Friday, May 28, 2010

6th standard B- Part 2, Inside Princi's room





Disclaimer: For the record, The story is 40% true and rest fiction. Hope that clears it all.


"Dei Amit, thats a bad word ,no da", I asked Amit in a hushed tone. "Yes,definitely it is", Amit said still looking at the board in horror. "Pradeep, rub it da.", I screamed at him ,while he was still decorating the abusive word with a dotted underline . To my horror Miss. Jayanthi,who was walking past the corridor heard my scream and came over to the class. She peeped inside shouting"Whats the noise? Pin drop silence everyone.". We all became still like somebody had said "Statue" to us. Miss.Jayanthi shared baleful glances at me,the deep brothers,amit and Sundar who was standing beside us. She went out of the class without uttering a single word. My heart was still pounding. I kept my hand on my heart and felt it for a moment.



Lunch break was over. The board was rubbed, the bad word gone and replaced by the ovals of set language.Yes,it was maths class. Miss. RamaLakshmi, playfully called Jill Jill Ramamani by us, was teaching us the simplest book examples and writing them on the board,none of which I listened to. I knew there was some impending danger. The biggest problem was that I did not know the meaning of the bad word.Somehow I felt the quantum of punishment would be proprortional to the profanity of the word. Suddenly, there was a disruption in the class. The office boy stepped into the class. Everybody usually heaves a sigh of relief when the office boy comes along, and the teacher reads us some notice about some holiday , Saturday timetable or sports day practise , thereby giving us a much wanted break from the monotony of the class. But this time it was bad news. "Sendeeb, bradeeb, kuldeeb, nerasimhen,amit, sunder. You are wanded at the principel office", Said Jill Jill in typical Mallu accent.


"Shit. I did not do anything. Why should I be punished?" , said Sunder, walking vigourously outside the principal's office. It was a huge office room with low hanging fans ,with ladies sipping tea and doing some monotonous and relentless typing.They were looking both dull and sick with not an inch of enthusiasm on their face. The wall had a few framed photos. One of the men in the frame had a moustache and wore a turban .He looked like a perfect man to be photographed to promote Rajasthan tourism. The next photo was that of a Sardarji who was smiling. I started mentally picturing him in all of the Sardarji jokes I knew. And next to that was the picture of Nehru and Nelson Mandela. The founders thought that putting their photos next to famous people made them seem like world leaders.

"I am going to tell the truth, the deeps did that. They need to be punished " said Sunder. "No . Dont say anything . Nothing will happen", I said trying to reaffirm him. Aarthi our class leader walked into the office room with a huge pile of arithmetic notes. She stopped beside us , looked at me and said,"Say Principal sorry. Only that will save you" and walked past us keeping the notes on the nearby table. Amit said," I think we should write a letter saying we are sorry. That will save us.". "Good idea", sunder seconded. I went forward and asked Aarthi for some paper. She took her Arithmetic note(we used to write landscaped on Arithmetic notes, because each step was long for equations).I noticed a ninja sticker on the front and "Arithamatics" written on it. She gently tore the middle page,seperated it from the thread holding it and gave it to me. "Its arithmetic not arithamatics",I said in an attempt to correct the typo(or rather writo). She gave a dirty look.


"Ok, So amit you write the letter", I said and handed over the paper to him. Amit readily took out his '35 rupees new hero pen' and tried to make a start. He wrote in big letters "Apologization letter" and double underlined it with a pillayar suzhi at the top. "Its for luck", Amit said . "Oh ok . Apply some turmeric along the sides of the sorry letter too",I replied in 6th standard sarcasm. Amit did not budge at that and asked," Should From address come first or to address". I was'nt too sure. Sunder replied,"its from address". The deeps said in unison, "Its to address da. ". "Ok, 3 hands in favour of to address first and 1 in favour of from address first. So to address first wins",I announced the results of my democratic and fair address selection process. Amit continued writing vigorously and stopped only after 5 minutes .I then took the sheet from him and looked at it. His writing was slanted to the left and looked like the big rice grains you get to see in Kerala meals. The letter looked something like this.


Apologization letter


To,
Principal sir,
Principal office,
1st floor, near office room,
Nehru Vidhyalaya,
coimbatore.
TN-641007

From,
6th standard B,
ground floor(near corridor aquarium),
Nehru vidhyala,
coimbatore.
TN-641007

Respected Principal sir,

We are writing this to say sorry about the bad word incident accident. We would to like to apogolise apologify apologise on the accident. We dont know who commited the crime, by god promise .We even dont know the meaning of the bad word. We also have no link to bathroom bomb blast last diwali. Hence we request you to kindly grant us leave forget and forgive us on this.

Your respectfully obiedent obidient students of 6th B,
(signed with a signature saying 6th B students)

Date:18-09-1998
Place:Nehru Vidhyalaya,Coimbatore




"Perfect.", said Kuldeep also peeping in at the letter. Sundar then looked at it and said "You will get only 3 marks for this". Sandeep and Pradeep were busy pulling the chained tumbler at the water filter at the corner of the room. "This is so stupid . Why did you mention about the bathroom bomb incident. This is the worst letter ever.", I yelled at Amit. He fired back,"Oh, if you were so clever why dont you write the apogolization letter". I wanted to call him a dog and cleverly divert the argument, but the office anna came and summoned us"Ulla vaa."(Come the hell inside).


Our principal Mr.Natrajan was looking busy . He had bunch of papers on his table. He signed them one by one and stamped a few of them. I had a sudden desire to become a principal and sit inside a room like that. He then licked his fingers with his tongue and turned the pages. Not for once did he even glance at us. His table had a beautiful paper transparent paper weight with shiny red stuff in it, which looked tempting enough to steal. I looked at his clock, his set of pens on the table, his unshaved stub on his face, the wooden deer with horns, hanging on the wall. It was 5 minutes since we went inside the room and he still did not even acknowledge our presence. I wanted to bring the typewriter from outside with the help of pradeep and throw it at him. "Why is he making us stand this much?", Sunder asked me in whispers. "He thinks we have Piles", I replied in a fit. Sundar gave out a laughter bursting like an empty tap blowing out air, inturn spraying spit of my right cheek. I wiped it with my shirt.


Princi gave me a menacing look through his specs. He finally got up and for some reason I was not scared at all."Do I look funny to you", he put a general question to all of us. I wanted to say Yes, but I did'nt. He walked along the side of his chair and went near the window,looked outside and asked,"So who did it?". Frankly we all thought he was speaking to somebody outside the window and we did not respond. He waited for 15 seconds ,turned towards us, looked at me specifically and shouted "Who did it ? Who wrote that word. Tell the truth, you young fellow with spectacles"and thumped his table. His pen stand fell down from the table making him feel slightly embarassed and deep brothers chuckled on that. In the meantime I removed my glasses. Princi picked up the pens and looked back at us. Nobody had glasses anymore. He looked bewildered for a moment.


"Dont waste my time and in turn your time. You know the consequences will be severe. Its better you tell the truth about who did it.",He said threatening us. Amit kept his hand in his pocket trying to get his 'Shakespearean Sorry letter' . I resisted and held his arm tight. Everybody was silent and Princi went about walking around the room . He restarted,"So looks like you chaps want to learn things the hard way. I ll tell you what I am going to do. Either you tell me the truth within a day, or you are suspended for a week and I get to meet your parents to tell them about this. Take your decision."

The three of us walked out of the principal room and moved towards the stairs. Sundar said,"Look what happened. If my appa knew, he will beat me with a belt. Why should I get beatings for what I have not done". Amit looked at me and said,"See, Thats why you should have submitted my letter.". I replied,"Oh yes Mark Twain!, your letter would have had him all wound up with your beautiful words. Lets talk about the real problem here". The deep brothers looked free from worry . "chalo, leave it. These people will just threaten. Nothing will happen. Remember what happened during the diwali bomb blast? Nobody can do anything",said Pradeep walking alongside me. Sandeep nodded along, he had stolen the paperweight and was playing with it. Kuldeep was walking with us gazing at a tree. Kuldeep suddenly asked out of the blue"How do we find out if that bird is a Koel or Cuckoo?". I thumped him hard on his ribs for that.

Tell the truth or get caught at home and get a week's dose? I was in a fix. I wished I could go 10 years forward in time where I had my own money and I could run out of home .

To be continued...


P.S: Thanks for the kind words as always. :).

Also, thanks Dinesh for making that pic. :)





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Saturday, May 22, 2010

6th B, part 1


My autodriver had driven me late to school and I was pretty tense . I was sitting next to him in the front seat, in an auto full of kids from our school. Driver anna had no space for himself and almost drove with his body outside the auto. As soon as he stopped at the school gate to our watchman's relentless whistle blows, I got down from my auto hurriedly and ran towards my class '6th standard B'(batch stated to be the worst batch ever,for 8 consecutive years now. I don't quite know the parameters to assess the worst class of the year or the judges behind this prestigious award). I sprinted across the main building, quickly reached the corridor which had a giant aquarium and ran into 6th standard 'B'. The class leader , Aarthi had wiped the board clean , written 18-9-1998 at the side and had written "Try,try,try But dont cry " in pink chalk. There was a portion of the board dedicated to the 'juvenile,making no sense' proverb of the day .





"Dei, I am also joining da", I said to Amit.S , my north Indian classmate, native of Rajasthan and settled in Coimbatore for a decade.My school had an equal mix of North and South Indians, with north indians densely populated in the B section, because it was the hindi section. Amit was one of my close friends and partner in crime. Amit spoke funny tamil as expected of any north indian settled in Coimbatore, and was one of the few north indians who studied well(others were sure to land up at their father's business ,and made it a point to enjoy school life). "You came late. Match is almost starting now da", he said shuffling the WWF trump cards. He evenly distributed the cards between himself , deep brothers(3 people) and me. The deep brothers comprised of Sandeep,Pradeep and Kuldeep. Sandeep and Pradeep were twins( age of Sandeep - age of Pradeep=10 mintues), whereas Kuldeep was born two years later. However like the noble brothers of amar,akbar and antony, the three brothers failed at different points in time and finally converged at 6th B for a 'Yaadon ki Baarat' reunion. Deep brothers were the sons of the upper middle class cloth merchants and hardly required to study. And yes, fact- Kuldeep never wore an underwear, a thing confirmed time and again by us when his pencil fell down.

I had got Hulk-Hogan, Hitman and Giant Gonzales today with me. I was guaranteed to win.I sat in reverse on my desk with people entering the class in the background, while others were all talking. Class leader Aarthi got up and went to the front to mind the class. I put my finger on the lips to my gang indicating silence at play. The game was going well, I had the cards for highest height,fights fought and biceps . My win would have almost been certain if only my class teacher, Sharada miss,had not entered the class so soon. Sharada miss taught us Hindi. She had a scar on her face(6th 'A' rumour was that a cooker exploded near her face and she got a vertical scar on her left cheek. We sincerely believed that). She was one of the very strictest(in 6th standard lingo) miss of the school. "Is this a fish market or what?" , shouted Miss.Sharada. If she had an eye patch , her scar and eye patch combination would have made her look like a pirate.By the way, the fish market dialogue is the most banal Indian school cliche.

Sharada miss went to her desk and started taking the attendance one by one. Attendance was my favourite time of the day. My mind used to statistically list down the number of people who said "Present","Yes" with a combination of "miss" or "ma'am" crossed joined. I wished there were 800 students in class and attendance lasted one hour long. Attendance was done, Aarthi took the register and was involved in some flattery with Miss.Sharada. "Stupid dog", amit mumbled looking at aarthi and I nodded along in agreement. First period(ya, we used it innocently call classes periods) was Miss.Pandian's today. It was Biology class. Miss.Pandian was the almost 60 year old Miss who taught us Biology and whose class we would have most fun in. She wrote down a few of distinguish betweens, which got rubbed from the board quickly . I ended up copying from Amit,and Kuldeep to my left copied from me,and Pradeep inturn copied from Kuldeep. Sandeep stood up from the row behind me and copied from Amit and me mixed. So mistakes from Amit's note amplified level by level with every subsequent person, and Pradeep would end up failing,(Unit test 1,he drew something which looked like Devegowda for an Yeast molecule.)

Miss.Pandian made the entire class repeat the distinguish answers after her. "chlamydomonas is a unicelular organism." and "Spyrogyra is a multicellular organism". Sandeep hatched a clever plot. All the boys would whisper the first line and the second line we would all scream like hell. Everybody were a part of this except Sundar kannan , the first ranker. Sundar was the geek of the class. He was the only person in our class who had a Computer and had excellent computer skillsets like MS Excel,powerpoint,Pacman,wolf and Dave.Anyway,It was time for fun. We are all whispering the line "chlamydomonas is a unicelular organism". Some guys even made hissing noises for added effects. All the girls were smiling at that. Now it was time for screaming. We shouted to the top of our voices" Spyyyyyyyrogyyyyyra is a agaabaagaaaraagaaa organism". Pradeep and Kuldeep wohooed at the end adding to the fun, while Sandeep gave a finger in the mouth whistle(He was the only person who could do that in 6th and 7th fully included). Miss.Pandian went crazy and could not figure out who did what. "Stop shouting", she screamed. Sandeep cleverly said,"Miss, you are only shouting now no miss" to which the entire class laughed. "Shut up", Miss.Pandian said . "I am never going to come to the class", she said with a look of contempt at the boys and walked out. "Sorry miss", said aarthi running behind her and trying to do some damage control. "See, Aarthi will now fall downing on Miss's feet ", said Amit in one of the worst framed sentences in English ever.


"We are all gone. Maybe they will suspend us. Already they suspect our class for the bathroom bomb blast last diwali. " ,said Sundar genuinely concerned. "What a baby", I said and patted Kuldeep giving him an indication to laugh at my comment. Kuldeep responded like a faithful dog anticipating a piece of rusk and laughed . Pradeep joined in hooting, and Sandeep too later laughed along, only knowing the fact that we were laughing at Sundar.Sundar shut himself up and turned to the front. Aarthi came back and we did not know what happened at the staff room. We had two periods of history after Biology. Our history miss Gita was very strict and used to hit us on our palms with the wooden scale held vertically if we created any trouble(Sundar used to contribute the wooden scale which had Sundar.S written on it, scratched in an ugly fashion with an old blade from his father's shaving kit).We were all very quiet during the two history periods and I even yawned inside my mouth without opening it, so as not to get a "Stand up on the bench" order, which she issued as freely as home loan pamphlets.

It was around lunch time now. The bell rang and everybody took out their carrybags. Amit and I were the uber cool guys who kept small tiffen boxes in our bags itself and brought no water bottles. Amit brought 2 chappaties for himself, with some potato fry. I always wondered how that would be enough for a normal human being, considering that I could eat ten chappaties (even at that age). Deep brothers brought a triple deck tiffen box with many rotis and a deck dedicated to dal. I brought lemon rice and Sundar would eat his curd rice with pickle all alone in the front. Other gangs used to eat amongst themselves. And the girls, we did'nt care about the girls.

Amit and I had our lunch and went to our school pantry. It was time for having our favourite 1 rupee pepsi. I took out three 25 paise coins from my pocket and realized I was short of 25 paise. Amit took out his purse(He was the only guy who had a purse) and handed out 5 rupees to the shopkeeper. Amit's parents were very rich and kind, they gave him 50 rupees of pocket money every month. I gave 75 paise for my pepsi to amit and promised the remaining 25 paise the next day . Amit said "Chalta hai , Boss" and winked. We quickly headed back to the class after sucking in the grape flavoured pepsi. Free time in lunch was utilized playing pen fight on our desks. We had a tag team match today and so we hurried back to class.

Pradeep and Sandeep were busy drawing something on the board when we walked into the class. They drew a caricature on board and wrote the words below which said something called "MADHER****" with a double underline below it, which turned out to be the reason for our suspension in a few hours.


(To be continued...)

P.S: Again, thanks for the support. Corporate monkey ideas lingering in my head. Will continue with that too soon. As always, do comment.




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Saturday, May 15, 2010

Corporate Monkey, Match making,part 2



Read part 1 here

"Sabapathy does'nt bite" said Mr.vishwanathan as he came out from the hall. What? Did the dog jump like a surface missile towards the gate to give me a French kiss then. I knew they all bite, and Sabapathy would be no exception to that. Never trust dogs, and dog owners too.They all say the same thing, "tommy does'nt bite, jimmy does'nt bite, laser does'nt bite", but you never know until they come and grab a piece of you. And hell, where have I heard the name Sabapathy for a dog before. Mr. Vishwanaathan was wearing an yellow t-shirt with an IT company's name with a cliched tagline, which said 'delivering excellence'(probably gifted by an NRI IT guy). Mr.Vishwanathan tied the pomeranian monster to a corner just provding enough space for a normal BMIed man to walk without getting bitten by the son of a bitch(ya, literally he is one) . Saba looked dirty and reminded me of my old white pillow which had cotton coming out of it. He looked at me with anger and kept GRRRRRRing as a sign of intimidation as I entered his territory(which he had probably marked by peeing concentric circles around the house's corridor). " Ya, GRRR to you as well,", I thought as I waved a short goodbye with my hands . If only Mr.Vishwanathan had'nt been there, I would have shown the middle finger to the dog, keeping my tongue out like him as I did that. Clearly Saba did not like being provoked and kept grrring all along.




I entered the Vishwanathan home carefully with an eye behind me, lest Saba does not suddenly jump out and bite my posterior. Their home had the typical south indian feel with the noise of a cooker welcoming you, fried chilli to choke your breath as you enter the home, the smoke of aggarbathi from the puja room,hindu paper with the solved sudoku, various gods decorating the dining table, and a giant clock set 10 minutes ahead of IST(ya, we think doing this makes us race ahead the rest of India). I stood there waiting for someone to ask me to get seated. "Make yourself Comfortable" said mr.Vishwanathan as he entered the hall. I double checked Saba's absence in the room. Somehow the dog was bothering me.


A teenge boy looking around wearing a yellow star-wars t-shirt and a pink shorts, sporting uncombed hair entered the room. This is Arjun, my son , Mr.vishwanathan said . I shook hands and said "Gopal".The boy asked asked "waat?". "My name is Gopal" I said. "Let me get you something to drink" said Mr.Vishwanathan and headed to the kitchen. Arjun took his hands from the shakehand, gave no smile and sat on the sofa adjacent to me . He took the remote, tossed it from his right hand , caught it in his left and changed the channel to jetix. 5 masked people who I doubted were trans-genders were fighting a clunky fake,metal dragon. Arjun was giving a retard smile and enjoying the show. I was disinterested and I looked on their wall where a spider was caught my attention.

The spider walked in slowly and creeped near the housefly . Just when it made the final sprint, the housefly made a quick escape.I clapped my hands out of excitement for the housefly. Arjun looked bewildered,but thankfully got back to the TV. The spider's failed breakfast attempt reminded me that I was hungry. My stomach had already given me 2 audible missed calls indicating immediate food requirement. "Padma is getting ready" Mr.Vishwanathan said as he brought a glass of water for me and sat on a wooden chair directly opposite me. "Its hot in Chennai now" said Mr.Vishwanathan, make a lame attempt at smalltalk,as he sat. I nodded to his remark. "Saw the match yesterday? , CSK semma super. That Murali played superbly",he said. "Hmmmm, ya",I nodded. I am one of the few people in the country who dont watch cricket and think we save time not watching it, and here he was trying to break the ice with a cricket topic. "Well, uncle. I dont quite watch cricket", I said. He looked amused at that and blew a puff of air ("poof") as if I had read out a sardarji joke from my sms inbox.


An old lady walked out of one of the rooms slowly. "This is my mother, Ranganayaki", he said,getting up introducing me to her. "Hi", I said to her without even a slight application of mind on how to greet elderly people. She looked offended like I had sung racial slurs and gave a nasty look. She looked like the kind of lady who would charge me for obscenity if she saw me wearing shorts in public. She took another wooden chair and sat diagonally to me. The boy was still watching power rangers with keen interest, the dragon was dead by this time. Mr. Vishwanathan said"Let me check on Padma"."Sure uncle",I said. Its been 15 minutes since I walked into their home, and still she was'nt ready. 15 minutes to get ready??, man,I could get a Hippo dressed and ready with makeup in 15 minutes.

Arjun walked out of the house for some reason and I was left alone in the room, with grandma looking at me without blinking. I wondered if I should wave my hands before her face to confirm she was concious. "What was she taking that long for?",I thought. I had come to look for a date into their home, and here I was carbon dating her grandmother. I smiled at my own creative wordplay,as I thought that line. Granny saw me smile by myself and gave another serious offensive look which probably suggested that I needed to be whipped 1000 times and banished from Madras for smiling without reason. Mr.Vishwanathan still did not return from his hunt for Padma. Probably he was googling "where is my daughter" on his laptop. I was getting more and more uncomfortable with time, especially with inactive granny relentlessly staring at me. I got back to looking at the spider . "Ha, No way are you good enough for her dude. ", said the spider,venting his frustration on me. "Ya, you wish . But the girl is mine",I replied making lame trash talk with the spider. "Get rational dude ",spidey said.

Finally Mr.Vishwanathan arrived on the scene. His daughter clad in a white salwar, with some kind of black stuff painted around her eye region like someone had punched her black and blue on the face. She did not look as pretty as in the pic(I suspect a photoshop inside job there), nevertheless. "Hi", I said giving my most possible natural smile and not knowing whether to shake hands in front of the father or not."Hi, take your seat", she said with a smile . I heard something creek, and noticed Arjun walking inside the house. To my horror I found Sabapathy with him unchained. He looked at me and gave me a look which said "Ha, there you are . So who's your daddy now?". Saba took a gasp , moved back, grrred for second, and lept forward on me. I dont remember what happened then.

It must be around a minute later, when I got back to my senses and realized that I was on the floor. "He kicked the dog,how insensitive", said Padma. Saba was on the floor completely subdued, probably even unconscious. "Ha", I said out, unfortunately a little loud as I realized my triumph over Saba. The granny,father and Padma all gave equally vicious stares. Granny kept her palm on her mouth like she had won Miss.Asia Pacific 2010. Arjun was half interested in watching Jetix and rest interested in watching me get screwed up. Spider looked at me and said "Ha ha, ROFL dude",and gave me a wink. I realized I had become the villain there. They took Saba to the Vet and I followed along in my bike.The Vet informed them that I had kicked the dog hard on the collarbone and that he needed surgery. "Sorry, it was all impulse. I did'nt mean to do that. I will pay for his surgery",I said apologizing to Mr.Vishwanathan and Padma as we walked out of CICU(Canine ICU). "Thats alright",they said although they did'nt quite mean it. I bid them an uncomfortable goodbye and left on my bike.

I earned the wrath of the family, lost to a spider, kicked a dog , and worse skipped my breakfast for the day.

And that was the last time I heard from them .


One week later....

"Look at this profile"said Mr.AnanthaNarayan to his missus.He read out "Good photo. Profile says smart, ambitious boy, well paid, 28 years old seeking Tamil Brahmin girl preferably working in software. And Wait..err..look at this, 'Family with dogs prohibited'.".

P.S: Phew, Reduced the 3 post detailing to 2 posts finally which means compromise on detailing and story flow. Thanks for all the support. Do tell me if corporate monkey should be continued as a series.

Please do comment(positive/negative) on the series. Comments are the biggest motivation to me dedicating time to write. :)
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Friday, May 14, 2010

Corporate monkey:Match making Part 1

Disclaimer: For Pillayaar's sake, this story is fictitious . This is the story of Gopal Ranganathan aka "The corporate monkey" narrating it in first person.

I had the invite today to meet the Vishwanathans at Mylapore for breakfast, to get them acquainted to me. So here is the thing. The Vishwanathans found my shaadi.com profile to be the nearest match to their "Looking for a Tamil Brahmin, decent, well salaried boy from decent family" requirement. Frankly, while I found the requirement with the double 'decent' condition ridiculuous, I somehow liked the girl Padmaroopini Vishwanathan's plastic smile,inspite of her clearly seemeing uncomfortable before the camera. Her profile mentioned her as a fun loving, enthusiastic person with a positive outlook and that she worked for an IT firm (Heh, who does'nt work for an IT firm?). There was no other info or photo of her on her profile. Clearly her parents were operating her profile. I had received an interest from them a couple of days ago. Things moved fast and they had invited me over for breakfast just as a means for the family to get to know me.

Oh, yes . I am Gopal Ranganathan. A TamBrahm eligible bachelor staying at Triplicane ,Madras. My parents stay at Madurai and I came over to chennai for my livelihood 3 years ago. I am an archeologist and part time filmmaker. Oh, So you fell for that. I am just a routine software developer making my money writing java code, half stolen googling around the internet and half Ctrl+V'ing the existing code and renaming the variables. I am 27.895 years old and my secondary, just for fun,fake profile on shaadi.com goes something like this. "Tamil brahmin boy ,27 , fair and lovely , handsome ,earning a 5 digit salary with the left most digit being prime, seeks well educated, non ugly , working girl . Daughters of zamindars, industrialists, bollywood celebrities can also apply(Groom is willing to sit unemployed throught out life in that case)." 237 morons reported abuse on that profile. So I have to maintain a so-called decent profile of myself with my boring bio presented in Curriculum vitae format(including details of my wins at essay writing competitions featuring whole of 7th standard C section).

Oops,before I forget to mention, I am the monkey of the series " The Corporate monkey". Why am I called this? You will know .






It was 7 am which means I got up far too early from my usual waking time of 11.30 am . I had to meet Roopa Padmanathan's family ...err ... i meant Padma Roopnathan ... ok... whatever it was, I was still not fully awake and definitely not awake enough to remember the name. I switched on my laptop and logged into my gmail account. Logging into gmail and facebook after booting a pc comes involuntarily to you after a few months of employment. I noticed that I had 3400 unread emails. Here is the unwritten rule

if(number of emails in inbox> number of emails in spam)
{
System.out.println("Lame dude has subscribed to matrimonials or naukri.com/pornhub.com or all of the preceding");
}
I had created separate filters systematically on my mailbox. So it was classified the following way.
1.Tamil Matrimony
2.Kannada Matrimony
3. Pakistan dating online(Ya, I like their profile pics)
4. Naukri spam
5.Possible naukri non spam.

I went through 20 jeevansathi profiles and for pleasure sake checked out the profile of Hafza and Raheema from the Pak corner. It was around 8.20 am when I stopped wandering link after link after link. I had just enough time to be there by 9 am. So I took a quick shower, got myself dressed in my only set of ironed t-shirt and jeans, oiled my hair for the first time in 3 months and combed it in a dignified manner. I kick-started my bike and made my way through the grilling morning heat.


The city was already awake and bustling with activity. The auto drivers were plundering the roads early in the day with their subtle driving skills, wrong side driving, and the evergreen "vootla sollitu vandiya" yells( nearest translation is "Did you inform your kin before setting off from home ?"). I innovatively drove between two autodrivers , followed the chennai corporation garbage collection truck for 7 minutes without breathing and cleverly dodged a cab driver who was gifted with commonsense2.0 for opening the door to spit out beeda(paan) while he was on the drive.


It was around 8.50 am when I reached Mylapore . I started circling the Nehru colony's maze. It looked to me like I was inside a puzzle played by a clueless teenager. I had to ask the area iron-man(No,not the super-hero, the guy who presses the clothes) for the whereabouts of the address. He told me to take the third right after the second left near the house with the slanted cocunut tree. I thanked him and searched around the area driving. As I drove, I realized that ll of the houses had coconut trees and everything looked slanted to me. I bad mouthed iron man's parentage and dialled Mr.Vishwanathan's number sneaking my cell phone gently through my helmet and got the phone near my left ear. Vishwanathan gave me prominent understandable landmarks like street pumps, transformers and garbage cans which were on the way to his home.

I took the left to the urine-smelling transformer zone,the right next to the water pump which had created a puddle for mosquitoes to thrive in and took a lane opposite to the giant garbage can. I reached a yellowish pink home with the name Mr.Vishwanathan written on the outside wall and noticed that a crow had delicately decorated the 'i' and 's' of his name with its droppings. I parked my bike outside and headed off to the gate.

A white Pomeranian jumped out of nowhere catching me completely by surprise . Little did I then know that the dog would be the cause of all the evil that was to come by.


(To be continued...)


P.S: Require your views on this one. I will continue based on whether you guys like it or not.


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Saturday, May 8, 2010

Working out

So Here I was in the waiting room of the gym,my mind burdened with the guilt of losing 14k in 8 seconds. The gym accountant happily took my debit card , swiped it in his mouth and gave me the merchant copy for my approval.Asking me to wait in the reception seating area, he got back to his work. Looking at his evil smile , I assume he was probably looking at debonair blog or last year's savitha bhabhi archives.Slowly, My mind wandered to whether gym would work out for me (or rather if I would work out at the gym properly). Well, How hard could it be? I mean,a lot of these bollywood kids do it. And imagine how nice it would be to have a shahid kapoor torso and how nice would it be to have girls fall for me. Just when my mind started wandering towards Miami beach,the "son of an idiot" trainer who deserved to be oil fried to death for disturbing my fantasy showed up .





My head banged on the entrance door. Only later to notice a "Keep your head down" sign over the top. The trainer apparently blessed with the IQ of a 5 year old found the slapstick incident as the only understandable source of comedy for the day and gave a big grin. I then gave him a tight slap across his left cheek. Oh, ok , that did'nt happen(though I wanted to). So here I was staring at all the equipments of the gym. The trainer took all the measurement like he was going to stitch a tuxedo for me. He handed out my card which described my body with numerous statistical data. It had data on my body mass, fat mass, water mass, land mass, and other terms which I am pretty sure are made up by these people.

There are 2 kinds of people who you see at the gym . The ones who could hurt your ego. The others who are sent by god to make you feel better about yourself. There was this huge muscular guy, who brought a fancy "Glucose isotonic" drink to gym, wore this adidas wrist band,a tight t-shirt and no inner banian to highlight his physique . He looked like he could swallow a live chicken right away and give 4 loud burps in each direction as a sign of masculinity. When I saw him , I imagined a live chicken sitting in his stomach waiting for somebody to get it out of there. He lifted a 20 kg dumbbell making the "ARRRRGGHHH" noise as he lifted them, in contrast to my louder "ARRRRGGHHH" when I lift the 2kg vegetable oil pack from my bike to the kitchen. He kept repeating the dumbbell workout like an out of control maniac making a weird "woof woof" noise . Looking at him was intimidating me. Frankly he could trash me up in a moment with just his left thumb.There was no way I could get a physique like that. The only way I could snub him was probably by showing him my marksheet and saying "Ha, Now take that superman".

And there there is this god sent fat uncle who drives a skoda, sports a moustache and looks like a Helium gas balloon. He looked frigging rich, always had a blackberry (which looked like an AA battery in his giant palm) and struggles to type in it with his giant fingers. Thankfully, people like him are the ego- boosters for new joineess at the gym. Genearally fat-skoda uncle walks on the treadmill as slowly as the lines of devotees in Tirupathi.

The ladies at the gym mostly constitute the middle aged maamis who probably think that they look like Hemamalini's second sister and wear makeup for a workout. These are the middle aged women who are probably wives of early software techies of the 90's who have enough money to throw away and enough time in their hands. As expected they speak of soaps, gossips about who ran away with whom and blaming the government.

I move away to the place where I could sneak away with a mild exercise away from these people. So I take a 6 kg dumbbell , start curling my biscep. The trainer told me to repeat that 20 times,2 sets(ya, sets is the gym lingo indicating repitition). this was when I realized how much of a big number 20 was. While I conveniently was counting alternate digits, I noticed a well built girl walking beside me and taking the 8 kg dumbbell. She wore a huge circular ear ring, big enough that it looked like the hoop that lions jump into at Royal circus. She started her 8kg workout and quite comfortably started curling her bicep,putting my male-ego to further embarrassment. After counting till 19 in my odd number series, I started seeing red spots flying near me. I stepped away from the "Karnam Malleshwari of Adyar zone" and went to the water dispenser and had my fill of water.

I kick started my bike and headed off home.Thoughts started filling my mind again. Maybe I need not be a fit guy to get what I dream of. Maybe I ll just work hard and become something like Vijay Mallya. Then probably, I could have my own custom Kingfisher super-model calendar. While my mind was drifting to the shores of the Miami beach again,a guy drove past me in a pulsar whose life purpose was to wreck my fantasies shouted, "Oiiii, side stand". I saw him, it was'nt a he after all. Miss "Karnam Malleshwari of Adyar zone" drives a Pulsar. I stopped my CT-100 (108kmpl mileage bike) at the corner in disappointment

P.S: I promise I will write more frequently than my gym visits. And also, most importantly thanks to everyone who has been visiting my blog for the past few months.
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