tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82296874838863555582024-03-13T17:54:57.238-07:00ThinkJonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.comBlogger273125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-48137610431603268852024-03-10T20:01:00.001-07:002024-03-10T20:01:56.510-07:00The CoreI was watching the recent Malayalam movie, Kaathal, which had run on to become a great hit. The story revolves around the lives of a homosexual man, who had to come out of the closet in his middle age<div><br></div><div>Something that stuck me towards the end of the movie was a particular scene where he contested from his Panchayath. He was contesting as a independent candidate from the left bloc. The screen was filled with red flags.</div><div><br></div><div>Cut to present political scene, a party which was seen as liberal and peaceful has become a bunch of people with priorities lying in becoming a soft saffron or christian brigade. Congress has totally lost the ability to lead a narrative</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-81957803811581572832024-01-22T19:46:00.001-08:002024-01-23T10:42:44.195-08:00Don't eat with wicked menI was returning from work yesterday. The society was adorned with bright colours and DJ music as 'Shri Ram was coming back to Ayodhya'. Makes me wonder where was he all these years.<div>The ladies were having communal dinner at the basement. As usual I made my way to the elevator, pretending not to have seen them.<div><br></div><div>'Sir, please have dinner with us.'</div><div>I was slightly surprised. 2 years here and I know the hate and loathe hid behind their smiles. No one really invites me over for dinner or their functions. Infact whem I moved here an active area of discussion was why a non Gujarati was rented out a home. </div><div><br></div><div>Probably, they thought I was from the 'other side' and wanted to celebrate the victory</div></div><div><br></div><div>In a moment I saw threw the loving smiles. I politely refused, for the food will turn poison in my stomach</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-49197215822646191682024-01-03T18:39:00.001-08:002024-01-03T18:39:11.546-08:00Memories Die<p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-43066faf-7fff-ac39-386d-3ae6522fdf42">Early morning phone calls means bad news mostly, especially when you have old people in your family. 31st December was not expected to bring such a news. I was to sit at home and ruinate on the memories. But the phone rang. It was turn of my uncle, father’s eldest brother. I planned to meet him on the last trip but couldn’t. </p><p dir="ltr">20 years ago my grandparents passed away and now it’s the turn of the generation above me. I might labour and struggle until my turn arrives in the next few decades. </p><br><p dir="ltr">When the new of passing away of my uncle came, with him ended years of family feud, mainly started over the partition of land. That was the period dad felt isolated mentally. We, as kids, also struggled to digest the ugly side of relationships. The joy and innocence of childhood gave way to the realities and greed of life. We moved away from ancestral property, and with time sold off the land. </p><br><p dir="ltr">Thankfully, Dad and his brother came to peace during the last days </p>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-56453249364907952592023-12-27T10:57:00.001-08:002023-12-27T10:57:26.214-08:00Curry and CyanideNetflix releases a documentary on one of the most sensational murder spree. The documentary might have been well made except for the part that the whole thing looked too amateur. No proper research/ investigation was done.<div>As the narrator himself, inadvertently admitted, there were too many red flags still not looked into.</div><div><br></div><div>The murder didn't became a sensation just because 6 people were killed. But the executioner was a home maker and an epitome of ideal mother and wife. The question was how could she bring herself to do this?</div><div>Sadly the question still remains unanswered. The whole documentary seems to be shot by a wedding photographer and ends up with making the sister-in-law of the murderer a heroine of the whole drama.</div><div><br></div><div>One essential question remaining to be answered is, why were the entire family silent through out the period and even more strangely, how did the person who first cried foul on the mysterious death kept visiting the accused so that he become her next victim?</div><div><br></div><div>All said, the decadence of 'family' once the strongest and most sacred unit in society has fallen into decadence. The contradiction of material and at the same time the cultural and spiritual myths have churned out a very depressed generation in denial with themselves</div>Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-26815621366488906782019-07-08T18:18:00.001-07:002019-07-08T18:18:28.414-07:00Concept of Consent<p dir="ltr">I am a person who rarely gets into an argument in social media platform. One thing being half the population are stupid and stubborn. I mostly listen and smile.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But the last day a friend posted a video of a interview bit with a politician in Kerala. This guy, Mr P C George, more or less who has been in the news for his ‘populist’, ‘machoistic’ views on matters of interests doesn’t have any political party but he has been able to stand at the right places and take the right positions to stay in the limelight</p>
<p dir="ltr">The interviewer, more of a pretty novice, asks him about women’s safety in Indian public spaces during odd hours. He curtly replies ‘ Women from respectable families need not go out in odd hours’.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This was a wildly popular interview clip years ago. The interviewer was a less known pretty lass who looked too eager to please and the TV channel were in look out for attracting some eye balls. So here this guy has come up with a  solution to abuse, defined ‘respectablity’ and solved public safety all in a single go.<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Coming back my friend shared this clip with a caption ‘Pwolichu’ a new generation slang for ‘Rocking’ (my generation slang). I was surprised and stunned. I asked her, a post graduate student, what about women who work late nights? There are women who work as menial labourers to top executives who commute late into night. What about them.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I don’t know was the the reply.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I went on to talk to her about this consent the concept of consent and definition of decency. Sad part is women are conditioned to think that men, that too strangers, have the right to abuse their personal space if the compromise on some society-drawn-boundaries on decency. This abuse of personal space have no age barrier and has normalized even rape over these years. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Saying that it is not just indecent looking street guys who abuse a woman. Even decent looking people like I do. But coming into terms with the fact is not easy. <br></p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-65132101602231124982018-11-10T22:21:00.001-08:002018-11-10T22:21:22.430-08:00Dumping ground<p dir="ltr">I had this addiction to porn novels in my teens. They are termed 'small book' in my place. I used to buy and stock them.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then after many weeks I would decide to turn a good boy and dump them all in the near by wasteland. This cycle would repeat in another few weeks.<br>
This wasteland was owned by a rich guy and the neighborhood used the place to dump all their waste.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I believe we all should have this mental black hole where we can dump all stuff which want to get rid off. Waste will regenerate again but we need a space to dump itta intervals</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-79329538871688310602018-10-03T19:52:00.001-07:002018-10-03T19:52:50.867-07:00Petrol story<p dir="ltr">ഇന്നലെ പെട്രോൾ അടിക്കാൻ കയറിയപ്പോലിറ്ററിന് 88 രൂപ. ഇന്ത്യ- വിൻഡീസ് പരമ്പരയിൽ സെഞ്ചുറി തികയ്ക്കാൻ സാധ്യത ഉണ്ട്<br>
സാങ്കല്പിക കഥാപാത്രങ്ങളുടെ അഭിമാനം കാക്കാൻ നിരത്തിലിറങ്ങുന്ന ലക്ഷങ്ങൾ സ്വന്തം അഭിമാനം/ വരുമാനം/ സ്വാതന്ത്ര്യം സംരക്ഷിക്കാൻ നിരത്തിലിറങ്ങിയിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ നാട് <u>നന്നായേനെ</u></p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-18292056260885028392018-08-05T02:39:00.001-07:002018-08-05T02:56:48.314-07:00Happy Friendship Day<p dir="ltr">Roughly 14 years ago I was in college, trying to gain some acceptance into any one of the groups around. It wasn't an easy thing for an average guy with not enough pedigree or pocket money.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then out of nowhere senior students barged into our class and beat up a batchmate (that asshole is an IAS officer today). I volunteered to be a witness at the police station. It was the first time I was seeing the insides of a police station.<br>
Looking back it was a turning point for me. New friends, politics, ideology. Things did a 270 degree turn after a couple of years but the memory still remains. <br>
Needless to say after graduation all the rival gangs compromised the case on realization that survival matters more than the politics.</p>
<p dir="ltr">A few days ago I visited a local pub alone. My regular drinking buddy was touring Europe with his wife and I was missing my vodka. The stench of the place is unbearable but you get adjusted in minutes.<br>
After the drinks I was riding my scooter home when I saw police on the curve I was stopped and asked to breathe out and was caught.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I sat morosely at the station as the in-charge asked me to call up a friend as I realized to my horror that I had none.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Guys as a word of advise take pains to cultivate friends. We easily tend to recline into a self-coccoon. But over the years we will not realize all the good times you would have missed .</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-52084192806000657482018-07-25T20:03:00.001-07:002018-07-25T20:03:22.997-07:00കൊലക്കയർ<p dir="ltr">ഇന്ന് ജ്യൂസ് കടയിൽ പത്രം വായിച്ചിരന്നപ്പോ സുഹൃത്തായ പോലീസ് വന്നു<br>
എന്താ വായിക്കുന്നേ?<br>
കൊലക്കയർ.<br>
പാവം ഞങ്ങടെ പയ്യന്മാരാ. പെട്ടു പോയി. സാരമില്ല. ഊരും<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">ഞാൻ ഈ പാവങ്ങളുടെ ഫോട്ടോ നോക്കി. ശരിയാ കണ്ടാ പറയില്ല</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-38134289921587435182018-07-01T02:05:00.001-07:002018-07-01T02:05:50.543-07:00Greener Grass<p dir="ltr">The early morning, phone rang up with a notification. Probably it's from someone in a different time zone. I hoped it would be a cute chic. But the 'true-caller' claimed it is a old friend from my previous company.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He came from a rural rustic backdrop of Bihar. Someone i have never seen growing up.<br>
He ate most cost effective food, wore the most cost effective dress and travelled the cost effective way in the hope of saving enough.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As luck would have it, he got into a niche technology, worked hard studying it and moved on. I joined what is called the largest bank and took a different turn altogether.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As I was saying his mellow heart cried when he thought others were earning better.<br>
So he pinged me after years and wanted a treat from me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I asked him where is he at this odd hour</p>
<p dir="ltr">'USA'</p>
<p dir="ltr">'Thank God, i can't give you a treat'</p>
<p dir="ltr">As I listened to his reasons on why I was considered to be luckier i was picturising all the 'right' turns i missed</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-84228140650142449132018-06-29T21:44:00.001-07:002018-06-29T21:48:10.299-07:00Irreverent<p dir="ltr">വർഷങ്ങൾക്കു മുമ്പ്, പെണ്ണുകണ്ട്, നാട് നിരങ്ങി, ചായ കുടിച്ച് നടക്കുന്ന കാലം.<br>
കാണാൻ കൊള്ളാകുന്ന ഒരു പെണ്ണും matrimonial site വരില്ല. അവർ മാർക്കറ്റിൽ വരുന്ന മുമ്പേ already booked ആകും.<br>
പത്തനംതിട്ട അച്ചായത്തിയെ കണ്ടതോർക്കുന്നു. അവളെ കിട്ടാൻ തള്ളിയ തള്ള്. </p>
<p dir="ltr">ഞാൻ പറഞ്ഞു വന്ന വിഷയം അതല്ല. അന്നൊക്കെ അച്ചന്മാരുടെ ഭാര്യമാരെ ശ്രദ്ധിക്കും. എന്നാ glamour. പോരാത്തേനു നല്ല വിവരം. ഞാൻ അലോചിക്കും :ഇവരിതു എങ്ങനെ ഒപ്പിക്കുന്നു.</p>
<p dir="ltr">ഒന്നാലിചച്ചാ stable job, സമൂഹത്തിൽ നല്ല പേര്, കുട്ടികൾക്ക് പഠിക്കാൻ സൗകര്യം, ഇടക്ക് അമേരിക്ക ഗൾഫ് ടൂർ. പിന്നെന്തു വേണം<br>
</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-27275570540198158262017-10-01T17:11:00.001-07:002017-10-01T17:31:20.867-07:00Stories from the cockpit<p dir="ltr">Have you heard of girls speaking disgustedly about guys who do public exhibitionism. Ah well I am one who doesn't do it in public but have done a few in private.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I derive considerable pleasure talking sex or remotely sexual topic online. Thanks to the deluge of social media, I have never been starved off the pleasure.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Many of my office colleagues and friends have been subject to my weird engagement. I have lost count, but quite a handful have seen my little guy in different stages of erection. Some have outright blocked me, some have threatened and some just curious.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I am writing this because I haven't posted anything stupid in a while. A few weeks ago I found this wonderful person in Twitter. I tried many things to heckle her off and sometime ago (although unintended) she had to see my little guy.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The poor thing might not have seen anything uglier in life and I thought she might have said fuck off. But no being the wonderful person she's, she still speaks to me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">All I want to say is , it's quite lucky to land up with a great friend</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-52925899070845292292017-08-10T06:27:00.001-07:002017-08-10T06:27:53.944-07:00Rich Catch<p dir="ltr">The last day the dinner table at our humble home was set on fire when Mom let out the juicy gossip of the day. The middle-class-average profiled- Christian- guy is marrying the daughter of  a filthy rich Hindu abkari contractor.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The filthy rich businessman belongs to a famously notorious family. He donned the garb of anti-corruption crusader and then married his other daughter to the son of most corrupt minister in the state. Now you may have got some idea of who is who in the story?</p>
<p dir="ltr">I wondered who might the lucky guy be, who hit the jackpot as Dad went bonkers about the Christians youths drifting away from the religion doing inter caste marriages. Apparently long long long ago Israelites were entrapped by their neighbourhood enemies by seducing them into sexual orgy with women of other faith. I spent good part  of my childhood wondering about men who sacrificed their women for the orgies and Israeli women who sat at home and baked breads as their husbands came back home tired after hard day of orgy.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Let us move away from the orgy and come to the point. Dad went on and on about the lost souls. And I told him the dumb guy would make a fat donation and buy back his soul. What is it that money can’t do?</p>
<p dir="ltr"> </p>
<p dir="ltr">LOVE IS BLIND, BUT MAKE SURE THE FATHER IN LAW HAS A FAT WALLET AND NO ONE TO SHARE IT WITH<br></p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-59204428023120181912017-02-13T19:49:00.001-08:002017-02-13T19:49:19.972-08:00Valentines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Years ago February 14th was a dayI would look forward to. Atleast till the end of the day.<br />
<br />
Every single 14th of Feb I hoped someone would walk to me with the red rose. It was said that hitched couples should cometo college in white dress and singles in black ones.<br />
<br />
In the mornings I looked on with jealousy as the guys in white shirt and blue jeans proudly showed off their Valentines day gifts. They went into some fancy coffee shops in the evenings and proudly proclaimed their love.<br />
<br />
Decades have just gone by. I wonder if they regret having spent all the money and time on some girl whom they would never marry.<br />
Today I don't have anything much to write. The last day someone messaged in anonymous mode about dozens of girlfriends I have. How far removed, very far removed.<br />
<br />
Anyway enjoy guys , have a good fuck</div>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-70510392548999525002016-08-29T06:10:00.001-07:002016-08-29T06:10:44.430-07:00Movie Review -Pretham (Malayalam) <p dir=ltr>Do you want to make a Malayalam movie. It's quite easy now. Please ensure the following ingredients are there in the mix : </p>
<p dir=ltr>1. A shallow script  </p>
<p dir=ltr> 2. A mix of friends . The hero has to be chisel cut. One out of shape guy is inevitable, who would remind you that obesity is quite cool. </p>
<p dir=ltr>  3. The protagonist should be an engineering/ medical graduate who didn't complete his course because he wanted to be a singer. He must obviously be from a rich family and is in logger heads with his dad.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>4. It's advisable to shoot in Kochi or some exotic location.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>5. The men has to speak in Cochin/ Thrissur slang with a tinge of English.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>6. Home bred ladies have to speak in Thrissur/ Palakkad slang. The cool girls have to do Manglish NRI slang.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>7. There should be a modern girl with slim body and big tits. She should be proud of her 'structure'. The guys have to openly remark about it and the girl should be very comfortable in it. She shouldn't mind spending a room with a random guy because she wants to borrow his book. There should be not-so-very sly references on anatomy/ sexual conquests of women. Well that is what you mean when we talk about female-oriented roles. If there is a horny guy coming in to solve the issues of protagonists, he will carry a license to grab your ass. Women love it you know.  </p>
<p dir=ltr> 8. Jokes can be borrowed from internet/ email. </p>
<p dir=ltr> 9. The whole concept can be a remix of some old cinema.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>10. Dialogues can also be straight out of hit movies of yesteryear.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>11. Then you may remark that this is a stupid movie after all. Candid you know.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>12. Some horrid lighting and camera angles.   </p>
<p dir=ltr>13. Songs with a catchy BGM and a single line that keeps repeating. Vineeth Sreenivasan is a good option if your song writer is a high school drop out who doesn't know the language   </p>
<p dir=ltr>After mixing all this into a heady concoction open a facebook and Twitter page. Pay them to trend it. Write some fake reviews. Release posters with weird shoots and even weird names   </p>
<p dir=ltr>You have a hit</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-59959800969029334372016-06-23T02:39:00.001-07:002016-06-23T02:39:22.036-07:00Pointless world<p dir=ltr>കാള പെറ്റതു കേട്ടു കയ൪ എടുത്തു<br>
കയ൪ എടുത്തതു കേട്ടു കാള പെറ്റു<br>
കാളയെ കറക്കാന്‍ പശു വന്നു<br>
അതു കണ്ട പൂവന്‍ <u>മുട്ടയിട്ടു</u></p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-73465339080721619512016-06-21T17:26:00.001-07:002016-06-21T17:42:11.445-07:00Sweet Chat<p dir=ltr>My colleague who sits next to me asks, " Do you know Mr G".<br>
Ofcourse I know him. A mid aged perfect gentleman with a broad smile. <br>
"Nothng more?" <br>
"No"</p>
<p dir=ltr>"Well, he sends me a friends request."<br>
I wondered why isn't he sending me one. Probabaly I don't have pretty tits.<br>
"Then he pings every morning and night wishing Good morning and Good night. Now he wants my whatsapp number as well. I asked around a few other girls and all have the same experience too.'</p>
<p dir=ltr>What makes these men sacrifice their social standing for a little 'sweet chat' with young girls!!</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-4614379422321627542016-06-16T17:53:00.001-07:002016-06-16T17:53:19.497-07:00Migration and society in Kerala<p dir=ltr>Yesterday I noticed a huge crowd in front of my office. The traffice was blocked and there was a mix of cacaphony in Hindi and Malayalam. I went near to see what the matter was.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Two menial workers from northern India was arguing about sharing their earnings. Soe local auto drivers piched in with various suggestions and some even shouting beating both of them as a solution.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Things have come to such an extent that there is absolutely no one to do even the kitchens in Kerala. We are absolutely dependent on the migrant popultion for everything. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Strangely it is not the menial wok alone. Last day I saw a pitch black malayali lady walking along with a handsome guy with northern Eastern features and seems to be in love. Yes, we may see them marrying our daughters too.<br>
In near future we re sure to witness mor social tensions and conflicts. Jisha murder case must just be a beginning.</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-20772327655507955382015-11-12T09:52:00.001-08:002015-11-12T10:14:55.390-08:00The daily sweat shops<p dir=ltr>Today I went out for the weekly grocery shopping. I decided to try out the one who offers goods on a lesser margin. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Like all the desperate middle class middle aged men trying to save a rupee ( and in te end burn an extra ten rupee on petrol) I went to a renowned shop in the neighborhood. These guys ran a chain of grocery round the city. They quickly rose to fame and renovated the interiors to get the swanky feeling. I ran into some of my colleagues in the shop. I was amazed at the way they had beautifully arranged their stuff. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Needless to say it's not easy to compete with the Big Bazaars and Mores. But these small scale guys have held on to their share of market, much to their credit</p>
<p dir=ltr>I took a look around and saw very tiny kids dressed in white overcoats looking so famished, listless and tired. They were the 'executives'- fancy name given to sweatshop workers.<br>
Most of them sweat it out morning till night only to earn a pittance. Some years ago when Kerala was unfriendly to business ventures we never saw these faces. Sadly we have become 'business friendly'</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-72988730976979533732015-11-06T09:55:00.001-08:002015-11-06T09:55:33.689-08:00Starting again<p dir=ltr>Hello anyone who reads my blog. Been away for a while and now am back, this time as a very much married guy.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Well marriage was an excuse for lesser blogging and also faulty keyboard. But the last week, I decided to buy a new keyboard and am very raring to go!!!!!</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-28847709787065762015-02-19T21:36:00.001-08:002015-02-19T21:49:57.901-08:00Bare handed dentist<p dir=ltr>I have been told many times, that I am a horny bastard and a jerk. The first instance was after seeing a fashion show of a friend. I got turned on so bad and let her know that she had "hot thighs". the next day she snubbed me so bad that she posted all over my orkut wall with the words- perhaps you should admire the thighs of your mother and sister. I cried so much and begged her for mercy. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I promised everyone that this would be my last time but no, over the years it went on to become greater and greater. Nowadays I am rather uncomfortable if no one calls me a horny bastard.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Some women had gone on to suggest marriage will cure me of all sickness. Now the said advise came from an American setlled friend who is "unofficially" separated from her husband. <br>
But I realize I am very comfortable with myself and shed off all the pretensions. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Sometimes I am quite surprised that smaller things ae quite eniough to arouse the horny bastard in me<br>
A few days ago I realized after a meal a small parrticle gets caught up in my teeth. I then struggle half an hour with my toungue and hands to get it out. i asked around who the cheapest dentist was.<br>
Dentists are the hot money makers of today. They use very cheap materials and make more than 100 percent profit. Atlast I got reffered to a dentist couple.I went for an appointment and was asked by the receptionist whom I preffered to see</p>
<p dir=ltr>Although my choice was the lady, I preffered to be the gentleman and gave the choice to the receptionist. The receptionist , to my relief, fixed my appointment with th lady</p>
<p dir=ltr>I was even more rlieved to find a prety cute Brahmin lady with the most perfect curves. As she started prodding my teeth , exclaimimg how horrible they were I closed my eyes and lay dreaming about her, blissfully unaware of the drills carving my mouth. The latex gloves in her hands was a distraction. May be this is the reason people hate condoms.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Towards the end of it I felt a strange sensation and looked up to see there were no gloves in the hands digging into my mouth. <br>
And i lay blissfully licking the hand , feigning ignorance<br>
</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-5788369595255226162014-08-15T01:23:00.001-07:002014-08-15T01:23:46.001-07:00Happy independence day you all<p dir=ltr>Happy Independence day to one and all. Narendra Modiji would have delivered his first Red fort speech by now. A dream come true for him</p>
<p dir=ltr>For the past fe days my TL has been littered with requests from patriotic Indian to change my DP into tri-colour. My whatsapp and Twitter pages are filled with patriots. Why this over expression for patriotism I don't understand. Added to that all government employees have been asked to assemble at sharp 8 and raise the flag. I am a little low on patriotism so didn,t go<br>
It is yet to be seen if the stimulation of nationalistic feeling is a method to gain sanction for everything a particlar individual doe, with the rhetoric that it's for good of the nation!</p>
<p dir=ltr>My next two weeks will be filled with Marriage parties. I guess they chose the Independence week as a moment to shed independence. What a joke<br>
Anyways some of the last in the list of yet-to-be-marrried is getting married off</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-11263715496572019252014-05-13T20:33:00.001-07:002014-05-13T20:33:26.603-07:00The daily thought- Enough Money<p dir=ltr>More and more of my friends come up with the wonderful idea of 'investing'. No one is happy with having a bank balance. Everyone wants to start a business or invest it somewhere.</p>
<p dir=ltr>I have known this guy for years. He has been telling me his conquests in equity market. He asked me to seriously think about starting a business where I can offer my advises for people to invest.Well, it sounds cool.</p>
<p dir=ltr>After almost a week return home and took up the newspaper . Kerala police has launched 'operation kubera' to inish off the money lenders aka blade mafia. This was prompted by a family suicide involving 5. The family had borrowed some 40 lakhs from different people.</p>
<p dir=ltr>I browsed through a few papers and came to know that the son had borrowed 40 lakhs to invest in share market<br>
It seems 'enough money' is the new oxymoron </p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-16452845638563114152014-03-25T10:34:00.001-07:002014-03-25T10:51:55.032-07:00Film to miss - Queen <p dir=ltr>It's been quite a while since I have seen a movie. So a fiend calls me out for one. In the last minute there comes a change of plan and we go for the 'Queen'. </p>
<p dir=ltr>At first I thought it might be some English movie on the life of Queen Elizabeth , but alas, no. This movie was meant to be done sometime in 80's. If you've been following the 'popular' Hindi films for the last two years, you better give this a miss. </p>
<p dir=ltr>The  girl is from Delhi, but straight out of history text book. So she always pleats her hair , wear salwaar and studies Home Sciene (yeah ther's a course with the name. She never ever touched alcohol, haven't seen condom and thinks that dildos are used to give heart patients a massage. Before I forget, yes she's a Punjabi like every other movie.</p>
<p dir=ltr>So a chocolate guy, who's-not-that-famous-yet, seduces her. But he is typical Indian guy and dominates her. She is ready to sacrifice everythin. Marriage is fixed and you know what....</p>
<p dir=ltr>Yea, he ditches her. She is broken but she had a dream of going to Paris for honeymoon and you know what...</p>
<p dir=ltr>Yea she goes for honeymoon alone. The Delhi girl doesn't know French and speaks English like Russian and is fully clothed all the time and you know what....</p>
<p dir=ltr>She meets up with a girl who is not at all clothed, drinks and smokes all the time, who has a 6 year old something boy ( who is her life but still don't come on the screen as Mom has to attend rave party every night). Of course, half her parent is Indian so she speaks fluent Angrezi hindi and you know what....</p>
<p dir=ltr>Our desi girl accidentally drinks some alcohol during a rave part she bumped into. Suddenly the French pub plays some old Hindi kinky song and our desi actress shakes her boots and she learns she can be independent</p>
<p dir=ltr>Since our Desi girl has flown to Europe, she will have to retrieve her identity by beating the whites and you know what...</p>
<p dir=ltr>Director packs her off to Amsterdam where she wns a cooking competition. She french kisses a white guy and she is fully confident now but you know what....</p>
<p dir=ltr>Her old boy friend comes in search for her. She discovers she ought to be at a Rock Show... End of the Story</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8229687483886355558.post-35277186493922600622014-01-30T19:12:00.001-08:002014-01-30T19:12:00.507-08:00The daily Thought- Broken Glass Windows<p dir=ltr>It;s very difficult to keep up with an initiative however small it is. But it's good to have some discipline</p>
<p dir=ltr>The last day I was reading a bok written bya close confidante of Hitler. He was Hitler's chief architect and in no ways involved in any millitary or ideological decision of the Nazi regime</p>
<p dir=ltr>He says in the book how he and his fellow Germans saw the broken glasses of jewish shops, when the repressions sarted, and chose to walk away. They did so because they did not want to be bothered or they thougt Hitler meant only good for the country</p>
<p dir=ltr>Today we are surrounded by the images of the broken windows and we choose to walk away. I'm sure we are going to regret soon</p>
Jonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02353132118227776294noreply@blogger.com0