For my Grandfather

This is a short note for my recently departed Grandfather, because I'm really bad with emotional & dramatic dedications. Rightly so, because you weren't like that either and you wouldn't really approve of it. All your life you were fairly reserved & quiet, you liked being self-sufficient and independent and doing everything for yourself , but thank you for all the small ways in which you were far more approachable to all of us and thank you for letting us reach out to you so strongly, in your last days. All the tiny miracles that I can't speak about, the little ways in which you let us know how much you really loved us & the power you still hold over this house, the circumstances and its people, you know all that better than me.

Mom always says I have your quiet authoritative & commanding streak; the way in which I can dismiss everyone up with a straight "no." if I believe something is incorrect. Thank you so that I don't have to struggle to get my way in life. That is probably the most valuable inheritance ever.

Thank you for our iron & steel blood.

Thank you for setting a conscientious and honest example of living.

Thank you for this home & this family.

Thank you for making sure that the entire future generations won your genes for our height over Dadi's.

Thank you for raising your daughters like men & your sons like warriors.

Thank you on behalf of all the Sr. & Jr. Kapoors and everyone else who's lives you changed in your calm & self-assured way. I'd talk about your contributions to this world, but you never liked to speak about all that, so I'll respect your love for privacy. Thank you most of all, for the time I got to spend with you.

Analogically speaking

To my mind, sports is the perfect analogy for life. Glory, defeat, hardwork, leadership, teamplay, passion. It is a perfect adrenaline rush of everything that's good about life.

People who play sports or even watch, have a better understanding of fairness & sportsmanship.

I'm miserable after India's loss to South Africa last night. We crashed out in the Super 8 stage again, mostly because Australia decided they wanted to lose against Pakistan. Decided is correct. Australia isn't in losing form & a strategic decision to lose the match cost India its place in the 2012 World Cup. Australia should've played to win, which is the essence of any sport.

Anyway, then I tuned into the news channels and they managed to infuriate me further by carrying news on "Dhoni's captaincy under speculation". The day a person accepts captaincy of the Indian cricket team is the day their captaincy is put under motherfucking scrutiny. Technically, you're speculating removing the captain of the defending World Champions. MS Dhoni should be celebrated for the next four years, instead of being threatened. But that's always been our problem hasn't it?

Sourav Ganguly, the most successful captain India has ever seen, was tested remorselessly by Shahrukh Khan. I wouldn't even ask Priety Zinta or SRK about their opinion on stadium lights. India's never treated its legends fairly, be it sports stars, war veterans or anyone else. Its about time we got our attitude in check.

People who are eager to hand over the captaincy to Virat Kohli are the same people who ask questions about marriage on the first date. Kohli is a legend in the making, but he could do with a year or two under 'Captain Cool', for sure. Wild as his passion is for the game, you never want a captain who is teary-eyed at slip, because of a knock-out. He needs time. Dhoni deserves respect. We're still the world champions. Give credit where its due.

Being a sports spectator doesn't come without the responsibility of being a sport. Worshipping cricket and disrespecting cricketers doesn't work.  Shut your pseudo bitchy "cricket worshipping" pie holes, please?

Reverse chauvinism

This is something I submitted to Thought Catalog a month back but since they haven't used it, Its still good enough for my blog. I studied English Literature & the course contained a lot of feminist content, which actually made me question modern feminism, rather than convert me. So here goes: 

Needless to say, the second sex may have fought a long, hard battle to gain the same rights as men, but every scream of feminism in today's time is just a misunderstood version of the movement. Today, most women's understanding of feminism is only good enough to become the lyrics of a Beyonce song. Actually, I do think that if you haven't suffered the strife of people who kicked off these movements and lived through that struggle, then you can never be a follower. What most people are roaring about can best be categorized as Girl Power rants. We've never had to fight for a right to vote or even drive. Its simple, we just don't live in those times anymore. If you're going to college for education, have openings in a career, then you're there. Everything else that you may face is just a bias. This partiality is often personal and there are possibly many such other biases within a person who discriminates based on gender. Its definitely not a fight.

I'd say women are far more comfortably placed now than men. For women, the careers & the success is as much a convenient decision, as it is a compulsion for our better halves. Women will still be accepted as homemakers, worldwide, but we forget how men are conditioned & expected to be the breadwinners, no matter what. Similarly, whenever a woman exceeds herself in her field, she's lauded as an icon, like its an exceptional success, whereas so many men go unnoticed for their triumphs.

I don't even think that men have come to the realization of how they're conditioned to be the meal-tickets. I can't even imagine how immensely stressful it must be to strive to outdo an entire gender, right? Whether its parents, wives, kids or friends, everyone expects their man to be the Alpha Male. Its also a matter of acceptance. Women are now accepted in every role, unlike men, who still have no choice but to be the heroes. 

In times of casualty, all signs read: "Women & Children" first, like a man is legally & socially expected to demonstrate bravery. Sure, its probably chivalrous, but I think that its a bit biased & taken for granted. Maybe a man would put his own woman & children before him, but I'm not even convinced he should throw himself under a bus for hordes of random women. At the end of a hard day's work, if I board the metro & a man gets there before me, why should he vacate the seat just because I'm a woman? We did the same sort of work. If there's an elderly woman or man, or someone who needs a place, then get up, by all means. I'm not delicate enough to not be able to stand in a train for twenty minutes. Its not like we suffocate in 18th century corsets all day. I'll live.

I'm not saying men need to rise up in arms & revolt. They do fine. I just think that women should shut up about women empowerment. I think women in most countries have a fairly good deal & unless you're being beaten or raped or forced to do wage labour, you shouldn't really use the "feminism" anymore, because that's precisely what our ancestors went through before they made their suffrage committees. No girl, don't be strutting in a mall in six-inch heels, talking about equality. Women's lib shouldn't be adopted from Destiny's Child lyrics.

Like a bimbo

I like to nurture all sides of my personality. I also speak a lot of bullshit and use words like 'nurture'. Sometimes, you have to let the Bimbo in you speak. I let the bimbo in me speak a lot of times. I also let the Bimbo in me make most of my decisions. These decisions lead to fun times.

After you write loaded posts about 'Proving God' and what not, you have to speak like a materialistic, snooty, little bitch too. So, here goes.

Today's post is about the 10 must-haves for all human beings, especially women who don't like their money in their wallets.

1.  Lady Million by Paco Rabanne: The main reason why I have no known criminal records is because I smell like a demi-god. Invest in a good perfume/ cologne and get away with fraud. Dibs on using that for an epitaph!

2. Fedora Hats: Like hats weren't cool enough already, Neal Caffrey on White Collar just made the entire idea edible. Prepare yourself, mankind, I'm going to be wearing hats soon. Only insanely cool people can do hats. Like Top Cat. I saw some great ones at Zara & Forever New in Delhi. Help yourselves.

3. Loafers: Have you got your coloured loafers yet? Apparently its cool if boys wear red loafers this season. I say exploit it,before it becomes scary again. I like green better than red though. Green loafers flip my brain over. Everybody get some. FYI-Moccassins work too. But be warned, I'm going to call you Pocahontas no matter how good they look.

4. Coloured jeans: I always tell myself that its okay that my wardrobe looks like a box of crayons because everybody loves crayons. Not a fan of the skinny, coloured jeans on men but try Navy Blue or Mustard, boys. If you're a girl, I think you should go insane and just buy every colour possible. My favourite is that dull rose colour and green, ofcourse. Mint green.

5. A good phone: I don't know what a good phone is but buy a good one. Maybe an iPhone. What I'm saying is- Don't be a noob like me and keep buying blackberries every year just to stay on BBM. I've had to buy 4 blackberries in 3 years. I have to be on BBM though, because all my bestfriends live in different cities now & I love them and I want to buy disgusting phones so I can text them for free and send them pictures of what I'm shopping for and upload statuses about them.

6. Hobby: Invest in a fucking hobby and don't call it social media, cheapskates. Buy some art supplies, books, a gym membership, swim, dance or something. Just go away and be productive.

7. Haircut: Everybody needs a good haircut, but that's the trickiest thing in the world because great haircuts come at a ridiculous price. Great hairstylists not only cost money, they're also hard to chase. Mine's been out of town for 3 months and I finally had to ditch her and switch. It hurt so bad. There was this time when she had left the salon and moved to a new place and I sent out a literal manhunt until I found her. That's how much I loved my hairstylist. Stupid, arrogant bitch.

8. Satchel: I don't care who you are, all I know is that you need a satchel bag. You know it too.

9. Dog: I want a dog. Mom doesn't want a dog. We're not getting a dog. I'm going to get married and be someone's wife and rule their kingdom and buy seven dogs. 

10.Willy Jeeps: Need that bro. Open-roofed jeeps look like fun and they are a lot of fun, but my dad said that I wasn't a gangster in Punjab and I shouldn't cruise like one. I'm going to marry a gangster in Punjab then. The Willy Jeep will happen. Its pure lust.

Proving God

Hey! Higgs-Boson Particle, hey! I suppose nobody cleanly comprehends the Higgs-Boson particle theory, except those scientists in Switzerland. Personally, it means nothing to me if you explain the Big Bang Theory in complex equations. I'd rather watch Sheldon Cooper. That's when I don't even like The Big Bang Theory (the sitcom). Perhaps, there's a reason why we can't grasp the concept. I'm not sure we're supposed to understand the "God Particle" or "God" himself. It literally floats a little above our intelligence. Right out of reach.


While some atheists are saying "told you so", I'm wondering what exactly they told us: "The particle has no intrinsic spin, no electric charge, and no colour charge."? Don't remember that. The God Particle doesn't negate God at any rate. And when I speak of God, I speak of a God devoid of Religion. A higher power without form or folklore attached. Why doesn't God show himself? When do you ever know the names of the architects of a building? Do you ever see the Directors or Producers on screen?. You see the directors names on the rolling credits and that's it. 


I could explain the intangibility angle by comparing God to another really strong force: Love. Nobody knows if love really exists, nobody can define it or quantify it but we all still believe in it. Even if we don't indulge ourselves in the romantic angle of love, we love our pets or parents or children or something. Strangely enough, we all also have our own ideas and notions of love. And that's completely acceptable. Much like how God should be. Again, kindness is an intangible feeling but if you boast about your kind deeds, they don't remain so kind anymore. All these intangible feelings are complex and very powerful, often open to interpretation and beyond accepted rationality.


The only other scientific theory against the existence of God is Evolution. I didn't even buy the theory of evolution when I was 11 years old. It just didn't make sense. Strangely enough, Darwin's theory is scientifically untested and yet, accepted. There could be a reason for that. During the medieval times, Science needed credibility. For all its efforts in ongoing inventions and discoveries and effective approval from society it needed to contest Divinity. My two main problems with Darwin's theory?


1. Haven't seen anything evolving in eons. Something should be in the process of mutating and changing right now? Refer the case of fruit flies on Google for further explanation. Nothing is really evolving.


2. Even if I do accept that humans evolved from apes, what the hell created the millions of other species roaming this planet? Even scientifically, dead chemicals cannot prove the origin of life.

This entire planet, solar system and these universes (plural) are the only truly imaginative creations. It was probably made and created and imagined from thin air. And its so pretty. Every thing else that we create is inspired from the original creation. Let's see how. Even if you do create something conceptually new, whether its a painting or poetry or technology, you use things that are available to you, that already belong to this world. Poetry about a lover, Art about the mountains or even inventing an iPhone is still sourced from existing material or muses. Even Cloning is just copying, we cannot envision a new being and give it life. Whoever created the world, pulled this design out of sheer imagination, without any help.


There's also that the placement, location, temperatures at which we exist cannot be a coincidence. A few million kilometres ahead or before and we would have been space dust, probably. The Honda 'Cog' television commercial which is one of the most expensive TVC's ever directed shows a sequence of complex chain reactions of car parts to depict superior engineering for the seventh-generation of Accord. Obviously the advertisement took a lot of time, intelligence and attempts to spark off the right sequence. Much like we need rain after heat, condensation, evaporation, reproduction and even digestion cannot be a matter of chance. Long story short, the precise ways in which the world is running cannot be a mere cosmic mishap.


There are ample observations to suggest that the human form and possibly the entire planet were created by Intelligence. The true and mathematical theory of "The Divine Ratio" popularized by The Da Vinci Code is one. I find it hard to believe that our existence; the human body, the planet and the universe and its complex arrangement and successful execution is a result of neutrons colliding with protons, or whatever. Sure, Science is helpful. We can't do without it. But its pretty obvious that Science only explains, it doesn't create. Respect & ridiculous amounts of admiration to CERN for just building the halogen collider, let alone conducting experiments in it, but it still doesn't negate God or whatever you want to call whoever created this system.  If you still think that the world is an accident then we're a pretty long-surviving and resilient accident with quite a few plans.


Godspeed and May the force be with you.

Reverse Pro-tips to save the world

I'm actually doing a continuation of my previous post on pro-tips because that seemed to have been popular. You guys really do prefer short posts in bullet points, huh? This one isn't for the ladies though, its about the ladies. Men can implement it because they're perpetually agonizing over how they can't figure out women. Be warned though, this post will only help you out with sane women. If you've picked a douchebag to fall in love with, then no Pro can ever help you. RIP.


Here goes. This should help you break down the algorithm and cruise better.


Tip #1 Tell her she can do whatever she pleases and she'll probably let you have your way with everything. What do women really want? They just want to be told that they can do it all, anything that they please. Strike a balance though. She shouldn't read this as a "I don't give a fuck about what you're doing". You tell them that they can have it their way, on their terms and they're going to fall for you so hard, they might let it become all about you. I think I just betrayed a sorority secret, but World Peace is a worthy cause.


Tip #2 Seriously boys, gotta stop being escapists. Unless she's really needy and clingy, in which case its your fault for picking the wrong sort, you need to stop bolting at the slightest show of love. She's not weak or insane and you need to get your need to be a player under control. There's always going to be better stuff in the world. Even when you're married, even when you're CEO and even when you own all the Apple products. So might as well stick to a good thing and see it through.


Tip #3 It truly takes about 3 seconds to text back "ttyl" or "brb", so do the needful. Be busy all day but don't leave all her messages hanging, unless there's 30 every hour. Then run. Bolt for your life. Exaggeration there, but I think you know when its going overboard. 


Tip #4 I know this is hard to wrap your head around, but if you get into a relationship with someone just because they looked pretty or cute, then you're just inviting trouble into your world. If she's pretty, take her out for drinks or coffee or dinner but don't commit on that premise. You're going to regret it when she's bawling outside your house, with a blade in her hand at 3 am. 


Tip #5 You really don't need to make promises of love or marriage if you're unsure and don't mean them. If you make those promises just to get ahead with her, then you're really sick. Lay your cards on the table and she can decide if she wants to go ahead with it or not. Don't create little homely fantasies that you have no intention of fulfilling. Walk out if you don't want the same things.

Tip #6 Maybe never use a pick-up line, please? Its just so much easier to be normal and strike up a conversation with "What do you do?" instead of " I think there is something wrong with my phone... It doesn't have your number on it." Don't induce vomit. 

I was trying to think of 10 tips to round it off cleanly but I can't think of anymore, quite honestly. I don't want to state the obvious like "Don't cheat on her" because you already know that's wrong unless she's in on the three-way scene. I don't want to force it to ten. There are many other issues women have with their male counterparts but most of them are non-issues to me. I don't fret if guys don't like coming on shopping trips, listening to gossip or watching chick flicks or call me 3 times a day. I actually prefer it if they stay out of my business and let me have my time with the girls and my interests.

Long story, short: Just be around, be supportive and don't be a fucking nuisance. 


Continued from Part 1: http://thediaryofabrat.blogspot.in/2012/05/life-skills-for-ladies.html

At the heart of my heart

A few weeks back, me & my father found ourselves in North Delhi with a few hours to kill and we were completely at a loss for ideas. North Delhi isn't exactly someplace we'd go willfully. For the uninformed, its where the famous DU North Campus is situated. The sprawling university campus is dominated by student cafes, hostels and low-budget joints which aren't my Dad's sort of place at all. My Das isn't a fan of shady, small, cheap places and neither does he like teenagers. I had to come up with a plan & quick. That's when I remembered that we were also in the vicinity of the legendary Chandni Chowk, although I didn't know If I was upto the heat & crowd on a Sunday.

I'm fairly ashamed of this fact, but in my 21 years in Delhi, I've never been to Chandni Chowk before this & it literally makes me want to slap my elitist, stuck-up face. Chandni Chowk is where the epic Paranthe Wali Galli is situated. It is also where you get some of the best damn food and a feel of Dilli and not Delhi.

I know I'm not supposed to write a food blog but then I've purposedly never given a theme to the blog. I'm also going to  pull a cliche and write about Paranthe Wali Galli and no, I'm not sorry. Firstly, its a really hard job to get a car parked in Chandni Chowk so I would recommend that you take the metro. I think parts of Chandni Chowk are shut on Sunday, so we were lucky to beat the crowds. We were also lucky because most of the food places were open.

First on the agenda was Jalebi. Jalebi is always first on the agenda in our house. There's a corner house right before SheeshGanj Sahib Gurudwara where this fellow was frying saucer-sized Jalebis in a wok. I don't think I've ever seen such humongous Jalebis in my entire life. They also make samosas. So obviously we told him to fry as many that could fit in a pan & wrap it up in brown paper. Brown paper is so amazing. I freakin' love brown paper. You know how happy it makes me when you open brown paper & it contains Jalebi? I even pretended to be surprised, later.

We stashed the Jalebis and samosas in the car and headed to Paranthe Wali Galli. So this galli is literally a galli. Tiny, narrow passages with parantha shops flanking the entire length of the by-lane? I don't think you need any other definition of "my happy place". Its insanely quaint, monochrome brushed structures are any Instagram-ers paradise. The corroding paint and discoloured sign boards behind braids of electric wires and cobwebs is like looking into a world long lost.

But back to the food. You should ask one of the completely jobless locals standing around, about which Parantha place to pick.  The parantha menu is just completely ridiculous. I don't think there is any condiment/vegetable/edible food item that they haven't stuffed in bread and fried. There's dry fruits, pulses, cheese and even Poppadums. Its completely maddening. We ordered the punjabi staple- Aloo Paranthe, Dal ke paranthe and Pea paranthas with lassi. It was served with some Pumpkin vegetable and 300 kinds of achaar and a potato vegetable. So ideally, 1 person can eat a meal to last 3 days in Rs. 35/-. Dad asked if we wanted to get 1 of each paratha packed for the peeps at home. Our family doesn't know how to not order everything on the menu. But I put my foot down and said no. The damn things were being cooked in enough oil to attract America's attention. I'd only nibbled on the little oil suckers and I was in no mood to be tempted to try each one out at home. So we took just 7 types of paranthas back. I never said I'm good at ordering proportionate amounts of food either. 7 out of 40 varieties was good restraint, I'd say.

This food blog is probably a rarity, so I should let it be known that I can't be best friends with people who don't bring the menu down. My family and all of my best friends have no control over their menu lust. I don't get people who measure out their orders. I'm sure the portion of pasta is enough for 2 people but do you not notice the bruschetta on the side? And there's always another Main that's begging to be at the table, right?

Anyway, back to Chandni Chowk. We got done with our lunch (and dinner) and headed to Chainaram Sweets. Don't ask me. My father is obviously over the edge happy with Old Delhi at this point, but we have this rule about how there's always supposed to be a dessert stock in the house. He got some mithai packed and I did not even have the strength to look at food anymore so I tried on some juttis but they were all uncomfortable and I just wanted to go back to the car and pass out in front of the air conditioner.

Chandni Chowk was pretty darn fancy in a completely austere way. I'm intending a good, long visit sometime during the winter, when Delhi is gorgeous and the weather is a complete beauty. That's also going to be a good time to swing by Paharganj, as well. I know that the Old Dilli/ Paranthe Wali Galli posts and reviews have been done to death but I think it deserves every one of those posts. Its like nothing else in the world. Each and every little tribute to Purani Dilli is justified, so here's mine.

Something like a woman

Notice how I'm writing more frequently? This is all part of a pact that I signed with my best friend where I write regularly, sign a book deal, get rich and buy her hats. Incidentally, as I'm writing this post I am seated in front of the television watching Pretty Woman on Zee Studio, cradling a leather-bound edition of Sense & Sensibility to my left. Now this should explain my references if not my inspirations. I don't grudge men if they can't figure me out because most men in this day & age don't know who Scarlett O' Hara is, let alone figure out a mash up of seven female protagonists from 18th century England authors.

I'm a disgruntled creature, I swear. I'm supposed to be wooed. I'm supposed to sit on my throne and the men are supposed to do the chasing. And you ladies are making it difficult by giving in so easily.Yes, they'll still do their bit but women have quite literally tilted the scales with their liberal first moves. Are you ladies insane? You are giving away the most powerful power! You don't need to show a speck of attention to any man unless you're a completely hopeless cause. They will come after you. They are auto-tuned to chase and you have already botched up the whole scene by inflating their egos. Sure, you have his attention, but at what cost? Fool.You have ruined it. You have ruined this generation and thats because you never read literature. I read pride & Prejudice when I was 9 years old. I grew up on a healthy dose of Audrey Hepburn & Sophia Loren. The idea isn't to be a prude, but I've seen character sketches of prostitutes that were less promiscuous than the average 20-something woman now. Remember Holly Golightly (Breakfast at Tiffany's) and Vivienne Westwood (Pretty Woman)? So much grace.

Marilyn Monroe, the most promiscuous woman icon of the 1950's had more class than the average woman today. I don't entirely blame you all. We've gone from Grace Kelly to Nicki Minaj & Kesha, but then you could revisit the past and pick up some references or look up the rare contemporary icons such as Kate Middleton. She's married to a prince. See? This works.

 I mean obviously, none of you have any future planning done, right? Why are you happy being the Transit Lounge? I don't get it. Don't you get it? Your lascivious statements might bring them to the yard but they ain't stepping into your herpes-ridden house.

Now I don't know about freelance writers & half-depressed painters but all other men will lose interest in you if you've declared complete dependence & rendered them indispensable. This logic is quite sound because why should anyone be irreplaceable? The dumb fools aren't trying to be jerks but they're mostly wired that way. They will lose interest if you're too easy. This doesn't mean that women don't have a chance at love or emotional security, but please don't balloon their egos and make their life so easy. Don't wait on them hand & foot and tell them things they want to hear. Don't be so easy in every way. I can't compete with this lack of self-respect, ladies! Besides, everyone likes a challenge. But the problem with most women is, you can't play hard to get. You have to be that in principle. Which is where your influences come into power. And sadly most of you have none.

You know what they say? The most worthwhile things in life are the most difficult to achieve. Be valuable. Getting the guy shouldn't be your goal. Getting his respect, love and commitment should. Broaden your perspective. Broaden your book shelf.

Life skills for the ladies

Hello. I'm going to write a Pro-tip series. I think I can write a Pro-tip series if there can be a Lajpat Nagar Pro-tip series. I mean what's up with that? There's only one pro-tip you need with respect to Lajpat Nagar- Leave. For the uninformed, Pro tips are those really cool poster tips that started with BroTip and HoeTip. Then facebook's new photo sharing fad decided we needed DPS tips, Hyderabad Tips, Delhi Tips & so on and so forth. This is only with respect to my specific timeline. I'm sure there are more annoying & relevant ones in your facebook galaxies.

So here are my Pro-Tips:

 #1 Stop giggling, ladies. Stop giggling unnecessarily. Stop giggling at everything men say. It makes life hard for the genuine ones. It also distorts their perception of womankind and you are responsible for that.

 #2 Don't try to get Men to pay for everything. If you can't afford it, don't eye it. If he's not your husband, he doesn't owe you gifts. You're just giving him leverage for any future fiascos.

 #3 Read good books & watch good movies. Try to not base your life on Twilight. Books bring substance. Pick up Pride & Prejudice instead.

 #4 Listen, I've heard all about how all of you are fantastic cooks but I don't think I've ever eaten such fabulous food at anyone's house. That's why we're always chilling at cafes, right? Don't pretend to be a domestic goddess. If he's marrying you because you promise to be a Nigella Lawson in the making, he's not worth it anyway. The solution is to promise your trusty house-help as part of the dahej.

 #5 Be self-sufficient. Everybody likes a damsel in distress but don't actually be one. What if you actually get into serious distress & there's no hero around? Know your basics: Be well-educated, know how to drive, know the safe hang-out places, always know who's your ride back, keep the best take-out menus etc. If you really must do the Damsel-in-distress act, use your natural flaws to that advantage. For example- I am an accident waiting to happen. 2 years- 2 broken wrists & the same knee cap dislocated twice. So I have to genuinely, honestly be walked across the road, up the stairs, around slippery floors etc. Advantage your flaw, ladies. Although I've been told by the parents that if I break another bone, they won't take me to a doctor or get me medical help. So I have to be ridiculously careful now, because that's a legitimate warning this time.

#6 Attention isn't important. Think about it. It doesn't earn you money. It doesn't help your career and it doesn't help you snag Gerard Butler. These are my life goals. If being an attention-whore is in line with your goals, go ahead. Like if you want to be a B-grade Bollywood starlet or an MTV VJ, please go ahead with that life. Otherwise, try and be yourself. Life is more comfortable that way.

#7 Never date anyone who treats you less than you deserve to be treated. If you're used to a certain level of graciousness, maintain it. The only one who can lower your standards is you.

#8 Grooming. Just cover your basics, girls. KNAIMEAN? Hygiene, cleanliness, regular maintenance. Smell good. Brush your hair etc. Know your procedures.

#9 EMOSHUNS: Shun those emotions. Nobody needs to know that you're psychotic. Save the full disclosures. Everyone is allowed one terrifying & possessive act. Get yours over with, as soon as possible. Be chill, bro. Indifference rattles up the men.

#10 Be fun. I don't mean Vodka fun. I mean real fun. Be good at conversation and verbal volleyball. Get a hobby. Go bowling. Watch a sport. Please actually know your sport though. Dont "OMG, that team with Cristiano Ronaldo" please. Diversify, my friend. Hold your own. Until later -Your Internet Mom

Blood Bros.

Hello there, after fairly fucking long. I've been meaning to write for quite a while but I've been caught up trying to get a career & then busy trying to settle into it. I'm a banker & other things now. Its a dream come true! No, I'm kidding. What kind of insane child dreams of becoming a banker? This is an incidental little break, but I'm bloody thankful for it.


I have no topic for this blogpost currently, but I promise that I will have one by the end of this paragraph. I think I've also been delaying writing because my blog got quite a hike in viewership & I've been just been scared that it may not be as popular as that one swingin' Delhi post. But that's alright & I'm just going to write because of the reason I wrote my first blogpost. Because I had to write for my own reasons.

I recently moved back to Delhi after my MBA and realized that I do belong here, warts and all. Its been almost seamless to move back in with the parents. There's my topic I think. I'd like to write about parents. See? I never disappoint.

My parents are such cool cats. They work so hard & party moderately harder and my dad will complain about how his friends never let him go home early & he needs to work the next day, but they're still never home before 3 am, which I'm not even allowed to do. If you're reading this mum, I'm taking it up on Sunday.

The siblings are also clued into my twitter account and then they read out my tweets (no lies) to the parents and mock me for being a ridiculous uncool twat. But I know you're secretly my fans, fuckers.

All the bullshit aside, I would've been nothing without my parents. I wouldve never read my first Harry Potter if my mother had not thrown it in my lap saying "I hear its good" and I would've driven like a typical woman if my dad hadn't said "Everyone drives. Even dumb american girls. No fear or hesitation. Its nothing." I would've never had my job or my values or my temperament (damn that though) or my fabulous fucking hair (thanks Dad for beating mum's genes on that one) without them.

I don't know why kids these days rant when parents bring them the wrong sort of pizza or a cheaper model mobile phone. The minute I got my first pay cheque is when I realized I don't even want to spend on myself, let alone on others. I applaud parents worldwide for being able to fund us for so long. Its ridiculously tough. Hey junior Kapoors, you'll get your presents, don't worry. I'm not a miser.

My parents know everything from general knowledge to health to education to nightclubs and drugs & its unbelievably hard to lie to them. I gave up long back. Infact, they can hear me over the phone and know that something is wrong when I don't even know it, myself. We have our disagreements, but if we can sort them out with our boyfriends/ girlfriends, I think I could atleast try with my parents.

All families go through rough patches and someone is always going through a hormonal daze but I think the important bit is to not give up. Someone's going to put you through hell anyway, might as well be your own blood. I don't think there's anything worth fighting for other than your family. Not just against outsiders but also for each other. To keep it together. Whether you live in the same space or away from each other, its important to acknowledge, if not love for parents, then the fact that you're all made out of each other.
Yuck.

Hey parents, if you think this was a cunning attempt at raising the curfew, you are totally right!

Exit from Paradise

I’d recently tweeted to see if someone would give me a topic to rant about. Any dysfunctional social scenes that annoyed them or amused them, but it didn’t generate any response and I eventually threatened to write about Love and jazz to disgust everybody. So here goes. This is to make sure you take my threats seriously next time. You don’t just mess with Corleones or Kapoors, assholes.

Just so you know, I’ve snagged the best balcony in the entire college residency and it had eventually begun to be referred to as “The Sutta Point”, before the usually indifferent non-smoker self got irked with the cigarette butts on the floor, as I’d step out with my mug of coffee. I don’t smoke and I don’t care if you do, but they were destroying the glory of my balcony. I’m sitting here today after a long while, because a Pigeon family had rented the place to gloriously procreate many more useless staring machines. I’m just glad I got my place back, with ten days of college still left. Fly away and fulfill your destiny, fat baby pigeons.

My balcony, to the left, it over looks a row of cascading palm trees, a green carpet of lush grass, what’s left of the Deccan plateaus, beyond that and a lake in the distance. The Osman Sagar, to be precise. Sometimes, during monsoons, rainbows rush and end right at my parapet. It’s perfect. Clouds break and build patterns of sunshine on the imposing pink building of the boys’ residence to the right. Every day, sunset touches all of this with a sweep of gold. I can see a couple in the distance. He twirls her around and then leans down for a kiss. She told me she’s dumping him next week. But that’s how Paradise works. Adam and Eve fall.

None of this imagery is made up. The couple isn’t fictional. I witness this; I live in this parallel Paradise. And very soon, some obnoxious slut of a junior will smoke cigarettes on my beautiful balcony. I broke from this paradise to present my B-plan, because every Paradise got its apple and I’d like to break to you that I live in a B-school. As I’m sitting in the last row, waiting for my turn, my best friend points out that the recently christened Mr. Popular is eating his booger. It is good to know that he does things other than suck up to the Farewell Awards Committee.

So back to Love, yes? By the way, Mr. Popular, I hope you read this. We are graduating in a week and  me and my friends were sitting around discussing and counting the number of couples that would finally make it to the altar. We could think of about three couples. In a batch of 800 students and majority of them involved, that’s a pathetic ratio. I’m not sure why people are in relationships anymore. Some of them are just silly enough to need tutors, some are bored and others are just sexually frustrated. I don’t think anyone is in love.

My mom is just concerned about how I’m totally happy being single and I told her “Ma, I'm a lot of work. We’re all at crossroads. Everybody wants an easy catch. Not someone they have to work for and run after. Nobody knows if any of this is permanent and they won’t invest such emotions and energy with me. They’ve done MBA’s. They know their ROI’s”. So I’m just sitting here in my Zen place, like a retired monk, basking in the glory of sunset, laughing at the couples, retired from love.

My dad says Love isn’t anything but being used to somebody like they’ve become a part of you. I know he almost recalled Mom from her trip to London last year, only because I think he gets annoyed if he can’t yell “Anitaaaa” every half an hour. Then when she’ll get there, he’ll just have her sit around while he works on his laptop. He just likes her around once he’s back home and she’s complaining about missing White Collar or whatever. She loves going out with him best of all because she says she doesn’t have to carry a phone when she’s with him.

I hope I can love somebody like that. Love them, not to twirl them around and steal kisses under rainbows, but love somebody enough to have three children with them and still want them in the same room every evening.  Want them so that they liberate me from gadgets and incessant calls. Want them despite the fights. Despite the work. I have a friend whose girlfriend doesn’t let him leave his room for meals. My dad travels for work every fortnight.  I want trust. I don’t understand possession. I don’t fantasize about a possessive man.

I want to love with all my brain. I want to love rationally. And I’m waiting like a patient retired monk, for I've romanced the Devil himself. But I leave Paradise soon. And I’m so glad. I don’t know how this story ends. But I just know it ends well. I’ll keep you posted.

10 Reasons to ban the IPL

I write this note/post/rant as we lose our position as the no.1 test team in the world. Twitter Timelines and Facebook Feeds are full of sad faces. Meanwhile, Vaseline pwns Vaughn and Bell's recall raises some questions about The Spirit of the Game.

Questions are raised as to whether we deserved to be the no. 1 test team, in the first place. Talk to the hand, bro. I like the no. 1 rank.

I like sports. I love cricket. I am no expert but I do hold an opinion. The IPL is a terrible tournament. Why? Here goes:

1. BOLLYWOOD MEETS CRICKET: I do not want Bollywood to meet cricket. It makes no sense. This is an annoying statement and a horrendous idea. Leave my cricket alone. Infact, keep Bollywood as far away from Cricket, as possible.

2. INJURIES: Why are we making the Indian Cricket Team play like a bunch of show-dogs? This isn't just a complaint about the IPL, but with the BCCI schedule for the rest of the year too. Check this link below to get an idea of how much more cricket India plays compared to other teams. Do we really expect the Indian team to play world-class cricket all year round? They will falter. And there will be 4-0 whitewashes.

http://www.itsonlycricket.com/entry/2011/ (A comparative)

India cricket schedule 2011.
Month	Tours/tournaments/matches	Full fixtures
January	India tour of South Africa, 3 tests, 5 ODI, 2 T20	Ind in SA 2011
Feb-March	Cricket world cup 2011 in Asia, ODI tournament	World Cup 2011
April-May	Indian Premier League 2011 (not international)	IPL 2011
June-July	India tour of West Indies, 3 tests, 5 ODI, 1 T20	Ind in WI 2011
July-Sept	India tour of England, 4 tests, 5 ODI, 1 T20	Ind in Eng 2011
October	England tour of India, 5 ODIs, 1 T20	Eng in Ind 2011
November	West Indies tour of India, 3 tests, 3-5 ODIs	WI in Ind 2011
December	India tour of Australia, 4 tests, 2 T20 + Triseries	Ind in Aus 2011

This was India's schedule for the year 2011.

3. SHIBANI DANDEKAR: Who are these Dandekar sisters and why are we letting more of them on primetime TV? Wasn't one shrill host raping our ears on MTV enough? Are they the reason for Australians beating up Indians all the time? Extremely worried for the future of this nation. The quality of anchoring leaves the viewers dumbfounded. If he is the owner of Deccan Chargers, I'm assuming he's supporting them. Don't ask that question. Okay? okay.

4. CONFUSION: What do I do when Mahendra Singh Dhoni (Love of my life) stumps Sachin Tendulkar (God)? Grin? Am I supporting Delhi or Punjab when my favourite player is playing for Chennai SuperKings?  Do I support a different team every match/ innings? Yes. Do I give a damn? No. Stop confusing me. Shutup.

5. JERSEYS: Its sports. I don't care how much money you have, Sir, I want my sportsman to NOT look like a bollywood backup dancer. Gold, Purple, Silver uniforms belong to strippers, not cricketers.

6. MONEY: The IPL is to Indian Sports, what Antilla is to Mumbai: A gold-encrusted eyesore in the centre of a colossal, decaying slum. Most Indian sportsmen can't afford two square meals. Meanwhile, at the IPL auctions we witness failed Bollywood actresses with 3000 carat diamonds & no brains, throwing away millions at 11 cricketers. Enough money to feed any another sport for an entire year.

7. TEAM MANAGEMENT: Who are these people? Coke stuffed Industrialists and their supermodel girlfriends do not qualify as team management. Take for example the Delhi Daredevils auction (2011). What was that? Were they choosing a team or making a guest list for a Boys' night out B.Y.O.B. party?

8. IPL NIGHTS: Excuse me? Let's get the sportsmen dead drunk till the wee hours of the morning, fly them out and then make them play a match that evening? Yes, because fitness and lifestyle is a whackass joke for the IPL.

9. TEAM NAMES: Its like an 11 year old has been given a puppy and decides to call it Captain Robusto Tailwagger. A little thought before you start coming up with ridiculous names like Kolkata KnightRiders, Kochi Tuskers, Deccan Chargers, Mumbai Indians? Name your Item girls what you wish. Lets keep in mind that this is apparently International Sports not a Chikni Chameli stint between your releases.

10. CHEERLEADERS: I like the whole cheerleading concept. Please let them dress and behave accordingly. Q. What is a cheerleader in a saree? Ans. Your mom.

I hereby boycott the damned tournament.

Adieu.

Grammar Gandu Hoga Tera Baap

I mean the title quite literally. Every time you mock a sad sort on the internet for their poor grammar skills, you invariably insult somebody from your family, assuming you're Indian and your parents or grandparents have grown up in this country and aren't exactly Shakespearean thugmeisters. Not everybody went to good schools and they all don't have access to great reading lists. Every time you hate on someone with poor English, you look like a stupid person yourself. Why? Because, you've quite obviously forgotten that this is India and English isn't supposed to be our first language. So chill the fuck out. If bad grammar bothers you, get off the internet and go read Classic Literature!

What does Grammar Nazi even mean? You want to asphyxiate someone because they said "I'm a engineer". That sounds like a tremendous life goal, I must say. And I'm just assuming, when you voluntarily title yourself as Wren & Martin that you speak impeccable English, read a lot and also wear a bowler hat to work.

What is incredible here is that most people speak dirty Hindi, mostly on purpose because that's suddenly cool but the minute you make a grammatical error in English, you might as well have bought social exile upon yourself. I'd love this entire system if even one "Grammar Nazi" spoke in Shudh Hindi as well as they claim to have mastered the English language. I can confirm that even most Europeans from countries like Germany, France etc. possess terrible English grammar and pronunciation skills. But I'm assuming when they do it, it probably counts as a sexy accent.

I can understand not wanting to get into relationships or friendships with people who aren't articulate or well-spoken but to sit around on the internet, trolling some sad boy who's just trying hard to speak the Internet language doesn't seem fair. Plus it makes you look extremely jobless. High school bullies do a better job. Next time you mock somebody publicly when they're obviously not even claiming to be great writers or orators, I'm going to climb up your windows and punctuate your life.

The Great Indian Sell-out

Hello there, regular munchkins & equally lovely new readers. I hope the New Year celebration hangover is sorted because I'm about to tell the story of the average Indian sell-out. I love that we love New Years & Christmas and even Halloween and that we embrace all these festivals with so much shiny mall-time enthusiasm. Personally, I don't let go of any opportunity to celebrate stuff. Now that I live in South India, I go around eating food off leaves for a premium price on Onam too. Festivals are just bubbly little days of union and joy. I like it.

Indians have so many festivals with so many enchanting stories behind them, that it just gets me riled up when we abandon our own celebrations in favour of western revelries that we know nothing about. How many of us know what Thanksgiving is really about? Or the ridiculously borrowed Tomatina Festival? Didn't we have Holi already? Do we really need a reason to throw tomatoes at each other? Weren't we saving that move for political speeches? I don't know why these things become cool the instant they're adapted from a western context but never "awesome" just because they're not our own desi festivals.

And I'm not saying shun western merrymaking. No sir. Stuff my face with all the plum cake in the world, please. One of my bestfriend's a Catholic and the other a Muslim. I'm stuffing my face with Biryani every Eid and chilling at the German Christmas Market, every December. They both live in London now. Swines. Miss you guys, if you're reading this.

My problem with the Sell-out Indian is when he shuns his own festivals, nay, literally bans his/ her festivals as an environmental hazard or some such pending calamity and then posts pictures of 'Halloween 2011 @ F-Bar :)' No thanks. 

When you call Diwali a massive pollutant and promoter of child-labour and then gush over the annual fireworks at Sydney Harbour, I'm not amused. Annually, they put up a gorgeous spectacle consisting more than seven tonnes of pyrotechnics at the Sydney Harbour alone, on New Years Eve. The London celebrations this year detonated an estimated 30 tonnes of equipment.Those are just the figures for two cities in the world. When Diwali rolls around, suddenly we want to take 'Say No To Firecracker' pledges and celebrate without noise pollution. Are we mentally stunted? Do we lap up all the media drama without a thought? I think the answer is Yes.

Lets talk about Holi. Generations have played Holi with "toxic" colour powder or rang and they seem fine to me. All that dry, herbal rubbish is so silly. If my Holi skin comes off before three days, I'm usually ashamed of myself. That stuff better be hardcore. Like this year, when we used printing ink and then literally peeled our faces off trying to get it off. And water wastage? Don't soak up in tubs or bubble baths either then. Its all wrong. Strangely enough, in a country where people don't have food to eat, we had tried to organize a Tomato-throwing festival inspired from the song in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara's spanish sequence. FYI- Raw Tomatoes smell gross. I would much rather get lathered in grease and egg than let somebody rub me with Tomato pulp.

How awesome is Dusshera? We stuff three mammoth-sized figures with firecrackers and set them on fire. That is epic. Learn to appreciate the brilliance and fun, instead of taking it for granted.

All of our moral and social conscience shows up to trash our own parties, meanwhile happily promoting and spouting admiration for the same sort of show, elsewhere. Lets learn to think. Lets let our future generations have a fair chance to celebrate their festivals. I want to preserve my culture. And I want my kids to go to Amrita Christina Seth's house for Christmas and Omar Khurshid's house for Eid. But I also want them to burst a tonne of gunpowder laden sky shooters without being made to feel guilty.

Don't be a sell-out to new fads and theories, bro. Its not cool.

 Also, Lohri di lakh lakh vadaaiyan to my punjabi & non-punjabi peeps, in advance. 

The brilliant New Years Eve celebration at the London Eye. Worth a watch.