lotteryman took it and was acting like a Villain , as we see in the movies.”
But he was so drunk, he slipped and the glass piece just pierced the Parrot man’s stomach"
" But they never used to get drunk ", I asked , dumbfounded, because I know they both had too little money to drink a lot.
" You are right. They were celebrating . The lottery man had just won the first prize with one of his left over ticket", my dad said .
~_________________~
The lottery man and the Parrot man
I held his hand tightly. I am not sure whether my dad realized that. He just held it firm, like always. Whenever my dad goes to the shop to buy a packet of cigarettes or a loaf of bread, like an enlightenment , I just sense it . I will run to him and he knows what is that athletic deed meant to.
Holding on my dad’s right hand , waving my left hand up and down and walking along with him ,was absolute royal to me. Because the people who walk across us will either give a respectful nod or will stop for a word or two.
"How are you , you naughty" , pinching my cheeks , sometimes gets me so angry. But I don't know what fun my dad and the other person find in that small mark he or she makes on my cheek
During the monsoon , sometimes, I just walk ahead of my dad , love to splatter the little water reservoir, set on the sides of the road.
"Moneeey.. Careful ".. I know eventhough ,he was actually enjoying the little acrobat from me ,the careful was only for those sharp stones or any glass pieces down the reservoir, which is almost invisible.
The water is always muddy, but the spatter always shines a twinkles on me.
There was this person , who used to sell the lottery tickets. The lottery man. A short man , bald head, grey colored moustache. On his thick hands , the big steel plated watch strap shines , but the glass on the watch was always kind of foggy, specially the centred space . Sometimes I wonder, did it come with the watch, because it was always there!
On the brown board , with different shapes and colors of different paper clippers , I could see the various small strips of paper, the lottery tickets, on different colours .Some had the pictures of the Lion emblem, some had the map of my country, some had some farmers with some bullock carts....
All were very colorful.
On that small sliced papers, there were numbers blotting on every edge.
I could see this so vivid, because whenever he sees my dad , he will leave his hands down and then the board with the painted lottery papers are so close to my eye level and I could see almost everything in it. I just watch 'em astound.
"So, How are things with the selling ?". Everytime their conversation will start with this, starting with my dad, no matter if my dad had seen him the previous day, previous week or the previous month.
" Sir, by god's grace , luckily there will be only a few little tickets left apart from sale. Well as u know I just keep it, to try my luck in it!".
Usually that will be the same response!
" Well I also should try my luck , shouldn't I? , my dad as always.
" Bhutan, Himachal, Kerala, Amaravathi..., anything Sir"
" Give me the one which is for today or tomorrow. I can't wait for my luck till next week", dad said with a wishful thinking.
I knew from their conversation , the Lottery man is also from my dad's native place. So I could hear sometimes some common talks and common names. Some times a dead news makes a still or two between them.
Usually, again a pinch on my cheek have to disrupt that silence.
My Dad used to buy one or two lotteries from him. This was like praying to two different gods at the same time. He can make the lottery man happy and moreoever he can also try his luck.
Most of the times I could hear his murmuring ." This time I could finish off my debts"
The lottery man used to come to our home ,in case if he miss seeing my dad at streets or if the sale is too low or maybe both reasons or maybe not both reasons.
But he was there always. My dad was also happy to see him.. Trying his luck at one side , to some talk and news from his native, the Lottery man was always welcome to our house.. My Mom used to get him a cup of tea. So all together the frame looks like a very big happy family.
It was during this time , The lottery man introduced my dad The Parrot man .
Well he was not looking like a Parrot or wearing always a green attire, it is just because he travels with a cage .Inside it I could see a parrot ,whose beak always make the tap sound from sides and bottom of the cage.
The parrot man was a dark man .His face had scars , a big black mole on his cheek and on his neck there were many chains with many lockets. Some were really scary , some were bright as a red petal , some were dark as a black stone. I always thought he was a magician. Apparently for many reasons. One thing was whenever he opens the cage, the parrot never flies. I always thought about the parrots, one they got loose, they just flew to the farthest. It is one impossible for some one to get it again.
Another magical reason was when the Parrot man spreads some cards on the floor next to the cage and he opens the cage and tells something in some language ,Parrot language, the parrot comes out , look the cards, seek a card and handles to the Parrot man and returning to the cage,willingly. I was like "God, he is so powerful".
Sometimes, my admiration to my dad also grew a lot.Apparently for one special reason!
I'd seen my dad smoking in front of this parrot man. The magician. God man. That is brave for me! True Bravery.
The Parrot man ,then ,looks the card, explains my dad about his future, his problems, his health . He even tells to be careful of some of his friends and my mom will point out a name or two then!
This was getting like a routine. The lottery man and the Parrot man at the courtyard of my house, Dad testing his luck along with astrology . The tea session. Mom asserting the same names! The parrot was like a brother to me. That much attention ,this bird in the cage was getting from all of us.
So, as much as ,I was growing , I could see the friendship between the lottery man and the Parrot man was augmenting.
One day the lottery man asked the Parrot man about his future and he spread the cards, asked the parrot and finally looked the card and he said
" Well you will be rich one day, but then you would wish you were poor like now!"
The parrot man was always into his philosophy. He always tells , Money always brings bad things to life.
" Ha Ha ! I have to . My job is selling lottery and one day I will get a good commission from the ticket I sell which gets the jack pot.”, lottery man said with a hilarious laugh.
"So how about yours" , asked the lottery man.
"Well I tried a couple of times and everytime the parrot takes the same card!"
"And what does this card indicates" ,lotteryman in thrilling tone
"I think I will be killed by a rich man " , explains the Parrotman, that his philosophy against rich people will offend some rich person one day,some day and one or two will try to kill him and one might succeed!
And they both of them will laugh hysterically.
So I wonder, so whether it is a gag they ponder, or it is a fact he recount.
I was growing up. I slowly start understanding the neuro science between the lottery and the Parrot! The debts were growing. And the two new members and the bird were now the new ingredients of our family. Seeking for my higher school studies , my dad send me to my Uncle's house which was in a metro city, a bit far where I live .
Holidays were less, so my visit to my home was also less. For long holidays , ,my parents used to come my Uncle's place and then we will all go and see something, some one have to wonder!
Usually no one !
Five years I was there ,until my high school got over. By that time there was a new College , near my Parent's house , which has just started. My Mom really wanted me to go to that college. She wants me to go from home. She wanted her son to have breakfast from her, lunch from her, tea from her , dinner from her. She was just missing her son and I was missing my home.
So I was back to my old room, old comics, old trees ,the courtyard, the swing, my old friends.
The streets were still old, but better. There were more traffic and more strangers in the streets.
One day as I was walking with my dad to the shop, I asked my dad about the lottery man and the Parrot man.
My dad said , " oh its a sad story"
"The Parrot man killed by the lottery man"
"How" ? I asked, dismayed.
"It just started as an drama act at the local toddy shop and finally ended at the stabbing!.
"The stabbing was not deliberate, though!. “
There was a broken glass piece lying there , The Lotteryman took it and was acting like a Villain , as we see in the movies.”
But he was so drunk, he slipped and the glass piece just pierced the Parrot man’s stomach"
" But they never used to get drunk ", I asked , dumbfounded, because I know they both had too little money to drink a lot.
" You are right. They were celebrating . The lottery man had just won the first prize with one of his left over ticket", my dad said .
~_________________~
Friday, February 19, 2010
Fridge over the troubled minds
At my first work place in India , When I was called by my HR for my first overseas assignment, an ode to joy was hummin inside me in C major! and my first destination was to Lisbon.,Portugal
Europe's Western Coast !
Europe!
All I knew about her was thru my Geography teacher and the weed looks of the European Tourists walkin' down the streets of Cochin. Well the excitement 'n my flight trip 'n the clouds streaks 'n Portuguese cobble stones, all will be blogged later.
This is somethin' else ... I still wonder …. how I wonder….
I was assigned to a small bank in Lisbon . I was workin' on a big hall with some 20 odd people. Everything was new to me. Working in an office full of whites, speaking a language completely Na’vi to me, Even I could smoke at my desk @ work!. So even smokin' was a kinda fun rather not remembering the neuro-science of 't.
Atleast forced not to ..
This bank was on the 12th floor or something and my view was facing the mighty Atlantic. Every day I used to enjoy the sunset.
Every sunset was nature's poetry and was different .
I could sit and watch the horizon until the pole star finally grins on me!
Back to the story,
During lunch hours ,we used to bump to the 3rd floor, the food floor, with different aromas of the Portuguese Cuisine to the kinky junk calories to the grilled Latin steaks …
I was like a kid at an amusement park. Eyes ravin all over, droolin over the menus, jugglin’ with the forks and knifes ;)
The bank people were very friendly to me. So sometimes over a coffee , at a corner of the room, we used to chat bits 'n bytes .Me braggin' about Vasco's en route over the cape of good hope and his burial at my home town, Cochin . (Vasco de gama is from Portugal --> for those who'd slept durin' their History classes;)
Now over to the character of this blog.
Sittin' at a corner, there is this small fridge with some drinks, fruits , sandwich ..
and I'd seen my good Portuguese Colleagues , over the minutes, opening the fridge and takin' some juice or cola or some fruits. So I was thinkin, well I should also try some cola , (don't drink coffee always) , and ofcourse a bite on some cold sandwich or an apple.
Back In India , Where I worked, we had this fridge with bottled water, but no snacks or fruits at all.
So this was like Super Six star Luxury for me.
So when we Chat at the Coffee corner , I open the fridge , take the cola , sometimes the sandwich or a fruit. This was goin' for atleast 2-3 weeks, even sometimes I used to ask, anyone needs a cola or an apple.
And one day , Red day marked in my personal calendar, I realized the truth.
Those things inside the fridge were bought by my Portuguese collegues which they would like to grab a bite during their working hours ,instead of goin all the way down to the ground floor @ the supermarket. They just buy it during lunch hours or get it from home in the morning!!! ( How can I know these things then ?? Stuffin your own bites @the fridge!, back In India , I never stuff dosa or vada or gold spot at the office fridge!)
Now I understood, whenever I open the fridge and take the thing out, some one in the room will be thinking
" Oh my god! Oh my god! He is taking my sandwich or my apple or even he shares my bottle of coke with others!" and some others will be thinkin , wow! Today I am lucky!
To this day whenever I see 'the' small refrigrator in my office, I still have that urge to take out someone's food and get a curse silently!
Europe's Western Coast !
Europe!
All I knew about her was thru my Geography teacher and the weed looks of the European Tourists walkin' down the streets of Cochin. Well the excitement 'n my flight trip 'n the clouds streaks 'n Portuguese cobble stones, all will be blogged later.
This is somethin' else ... I still wonder …. how I wonder….
I was assigned to a small bank in Lisbon . I was workin' on a big hall with some 20 odd people. Everything was new to me. Working in an office full of whites, speaking a language completely Na’vi to me, Even I could smoke at my desk @ work!. So even smokin' was a kinda fun rather not remembering the neuro-science of 't.
Atleast forced not to ..
This bank was on the 12th floor or something and my view was facing the mighty Atlantic. Every day I used to enjoy the sunset.
Every sunset was nature's poetry and was different .
I could sit and watch the horizon until the pole star finally grins on me!
Back to the story,
During lunch hours ,we used to bump to the 3rd floor, the food floor, with different aromas of the Portuguese Cuisine to the kinky junk calories to the grilled Latin steaks …
I was like a kid at an amusement park. Eyes ravin all over, droolin over the menus, jugglin’ with the forks and knifes ;)
The bank people were very friendly to me. So sometimes over a coffee , at a corner of the room, we used to chat bits 'n bytes .Me braggin' about Vasco's en route over the cape of good hope and his burial at my home town, Cochin . (Vasco de gama is from Portugal --> for those who'd slept durin' their History classes;)
Now over to the character of this blog.
Sittin' at a corner, there is this small fridge with some drinks, fruits , sandwich ..
and I'd seen my good Portuguese Colleagues , over the minutes, opening the fridge and takin' some juice or cola or some fruits. So I was thinkin, well I should also try some cola , (don't drink coffee always) , and ofcourse a bite on some cold sandwich or an apple.
Back In India , Where I worked, we had this fridge with bottled water, but no snacks or fruits at all.
So this was like Super Six star Luxury for me.
So when we Chat at the Coffee corner , I open the fridge , take the cola , sometimes the sandwich or a fruit. This was goin' for atleast 2-3 weeks, even sometimes I used to ask, anyone needs a cola or an apple.
And one day , Red day marked in my personal calendar, I realized the truth.
Those things inside the fridge were bought by my Portuguese collegues which they would like to grab a bite during their working hours ,instead of goin all the way down to the ground floor @ the supermarket. They just buy it during lunch hours or get it from home in the morning!!! ( How can I know these things then ?? Stuffin your own bites @the fridge!, back In India , I never stuff dosa or vada or gold spot at the office fridge!)
Now I understood, whenever I open the fridge and take the thing out, some one in the room will be thinking
" Oh my god! Oh my god! He is taking my sandwich or my apple or even he shares my bottle of coke with others!" and some others will be thinkin , wow! Today I am lucky!
To this day whenever I see 'the' small refrigrator in my office, I still have that urge to take out someone's food and get a curse silently!
Friday, January 29, 2010
New Fear !
People use to have fear of flying.. fear of being upthere. fear of being sucked by an airpocket...
fear of turbulence... fear of not getting not more than two 60ml of whisky.. well itz all
fear , 30,000 ft above sea level in a close compartment!
For me .. it was like .. Fear of being fool for one more time..;)..another one more time !
well same place.. different time..
I'd met with different experiences... well not much an artifact.. but some inane , almost close to insane!
It was sometime back I was flyin from Zurich to Bombay(then Bombay.. Now Bombay.. and Tomorrow Bombay)
I got this aisle seat with a middle seat and the window seat next to me. After few minutes, this good looking young Indian girl came and sat on the window seat. She kept her bag on the middle seat. It was way before 9/11 , so no suspicious thoughts! I did'nt have anything to keep , so I kept my mind over the bag ! And I told her. Pray for no one to occupy this seat, so that 'we' can travel in leisure.
What I meant , if I yawn stretching my hands, instead of hitting someon'e face, this might just a brush on the hair ;) and she nodded and gave a smile.
Plane began to move. No one in the middle seat. Looked around for a doctor lookin guy, in case of a cardio , how to tell this girl to give a CPR to me.. Did saw some guys reading Financial times, not understanding a word in it, just to impress the air-hostess and the lady on his eye-view!
Damn! I should've take some FT paper or even that French newspaper. All I have now , is the instruction guide of survival and a duty free magazine. Duty free mag.. was a good option.. but then I don't want to paper shop!
Anyway I was lookin for a pick up line. So just said , wow! seems god heard our prayers. 'Our' was stressed!
Just to convince now 'we' as a team for the next 9 odd hours!
She was doin' her studies in Swiss and I explained my work in Amsterdam and as usual my old jokes , which I'd by hearted before boarding! There comes the air-hostess. Asked for the drink. Request Bacardi and 2 ice. She insist for cola and I politely said , No, Just on rocks will be fine. ( never been so polite to even my family parish priest!) I know this polite will get me another 2 more ;)
The little monitor shouts the movie will be starting in another 5 minutes.
Well took the head-phones, chose the channel , even though my eyes was focused on the girl's screen.
In between exchanging smiles!
Movie started. I glued.
Got the next Bacardi. Again on rocks. The lady is getting prettier. Movie is getting blurred. Plane is still. and I thought! oh ! now she is impressed. with 2 bacardi and still chillin! Easy as a bird.
Got the next Bacardi. Now the air-hostess know what and how much.aha! But this time there was a stirrer in it. the little plastic twig ;) ...I just took the glass and took a sip and at that point of time.. this stirrer went
all the way into my nose. Even the most fast bacteria can't go inside that fast.
All I did was a big yell! from the top of my lungs!
Now.
No more blur! Plane is moving very fast. The girl looks the same as she boarded. She almost jumped from her seat , hearing my yell. She took out the head phones. Tears were rollin down my eyes , like water droplets at the edge of umbrella. one nostril look little reddish/purplish than other!
The next 5 hrs was one of the longest journey I'd ever had !
I don't know whether they have a term for 'fear of stirrers'.. well I had for few years!
fear of turbulence... fear of not getting not more than two 60ml of whisky.. well itz all
fear , 30,000 ft above sea level in a close compartment!
For me .. it was like .. Fear of being fool for one more time..;)..another one more time !
well same place.. different time..
I'd met with different experiences... well not much an artifact.. but some inane , almost close to insane!
It was sometime back I was flyin from Zurich to Bombay(then Bombay.. Now Bombay.. and Tomorrow Bombay)
I got this aisle seat with a middle seat and the window seat next to me. After few minutes, this good looking young Indian girl came and sat on the window seat. She kept her bag on the middle seat. It was way before 9/11 , so no suspicious thoughts! I did'nt have anything to keep , so I kept my mind over the bag ! And I told her. Pray for no one to occupy this seat, so that 'we' can travel in leisure.
What I meant , if I yawn stretching my hands, instead of hitting someon'e face, this might just a brush on the hair ;) and she nodded and gave a smile.
Plane began to move. No one in the middle seat. Looked around for a doctor lookin guy, in case of a cardio , how to tell this girl to give a CPR to me.. Did saw some guys reading Financial times, not understanding a word in it, just to impress the air-hostess and the lady on his eye-view!
Damn! I should've take some FT paper or even that French newspaper. All I have now , is the instruction guide of survival and a duty free magazine. Duty free mag.. was a good option.. but then I don't want to paper shop!
Anyway I was lookin for a pick up line. So just said , wow! seems god heard our prayers. 'Our' was stressed!
Just to convince now 'we' as a team for the next 9 odd hours!
She was doin' her studies in Swiss and I explained my work in Amsterdam and as usual my old jokes , which I'd by hearted before boarding! There comes the air-hostess. Asked for the drink. Request Bacardi and 2 ice. She insist for cola and I politely said , No, Just on rocks will be fine. ( never been so polite to even my family parish priest!) I know this polite will get me another 2 more ;)
The little monitor shouts the movie will be starting in another 5 minutes.
Well took the head-phones, chose the channel , even though my eyes was focused on the girl's screen.
In between exchanging smiles!
Movie started. I glued.
Got the next Bacardi. Again on rocks. The lady is getting prettier. Movie is getting blurred. Plane is still. and I thought! oh ! now she is impressed. with 2 bacardi and still chillin! Easy as a bird.
Got the next Bacardi. Now the air-hostess know what and how much.aha! But this time there was a stirrer in it. the little plastic twig ;) ...I just took the glass and took a sip and at that point of time.. this stirrer went
all the way into my nose. Even the most fast bacteria can't go inside that fast.
All I did was a big yell! from the top of my lungs!
Now.
No more blur! Plane is moving very fast. The girl looks the same as she boarded. She almost jumped from her seat , hearing my yell. She took out the head phones. Tears were rollin down my eyes , like water droplets at the edge of umbrella. one nostril look little reddish/purplish than other!
The next 5 hrs was one of the longest journey I'd ever had !
I don't know whether they have a term for 'fear of stirrers'.. well I had for few years!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Frontier, Forbidden and fruitfulness
Crossing the border line or frontier of your feelings.. itz rather a concealed thought. and thoughts are always hidden. sometimes you , yourself could try to run from yourself.. all ,except that hidden thoughts might follow you .. not might.. it will.. it should.. after all itz hidden.. most of the times . it will just overhaul you and turn back and give you a wild grin..
All you can do is just stare it ... Itz kinda art of stare..
Either you enjoy or you get stoned from it or the culpable thought stubs you.
Saw this somewhere...
Never explain yourself to anyone
because the person who likes you does'nt need it,
the person who dislikes you won't believe it !
..
Well thatz very inspirational.. but coming to your own sphere of your own conscious ..The act of your hidden thought might burst at that very point of time.. a time which can't clock anywhere.
That time , you are in a state of trance or kinda tunnel vision..
Even If, the far bright light at the end of tunnel might look like a furious red eye of a dragon.
Still ...Yet.. ... You don't run from the scope of that creeping voice of that cold blood animal.You don't try to stop the roar of the beast .You don't hide from the stampede of it .
Your brave heart(even if you were a coward in reality) just keeps you there.. The creepers of your thoughts crawls all over ..
The Adrenaline rush , provokes all over the grey matter.. and then.. you just choke and lie numb.. The Sprite.. the immortal sprite awakes...
You just gaze and see the Spiritual Spritual battle.. and it stays there... eyes wide open..
You just unconfined the atrocious image of yourself!
You might sleep... the plants lying at the corner of your living room sleeps..
your neighbour who slams with his heavy metal music all day long sleeps. The dictator who wants to demolish the faith of kingdom sleeps. The terrorist leader who wants to augment his faith with the use of bullets and fire sleeps..
But // But // but the devil inside you is now awake..
either you should make her sleep for ever ( don't want to debate a chauvenistic thought here !) or you
should kill her. No one ever tried.. No one wants to. No one dares to..
Don't know why?
All you can do is just stare it ... Itz kinda art of stare..
Either you enjoy or you get stoned from it or the culpable thought stubs you.
Saw this somewhere...
Never explain yourself to anyone
because the person who likes you does'nt need it,
the person who dislikes you won't believe it !
..
Well thatz very inspirational.. but coming to your own sphere of your own conscious ..The act of your hidden thought might burst at that very point of time.. a time which can't clock anywhere.
That time , you are in a state of trance or kinda tunnel vision..
Even If, the far bright light at the end of tunnel might look like a furious red eye of a dragon.
Still ...Yet.. ... You don't run from the scope of that creeping voice of that cold blood animal.You don't try to stop the roar of the beast .You don't hide from the stampede of it .
Your brave heart(even if you were a coward in reality) just keeps you there.. The creepers of your thoughts crawls all over ..
The Adrenaline rush , provokes all over the grey matter.. and then.. you just choke and lie numb.. The Sprite.. the immortal sprite awakes...
You just gaze and see the Spiritual Spritual battle.. and it stays there... eyes wide open..
You just unconfined the atrocious image of yourself!
You might sleep... the plants lying at the corner of your living room sleeps..
your neighbour who slams with his heavy metal music all day long sleeps. The dictator who wants to demolish the faith of kingdom sleeps. The terrorist leader who wants to augment his faith with the use of bullets and fire sleeps..
But // But // but the devil inside you is now awake..
either you should make her sleep for ever ( don't want to debate a chauvenistic thought here !) or you
should kill her. No one ever tried.. No one wants to. No one dares to..
Don't know why?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
ഒരു മലയാളം ബ്ലോഗ് അപ്പന്റെ പ്രതിസന്ധി !
ഒരു മലയാളം ബ്ലോഗ് ചെയ്യണം എന്ന് കൊറച്ച് നാള് ആയി കൊതിക്കുന്നു. സത്യം പറഞ്ഞാല് ആദ്യത്തെ പ്രശ്നം ഇതു മരിയാതെക്ക് (ഉദാഹരണം ഇതു തന്നെ )..
ആദ്യം' ഉദാഹരണം' എന്ന വാക് തന്നെ ടൈപ്പ് ചെയ്തപ്പോള് പണ്ടു നാണിച്ചു പറഞ്ഞ ഒരു വാക്കാണ് ആദ്യം വന്നത്. പിന്നെ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ച് അടിച്ച് കറക്റ്റ് വാക്ക് കിട്ടി. അടുത്ത കാലത്തെങ്ങും ഇത്രെയും ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ചതായി ഓര്മയില്ല . വാക്കുകള് ടൈപ്പ് ചെയുമ്പോള് 'മലയാല്ലാം' സ്റ്റൈല് ആയാല് ഒരു ഗുണം ഉണ്ട്.
മലയാളം ചാനെല് ലില് എപ്പ അവതാരിക ആയെന്നു ചോദിച്ചെന്നു പറഞ്ഞാല് മതി !
പിന്നെ അടുത്ത കാരിയം (കൊറേ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ചിട്ടും കറക്റ്റ് വാക്ക് വരുന്നില്ല .. ഒരു ലിമിറ്റ് ഇല്ലേ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടികുന്നതില് ).. ഓക്കേ . അടുത്ത കാരിയം .. നല്ല ഒരു പേരു കണ്ടുപിടിക്കുന്നതാണ് . ഒരു മാതിരി പേരുകള് ഒക്കെ എടുത്തു കഴിഞ്ഞു . പിന്നെ ഉള്ളത് പഴയെ മലയാളം സിനിമ പാട്ടു പാടി അതിന്റെ ഇടയില് ഉള്ള കവി പാടുപെട്ടു ഉണ്ടാക്കി കണ്ടുപിടിച്ചു ചെല വാക്കുക്കള് എടുത്തു ചാര് സോ ബീസ് പരുവത്തില് ആകി ഇട്ടു പരീക്ഷികാന് പട്ടുന്താണ് .( വീണ്ടും ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് പ്രശ്നം) മികവാരും എന്റെ ബ്ലോഗ് ഇങ്ങനെ പോയാല് തമിഴും മലയാളല്വും ചാനെല് അവതാരിക ഭാഷ യും ചേര്ന്ന് ഒരു പുതിയ ഭാഷ തന്നെ ആയേക്കാം . ഇനി ഈ പേരില് ആധുനിക മലയാളത്തിന്റെ അപ്പപനെന്നോ അളിയനെന്നോ വല്ല പാരിതോഷികം കിട്ടിയാല് ദിവസം തിന്നുന്ന തോര്രന്റെ (ഇതു പുതിയ കറി ഒന്നും അല്ല .. പച്ചകറിയും തേങ്ങയും മുളക്കും ചേര്ന്ന് ഉണ്ടാകുന്ന ആ സംഭവം ഉണ്ടല്ലോ ..അതാണ് മുപതു ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് കൊണ്ടു പറ്റാഞ്ഞ് അവസാനം ഇങ്ങനെ എഴുതേണ്ടി വന്നത് !) കൂടെയ് ഒരു കോഴി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ഭാഗ്യം വന്നെകാം! ആദ്യം ആയിട്ട് ആയിരിക്കും ഒരാള് ഇങ്ങനെ പറയുന്നത് .. ഒരു കുഞ്ഞി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ഭാഗ്യം ഈശ്വരന് എനിക്ക് തരുമോ . അത് പോലെ .. ഒരു കോഴി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ആഗ്രഹം എനിക്ക് തരുമോ ..
പിന്നെ അടുത്ത കാരിയം (കട്ട് ആന്ഡ് പേസ്റ്റ് )..
ദിവസവും പത്രം വായിക്കണം . അതിലെ ഏറ്റവും വലിയ സംഭവം താമസം രൂപത്തില് ആകണം. ഇവിടെയാണ് ഏറ്റവും വലിയ പ്രശ്നം . ഇപ്പോള് പത്ര വാര്ത്ത തന്നെ തമാശ ആണ്. അത് വായിച്ചു അതിന്നും കൂടുതല് തമാശ ആകണം എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞാല് , അതിന്നും നല്ലതും എളുപ്പവും മിണ്ടാ മഠത്തില് പോയി പന്തളം ശശിയുടെ ഗാനമേള കേള്കുനതാണ് ! അല്ലെങ്കില് സിനിമ കണ്ടു കമ്പ്ലീറ്റ് കുറ്റം പറയണം . സൂപ്പര് താരങ്ങളെ അടിച്ച് താഴ്ത്തി
കേള്കാത്ത കൊറേ ടീംസ് പൊക്കി പറയണം ..
പിന്നെ ശുദ്ധ ഹാസ്യം .. ബാര്ബര് ഷോപ്പ് പോലെയുള്ള വല്ലതും ! ചുരുക്കം പറഞ്ഞാല് ഒരു പേജ് ന്റെ ബ്ലോഗ് എഴുതണമെങ്കില് ചുരുക്കം പന്ത്രണ്ടു മണികൂര് കഷ്ടപ്പെട്ട് ബുദ്ധിമുട്ടി നെടുമുടിച്ചു മുട്ടുകുത്തി എന്തിക്കിലും ചെയണം .. അതിനും നല്ലത് ഇപ്പോള് ഉള്ള ബ്ലോഗ് വായിച്ചു ഫോര്വേഡ് ചെയ്തു ഓഫീസില്ലേയ് സെര്വര് ഹെവി ആകുനതല്ലേയ് ..
അപ്പോള് തല്കാലം ലാല് സലാം
ആദ്യം' ഉദാഹരണം' എന്ന വാക് തന്നെ ടൈപ്പ് ചെയ്തപ്പോള് പണ്ടു നാണിച്ചു പറഞ്ഞ ഒരു വാക്കാണ് ആദ്യം വന്നത്. പിന്നെ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ച് അടിച്ച് കറക്റ്റ് വാക്ക് കിട്ടി. അടുത്ത കാലത്തെങ്ങും ഇത്രെയും ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ചതായി ഓര്മയില്ല . വാക്കുകള് ടൈപ്പ് ചെയുമ്പോള് 'മലയാല്ലാം' സ്റ്റൈല് ആയാല് ഒരു ഗുണം ഉണ്ട്.
മലയാളം ചാനെല് ലില് എപ്പ അവതാരിക ആയെന്നു ചോദിച്ചെന്നു പറഞ്ഞാല് മതി !
പിന്നെ അടുത്ത കാരിയം (കൊറേ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടിച്ചിട്ടും കറക്റ്റ് വാക്ക് വരുന്നില്ല .. ഒരു ലിമിറ്റ് ഇല്ലേ ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് അടികുന്നതില് ).. ഓക്കേ . അടുത്ത കാരിയം .. നല്ല ഒരു പേരു കണ്ടുപിടിക്കുന്നതാണ് . ഒരു മാതിരി പേരുകള് ഒക്കെ എടുത്തു കഴിഞ്ഞു . പിന്നെ ഉള്ളത് പഴയെ മലയാളം സിനിമ പാട്ടു പാടി അതിന്റെ ഇടയില് ഉള്ള കവി പാടുപെട്ടു ഉണ്ടാക്കി കണ്ടുപിടിച്ചു ചെല വാക്കുക്കള് എടുത്തു ചാര് സോ ബീസ് പരുവത്തില് ആകി ഇട്ടു പരീക്ഷികാന് പട്ടുന്താണ് .( വീണ്ടും ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് പ്രശ്നം) മികവാരും എന്റെ ബ്ലോഗ് ഇങ്ങനെ പോയാല് തമിഴും മലയാളല്വും ചാനെല് അവതാരിക ഭാഷ യും ചേര്ന്ന് ഒരു പുതിയ ഭാഷ തന്നെ ആയേക്കാം . ഇനി ഈ പേരില് ആധുനിക മലയാളത്തിന്റെ അപ്പപനെന്നോ അളിയനെന്നോ വല്ല പാരിതോഷികം കിട്ടിയാല് ദിവസം തിന്നുന്ന തോര്രന്റെ (ഇതു പുതിയ കറി ഒന്നും അല്ല .. പച്ചകറിയും തേങ്ങയും മുളക്കും ചേര്ന്ന് ഉണ്ടാകുന്ന ആ സംഭവം ഉണ്ടല്ലോ ..അതാണ് മുപതു ബാക്ക് സ്പേസ് കൊണ്ടു പറ്റാഞ്ഞ് അവസാനം ഇങ്ങനെ എഴുതേണ്ടി വന്നത് !) കൂടെയ് ഒരു കോഴി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ഭാഗ്യം വന്നെകാം! ആദ്യം ആയിട്ട് ആയിരിക്കും ഒരാള് ഇങ്ങനെ പറയുന്നത് .. ഒരു കുഞ്ഞി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ഭാഗ്യം ഈശ്വരന് എനിക്ക് തരുമോ . അത് പോലെ .. ഒരു കോഴി കാല് കാണാനുള്ള ആഗ്രഹം എനിക്ക് തരുമോ ..
പിന്നെ അടുത്ത കാരിയം (കട്ട് ആന്ഡ് പേസ്റ്റ് )..
ദിവസവും പത്രം വായിക്കണം . അതിലെ ഏറ്റവും വലിയ സംഭവം താമസം രൂപത്തില് ആകണം. ഇവിടെയാണ് ഏറ്റവും വലിയ പ്രശ്നം . ഇപ്പോള് പത്ര വാര്ത്ത തന്നെ തമാശ ആണ്. അത് വായിച്ചു അതിന്നും കൂടുതല് തമാശ ആകണം എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞാല് , അതിന്നും നല്ലതും എളുപ്പവും മിണ്ടാ മഠത്തില് പോയി പന്തളം ശശിയുടെ ഗാനമേള കേള്കുനതാണ് ! അല്ലെങ്കില് സിനിമ കണ്ടു കമ്പ്ലീറ്റ് കുറ്റം പറയണം . സൂപ്പര് താരങ്ങളെ അടിച്ച് താഴ്ത്തി
കേള്കാത്ത കൊറേ ടീംസ് പൊക്കി പറയണം ..
പിന്നെ ശുദ്ധ ഹാസ്യം .. ബാര്ബര് ഷോപ്പ് പോലെയുള്ള വല്ലതും ! ചുരുക്കം പറഞ്ഞാല് ഒരു പേജ് ന്റെ ബ്ലോഗ് എഴുതണമെങ്കില് ചുരുക്കം പന്ത്രണ്ടു മണികൂര് കഷ്ടപ്പെട്ട് ബുദ്ധിമുട്ടി നെടുമുടിച്ചു മുട്ടുകുത്തി എന്തിക്കിലും ചെയണം .. അതിനും നല്ലത് ഇപ്പോള് ഉള്ള ബ്ലോഗ് വായിച്ചു ഫോര്വേഡ് ചെയ്തു ഓഫീസില്ലേയ് സെര്വര് ഹെവി ആകുനതല്ലേയ് ..
അപ്പോള് തല്കാലം ലാല് സലാം
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