Alrighty, the money is in. I got 2 days, 4th and 5th of October to shoot 9 people. I hope everything goes according to the plan and I don't get caught by the law.

With Law I mean the Murphy's law. It follows you around. Hope the 9 actors deliver the lines and I am able to deliver their emotions.

I wrote a quote yesterday "Human emotions are directly or indirectly related to Money". I feel like a genius all of a sudden cuz I see the depth in that sentence. Yeah but what the hell...someone else might have written it before me. Nothing is original in this world, except for a new born baby with a brand new brain which we fill with all the unoriginal things of the world. Unless you invent a word like "lwitter" a 8 letter update website. If you fail to update your status every minute your account will be deleted. WEBSTER are you listening?

So I was thinking about the future and a question popped," what will be the next big thing after "Facebook"? I think it will be Social Unnetworking Site (there is a new word "unnetworking") Yeah it will be about deleting the unwanted people who are following you with just a click of a button. Just gone..they will be wiped of from all your network and internet forever. It will give a sense of relief to the ex internet lovers with webcams. We can also have a person banned from using internet for ever. Its like a life sentence if you make an online fraud or any kind of cyber crime. The judge will say "We find you guilty and you will be serving 7 years disconnection". Oh Man that's a nightmare.

Next big thing is the Human Touch. We will create physical networking places in different cities. This will a huge place with different section like Royal Enfield Group, Gay group, Rubber Chicken group, Gambler's group, Coffee group and so on. People with similar taste and ideas will meet physically and exchange views, talk and may be even fall in love or punch each other. Physical its so much fun. Along with all that you can have the entertainment, music, drinks, food and a lot more. The best advantage will be it will be monitored. Not like internet where you can do everything hiding behind the screen.

So nyways, I got the money and I gotta video shoot 9 people in 2 days. Murphy please leave me alone!

Long time no Sea :)

Yup, I came back from the heavenly Maldives in May of 2009 and since then freelancing...but not for free. For the past one and half years, I wrote and finished 6 feature film scripts. Couple of them in English and four of them in Hindi. Fortunately two of them are in pre-production.

I always knew I was a good story teller, but writing lazed me up most of the time. But recently I have been writing non stop, without any blocks and finishing the first draft of the script in no time. It is the rewrites I hate, but you can't be a good script writer if you hate rewrites and more rewrites. So yes I am in the process of making significant changes through rewrites and more rewrites...until it looks purrfect.

Hoping that the last script I wrote goes into production in October (the process is almost done) K K is the lead...I am glad we have him and not...alright no names...

Alright this sucks...where is my sense of humor....scratch...rewrites and more rewrites.

AM BACK!

I can't believe its 3 months that I have not posted in my blog, umm better late than never. Anyways I had been traveling a lot these days and also working so two good reasons for not posting in my blog.

Right now I am in Maldives and tell you it is the most beautiful place on the earth. A little heaven with untouched exotic beaches and natural beauty that your eyes can't absorb in one look. There are so many tiny islands that it will take 3 years to visit all of them if you stay a day in each of the islands.

The water is green in some places and dark blue in some. I thought after living in Mumbai for so many years that sea water was always black and other countries use some filters on their cameras to make their sea look blue so that they can attract more tourists. Not to be.. its real.. the water is green and blue. The truth is..the water is green in colour and it looks green when there is less depth and blue where it is deep.

well I ll soon post more photographs about this exotic place..

Adios

Crapolla!!!

There is a great news which will be revealed in the later edition of my post, but for now lets start with the basic crap. Lesson learned last month "Ignorance is bliss", the more you ignore people...more they want you.

So I was watching an English movie dubbed in Hindi yesterday and it is really funny the way they dub it. I mean some of the sentences doesn't make sense in Hindi or should I say the translators are really crappy.

Sentences include :-

Chalo chodo... aap batao aap kaha gaye the matha phodi karne!!!! (There is no 'AAP' or 'TUM' in english.. its 'YOU' and it sounds like 'TU')

Main dikhta gareeb hu par khana acha banata hu!!! (Abe if you are gareeb toh Khana banane ke paise kaha se aya and what is the connection between looking poor and cooking well. I guess this is the exact dialogue which RAMU used to get a cooks job in hindi movies, Ramu is the most commonly used name for a servant in Bollywood movies.)

well if you see an English movie with subtitles it is much more fun especially when they swear.

ASS HOLE - Kutte ka bacha

FUCK YOU - Suvar ka bacha

SCREW YOU - Haati ka bacha

GAY - Sumlaingic (I know...this is the actual word)

NASTY - Kamini

BITCH - Salle Kutte (Why the poor salla is always included, I have no clue)

PENIS - Ling

VAGINA - Stri ling (HA HA HA)

Well this is the funniest English video with Hindi Subtitles by WILL FERRELL, Worth every bit of your time

THE LANDLORD

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

Its not so easy to shoot with a kid and you can see they worked really hard and its certainly worth the amazing outcome.

THE OUT TAKES

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

And if this is not funny enough for you then I guess you should see the Bhojpuri version of SPIDERMAN 3

Spider man Spider man
Dostva padousi Spiderman
Jale mein uchalat sab jagah
khopadi utha ke dekho jarah

blah blah blah.

Somalia’s runners provide inspiration (their life is an Olympic event, and they Win everyday)

By Charles Robinson, Yahoo! Sports

BEIJING – Samia Yusuf Omar headed back to Somalia Sunday, returning to the small two-room house in Mogadishu shared by seven family members. Her mother lives there, selling fruits and vegetables. Her father is buried there, the victim of a wayward artillery shell that hit their home and also killed Samia’s aunt and uncle.

This is the Olympic story we never heard.

It’s about a girl whose Beijing moment lasted a mere 32 seconds – the slowest 200-meter dash time out of the 46 women who competed in the event. Thirty-two seconds that almost nobody saw but that she carries home with her, swelled with joy and wonderment. Back to a decades-long civil war that has flattened much of her city. Back to an Olympic program with few Olympians and no facilities. Back to meals of flat bread, wheat porridge and tap water.

“I have my pride,” she said through a translator before leaving China. “This is the highest thing any athlete can hope for. It has been a very happy experience for me. I am proud to bring the Somali flag to fly with all of these countries, and to stand with the best athletes in the world.”

There are many life stories that collide in each Olympics – many intriguing tales of glory and tragedy. Beijing delivered the electricity of Usain Bolt and the determination of Michael Phelps. It left hearts heavy with the disappointment of Liu Xiang and the heartache of Hugh McCutcheon.

But it also gave us Samia Yusuf Omar – one small girl from one chaotic country – and a story that might have gone unnoticed if it hadn’t been for a roaring half-empty stadium.

***

It was Aug. 19, and the tiny girl had crossed over seven lanes to find her starting block in her 200-meter heat. She walked past Jamaica’s Veronica Campbell-Brown – the eventual gold medalist in the event. Samia had read about Campbell-Brown in track and field magazines and once watched her in wonderment on television. As a cameraman panned down the starting blocks, it settled on lane No. 2, on a 17-year old girl with the frame of a Kenyan distance runner. Samia’s biography in the Olympic media system contained almost no information, other than her 5-foot-4, 119-pound frame. There was no mention of her personal best times and nothing on previous track meets. Somalia, it was later explained, has a hard time organizing the records of its athletes.

She looked so odd and out of place among her competitors, with her white headband and a baggy, untucked T-shirt. The legs on her wiry frame were thin and spindly, and her arms poked out of her sleeves like the twigs of a sapling. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt and shot an occasional nervous glance at the other runners in her heat. Each had muscles bulging from beneath their skin-tight track suits. Many outweighed Samia by nearly 40 pounds.

After introductions, she knelt into her starting block.

***

The country of Somalia sent two athletes to the Beijing Games – Samia and distance runner Abdi Said Ibrahim, who competed in the men’s 5,000-meter event. Like Samia, Abdi finished last in his event, overmatched by competitors who were groomed for their Olympic moment. Somalia has only loose-knit programs supporting its Olympians, few coaches, and few facilities. With a civil war tearing the city apart since the Somali government’s collapse in 1991, Mogadishu Stadium has become one of the bloodiest pieces of real estate in the city – housing U.N. forces in the early 1990s and now a military compound for insurgents.

That has left the country’s track athletes to train in Coni Stadium, an artillery-pocked structure built in 1958 which has no track, endless divots, and has been overtaken by weeds and plants.

“Sports are not a priority for Somalia,” said Duran Farah, vice president of the Somali Olympic Committee. “There is no money for facilities or training. The war, the security, the difficulties with food and everything – there are just many other internal difficulties to deal with.”

That leaves athletes such as Samia and 18-year old Abdi without the normal comforts and structure enjoyed by almost every other athlete in the Olympic Games. They don’t receive consistent coaching, don’t compete in meets on a regular basis and struggle to find safety in something as simple as going out for a daily run.

When Samia cannot make it to the stadium, she runs in the streets, where she runs into roadblocks of burning tires and refuse set out by insurgents. She is often bullied and threatened by militia or locals who believe that Muslim women should not take part in sports. In hopes of lessening the abuse, she runs in the oppressive heat wearing long sleeves, sweat pants and a head scarf. Even then, she is told her place should be in the home – not participating in sports.

“For some men, nothing is good enough,” Farah said.

Even Abdi faces constant difficulties, passing through military checkpoints where he is shaken down for money. And when he has competed in sanctioned track events, gun-toting insurgents have threatened his life for what they viewed as compliance with the interim government.

“Once, the insurgents were very unhappy,” he said. “When we went back home, my friends and I were rounded up and we were told if we did it again, we would get killed. Some of my friends stopped being in sports. I had many phone calls threatening me, that if I didn’t stop running, I would get killed. Lately, I do not have these problems. I think probably they realized we just wanted to be athletes and were not involved with the government.”

But the interim government has not been able to offer support, instead spending its cash and energy arming Ethiopian allies for the fight against insurgents. Other than organizing a meet to compete for Olympic selection – in which the Somali Olympic federation chose whom it believed to be its two best performers – there has been little lavished on athletes. While other countries pour millions into the training and perfecting of their Olympic stars, Somalia offers little guidance and no doctors, not even a stipend for food.

“The food is not something that is measured and given to us every day,” Samia said. “We eat whatever we can get.”

On the best days, that means getting protein from a small portion of fish, camel or goat meat, and carbohydrates from bananas or citrus fruits growing in local trees. On the worst days – and there are long stretches of those – it means surviving on water and Angera, a flat bread made from a mixture of wheat and barley.

“There is no grocery store,” Abdi said. “We can’t go shopping for whatever we want.”

He laughs at this thought, with a smile that is missing a front tooth.

***

When the gun went off in Samia’s 200-meter heat, seven women blasted from their starting blocks, registering as little as 16 one-hundredths of a second of reaction time. Samia’s start was slow enough that the computer didn’t read it, leaving her reaction time blank on the heat’s statistical printout.

Within seconds, seven competitors were thundering around the curve in Beijing’s Bird’s Nest, struggling to separate themselves from one another. Samia was just entering the curve when her opponents were nearing the finish line. A local television feed had lost her entirely by the time Veronica Campbell-Brown crossed the finish line in a trotting 23.04 seconds.

As the athletes came to a halt and knelt, stretching and sucking deep breaths, a camera moved to ground level. In the background of the picture, a white dot wearing a headband could be seen coming down the stretch.

***

Until this month, Samia had been to two countries outside of her own – Djibouti and Ethiopia. Asked how she will describe Beijing, her eyes get big and she snickers from under a blue and white Olympic baseball cap.

“The stadiums, I never thought something like this existed in the world,” she said. “The buildings in the city, it was all very surprising. It will probably take days to finish all the stories we have to tell.”

Asked about Beijing’s otherworldly Water Cube, she lets out a sigh: “Ahhhhhhh.”

Before she can answer, Abdi cuts her off.

“I didn’t know what it was when I saw it,” he said. “Is it plastic? Is it magic?”

Few buildings are beyond two or three stories tall in Mogadishu, and those still standing are mostly in tatters. Only pictures will be able to describe some of Beijing’s structures, from the ancient architecture of the Forbidden City to the modernity of the Water Cube and the Bird’s Nest.

“The Olympic fire in the stadium, everywhere I am, it is always up there,” Samia said. “It’s like the moon. I look up wherever I go, it is there.”

These are the stories they will relish when they return to Somalia, which they believe has, for one brief moment, united the country’s warring tribes. Farah said he had received calls from countrymen all over the world, asking how their two athletes were doing and what they had experienced in China. On the morning of Samia’s race, it was just after 5 a.m., and locals from her neighborhood were scrambling to find a television with a broadcast.

“People stayed awake to see it,” Farah said. “The good thing, sports is the one thing which unites all of Somalia.”

That is one of the common threads they share with every athlete at the Games. Just being an Olympian and carrying the country’s flag brings an immense sense of pride to families and neighborhoods which typically know only despair.

A pride that Samia will share with her mother, three brothers and three sisters. A pride that Abdi will carry home to his father, two brothers and two sisters. Like Samia’s father two years ago, Abdi’s mother was killed in the civil war, by a mortar shell that hit the family’s home in 1993.

“We are very proud,” Samia said. “Because of us, the Somali flag is raised among all the other nations’ flags. You can’t imagine how proud we were when we were marching in the Opening Ceremonies with the flag.

“Despite the difficulties and everything we’ve had with our country, we feel great pride in our accomplishment.”

***

As Samia came down the stretch in her 200-meter heat, she realized that the Somalian Olympic federation had chosen to place her in the wrong event. The 200 wasn’t nearly the best event for a middle distance runner. But the federation believed the dash would serve as a “good experience” for her. Now she was coming down the stretch alone, pumping her arms and tilting her head to the side with a look of despair.

Suddenly, the half-empty stadium realized there was still a runner on the track, still pushing to get across the finish line almost eight seconds behind the seven women who had already completed the race. In the last 50 meters, much of the stadium rose to its feet, flooding the track below with cheers of encouragement. A few competitors who had left Samia behind turned and watched it unfold.

As Samia crossed the line in 32.16 seconds, the crowd roared in applause. Bahamian runner Sheniqua Ferguson, the next smallest woman on the track at 5-foot-7 and 130 pounds, looked at the girl crossing the finish and thought to herself, “Wow, she’s tiny.”

“She must love running,” Ferguson said later.

***

Several days later, Samia waved off her Olympic moment as being inspirational. While she was still filled with joy over her chance to compete, and though she knew she had done all she could, part of her seemed embarrassed that the crowd had risen to its feet to help push her across the finish line.

“I was happy the people were cheering and encouraging me,” she said. “But I would have liked to be cheered because I won, not because I needed encouragement. It is something I will work on. I will try my best not to be the last person next time. It was very nice for people to give me that encouragement, but I would prefer the winning cheer.

She shrugged and smiled.

“I knew it was an uphill task.”

And there it was. While the Olympics are often promoted for the fastest and strongest and most agile champions, there is something to be said for the ones who finish out of the limelight. The ones who finish last and leave with their pride.

At their best, the Olympics still signify competition and purity, a love for sport. What represents that better than two athletes who carry their country’s flag into the Games despite their country’s inability to carry them before that moment? What better way to find the best of the Olympic spirit than by looking at those who endure so much that would break it?

“We know that we are different from the other athletes,” Samia said. “But we don’t want to show it. We try our best to look like all the rest. We understand we are not anywhere near the level of the other competitors here. We understand that very, very well. But more than anything else, we would like to show the dignity of ourselves and our country.”

She smiles when she says this, sitting a stone’s throw from a Somalian flag that she and her countryman Abdi brought to these Games. They came and went from Beijing largely unnoticed, but may have been the most dignified example these Olympics could offer.

Break Time!!!

Writer's block was a term which I thought was too over rated. I mean when writers want to take a break and laze around or just don't want to write they use the term Writer's block to get away from the routine. I mean they invented this word for this sole purpose. So I was scribbling for 8 days straight for a script which I have to deliver next month and I needed a break. Lets just say I was plain bored and needed to recharge my mind for better ideas instead of the same commercial hindi movie story. (Not like I am not having fun with two losers who are going to die soon, one from heart attack in couple of years and other a stinking disgusting diabetic death, but thats a different story) The producer says " It has to be a commercial family entertainer, but it should be different". It should have comedy, emotions, drama, a little bit of fight etc. Now I am thinking where to fit this word "Different" in the producer's realistic idea of story development for commercial family entertainer, but that works in Bollywood and it brings in the money so who cares.

So today I decided to take a break and relax and completely block my mind from any thoughts of commercial family entertainer. Day started at 8 am with my workout and then a nice 'sakina ka chai'. At 10 am I was ready to do nothing and my phone rang.

Me - Hello

PP - Hi, Good morning

Me- Wats up

PP - Are you free today?

Me - Yeah

PP - You want to go to Haji Ali

Me - ok When

PP - Afternoon

Me - ok

I had lived in Mumbai all my life and had been to Haji ali only ones that was last year with PP. After I went there some questions popped into my head.

Who is Peer Haji Ali?

Who made this Dargah?

Why did he built it in the sea?

So I decided to google it when I reach home. I like old temples, dargah, churches etc. So back to googling Peer Haji Ali and his Dargah.

History of Saint : Haji Ali is believed to have been a wealthy local businessman who renounced his riches after a pilgrimage to Mecca. He is believed to have drowned and died at the place where the dargah today stands. An alternative version says that Haji Ali died during his pilgrimage to Mecca in the early 19th century. His casket floated back and came to a rest near the rockbed on the sea at Mumbai, where his devotees built the dargah. The Masjid is picturesque with a vast courtyard & refreshment stalls. It contains the tomb of the Muslim saint Haji Ali. His devotees built the mosque and the tomb in the early 19th century.

About the Saint : The saint came to India with the permission of his mother with his brother and finally reached the Shores of Bombay - near Worli or at some place opposite the present tomb. His brother went to their native place. Pir Haji Ali Shah Bukhari {R.A} sent a letter with him to their mother informing her that he was keeping good health and that he had decided to reside at that place permanently for spreading Islam and that she should forgive him. Till his death he was praying and giving knowledge about Islam to the people and devotees regularly visiting him.

Haji Ali is a handsome example of Islamic architecture standing on an island. In fact, this holy place is visited by many devotees as well as visitors who are attracted by the beauty of the site. The widespread belief is that whoever prays to the deity here is never disappointed. A number of pilgrims come here for thanksgiving. Pir Haji Ali's Shahs sister also followed her brother's footsteps and became his companion in ascetic suffering. There is a mausoleum built for her a little distance away on Worli Bay.

History of Dargah : This monument has been sentinel to the shores of Bombay since a long time. 500 yards into the sea from the shore. The dargah was built by Haji Usman Rangikar, the man who owned the ship that took pilgrims to Mecca.

The road leading to Dargah from Lala Lajpat Rai Rd up to the gate of Haji Ali Dargah Complex was constructed in 1944, The building called Kawwal khanna, Ladies rest shade, Laterine and the Bldg for resident presently called Mashriqui and Maghribi manzil and the gate of Dargah Complex was constructed in between 1948 and 1982.

The Dargah and Mosque was reconstructed, remodeled and renovated between 1960 and 1964. The new sanatorium building was constructed by demolishing the old ground floor structure for sanitarium between 1978 and 1982. Widening and increasing the height in between 1984 and 1990 reconstructed the road leading to Dargah from Lala Lajpat Rai Marg to the gate of Haji Ali Dargah complex.

The Kinara masjid was also developed and reconstructed from time to time on the space available since last 300 years.

So now we know... atleast I know.

Nickelback Savin' Me & Rockstar - Mah Favorite

Doobie Doobie Doooo!!!

So today is Independence Day and the thought that comes to my mind is when we got it, we were clueless. Our reaction was "Oh shit, we are Independent now.. what next"? Anyways we didn't know what to do and after 61 years of sudden Independence we still don't know what to do, except for few people who are really trying their best to uplift our image.

And there are few losers who have no clue how to uplift themselves and spend most of their time on being anonymous and posting comments on people's blog. Most of these people have a very similar low life, have a wife who they marry for money and then fabricate a scheme of not liking her for stupid reasons and by mistake pass on a sperm or two after they decide to get separated and that is what I call backup plan or Plan B. Plan B - I can't live with you, but I need the money so I accidentally (err) make you pregnant, so that I can get more money out of your purse "honey". The separation story goes on around the bush to get fresh meat on the bed of course and some dumb, married and not so dumb girls fall for it.

Dumb - Because they are dumb Duh!

Married - well friend's wife is the best bet.

Not so Dumb Girls - Oh well they just like the attention, money and a car seat under their sweet little backside.

So as my soap goes further it reveals that the man(what should I call him.. lets say 'Doobie') has a company started off with 3 partners and then reduced to two. The other being a best friend is not always a good choice when the "not so dumb girl" hates him. So Doobie kicks him out and the other stupid people in the office don't realize that he can drill a hole in their backside as well, if he can do the same to his very old best friend. The conclusion.. they won't learn because they like to kiss the Doobie ass. There were only few people (Extremists) who made Doobie cry and they raise their head high always forever. Oh btw even the 'Not so Dumb Chick' also makes him cry so I guess it was not a very great feat.

Exact words

In a meeting (A routine everyday with no outcome)

Doobie and his Pet (stained teeth) "These two people will never get their money from this office"

After a month they had to give them the money - Victory for the Extremists

Doobie (in front of our friends) "You can kill me but I will not give his money" almost started crying - Victory for the extremists

The extremists didn't wanted to waste time on a shit like Doobie so they went on with their lives and doing pretty well for themselves. The part money which Doobie didn't give was the only profit his company made till now. He might have given it as a deposit for the "not so dumb chicks" rented apartment or might take some diabetic pills for himself. I like Sancha Ice cream and heard the apartment opposite Sancha Ice Cream shop has a deposit of one Lakh and Rs. 20k rent, Oh nah lets try for 15 k.

So now this loser Doobie doobie do is, search the extremist on the net, drink some sugarless coffee and write anonymous sentences which are truly wastage of words or may be its the Stained Teeth.. Who cares. Amazing story but Ekta kapoor rejected this because it is not a woman oriented soap though I said I have a "not so dumb Chick"!!! and we can show some harmonic Imbalance on Doobie and grow some breast on him (though I don't think it is needed, he was born with man breasts). Then we can have cat fight of Doobie and "not so dumb Chick".

So anyways I had 5 minutes to write and I can't waste any more time on Doobie now.

Culture Shock

Today I was sitting as usual, staring at the computer screen and thinking. I realised that how thinking has become an integral part of my life. All I do is think, and think sincerely of all the absolute nonsense in this world and through these nonsense comes some unusually stupid ideas for creating concepts which might turn into some kinda movie or TV show. I know there is nothing better than nonsense in Indian television right now anyways. If you are assuming that thinking nonsense is easy, then you should try and you will go crazy when all the nonsense turn into some kinda sense and all of a sudden you realise that it is a part of your senseless life which was a nonsense in the first place.

What If my name was Jignesh, imagine the life I would be leading at this moment. Instead of typing here, I would be counting money in some shop which my dad owns, wearing colorful shirts and flashing a Pulser to woo all the girls living in my colony in my free time which is after 10 pm when the shop closes, or I would be still completing my CA and working for a firm trying desperately to finally finish it this year. Imagine if my name was Harbhajan Nair, how would I be? My mom would be Punjabi, my dad would be from Kerala, I would be a joke everyday and a culture shock for rest of the people who don't get the joke.

When I was leaving for Toronto, Canada, I was told that you will get a lot of culture shock as you don't know their culture and stuff. I went their and started speaking in their accent(Thanks to HBO and Star Movies) and they were in all kind of shocks. When I told them that I am from India, their reaction changed from :-

Indian - They ride the elephants and eat monkeys (Courtesy Indiana Jones) and of course our family business was riding bullock cart, they came here and learned driving cabs. That is all we do, we shift, migrate and travel our whole life on bullock carts. Oh yeah we also dance a lot in every occasion like wedding, engagement, birth, death, riding bullock cart, peeing, while labor pains, when diagnosed with cancer or Aids, bungee jumping, or when just plain unconscious.

To

Indian - They speak better English then us and they wear clothes!!!

So anyways I was talking to a very good friend of mine about relationship and stuff. She is my favorite friend and I call her Pani Puri. We were walking and our focus went to this flower shop with new bouquets arranged exotically.

PP - I like those big petal flowers.

Me - Whats the use, it looks better on the plant then being ripped off their glory.

PP- Yeah but people have money, no time and always in rush so...

Me - So they can gift the whole plant with the flower and the kundi (Pot)

PP - When I buy my house I will have a small garden in my balcony with all beautiful plants.

We were passing by the Mandir and there was a flower shop there (gonde ke phool wala)

Me - I will get those mala if I have a girl friend on valentines day. Then take her for a cutting chai and then to a dhaba for dinner.

PP - How romantic that will be?

Me - No Instead I will take a Cauliflower. That will be flower and dinner and if she wants some chocolate then I can sprinkle some chocolate chips on the cauliflower just for that magic touch.

PP - She will leave you forever.

Me - If she doesn't then she truly loves me for who I am.

How dumb I am, I wish God had made a woman who can fall for the cauliflower trick. Nothing else but it will be easy on my pocket.

Adios

DUST

Let me start by thanking Doleful Doledrums for inspiring me to write again. I started this blog long back but then as the lazy bum I am... I didn't care much about it. I scribbled few things here before but then I deleted them all to start of fresh. So humble thanks to ADs for making my lazy butt jiggle with energy to write in this space, hogged by me for like almost a year. And and and I also congratulate myself for starting again.

Anyways I like dust. Not like I am sexually attracted to it or anything but I guess the fact that I am lazy contributes to the fact that I LIKE DUST. So everything was planned out today for doing nothing. I started off with having the precious overcharged Sakina Dairy Tea (charges 5 bucks for few drops) and a cigarette which is my daily requirement for ultimate pleasure and pressure. Came back home, did the morning ritual and sat on the computer doing nothing. I had planned to wash my clothes today in the evening after a month but my washing machine wanted a wash itself. So it was raining heavily and the weather got very romantic and when it gets romantic I prefer to take a nap.

I didn't clean my house for few weeks now. I can see web on the ceiling and hair on my white tiles. If you are buying a new house never opt for white tiles cuz you will always feel your house is dirty as even a minute microscopic black bacteria will get noticed. Same goes with black color tiles but then according to my experience dust and bacteria are mostly black.

So I am a lazy man and I love it. May be that is exactly why dust have a liking towards me. Ok watching American Pie and writing this blog is not easy especially when you are explaining the movie to your friend. But I love to multitask.

So I like dust because I am lazy and hate to clean my room. So what are my excuses?

I have dust allergies so its better they stay where they are. If I try to clean they will be all scattered

Dust is my pet.

Poor dust are hated by everybody and cleaned out by every house. I can't be this inhuman towards those tiny little things. where would they go.. where where where!!!

So I was having a little romantic nap and was having sex with something I don't even know, it was a blurred out dream and suddenly something bit me on my thigh. I woke up instantly and checked to see this red ant having a bite of me. He got a finger kick from me but then my eyes goes to this trail of massive army of red ants on my bed planning to eat me up. Thats it, my rage took over me and the whole bed Sheet flew on air (Imagine from the ants perspective.. so much fun) (My Perspective the sheet came and fell back on my head) Anyways removed the bed and kicked on it so that all the ants just get imbalance and fall on the floor. No but no..my bed is infested by ants and spiders. Non one.. or two a whole fleet of little young spiders. I suddenly realised I hate dust. I kicked and kicked the bed until my leg gave up. Then I got the weapon of destruction.. the broom and started cleaning my living room. Well I have a kitchen and a living room. The only thing I clean regularly is my bathroom. So the lazy ass I am only the living room will be cleaned. I swept the whole living room and felt good about it but bad for the dust, though I still love them but blame it on the invasion of the species on my bed.

It was time to wash my clothes. When I first bought the washing machine it took a while for me to understand the complexities of washing the clothes and the fact that it came without a manual didn't help much. In Toronto we used laundramart for washing clothes every 15 days which would cost like 3 bucks (120 rupees).. not bad at all, but they were huge and they use to have this lint tray which I was trying to find out in my present washing machine.. but failed miserably.. I don't think it has one. I had a set of 20 underwears and when I have 5 unwashed underwear left.. that is time to wash my clothes.

Ok as the lazy God I didn't clean my kitchen but the real GOD had some other plans for me. I hitched the pipes to the washing machine and started the taps. I came back to the computer and something happened. The pipe got loose and the whole kitchen was overflowing with water. Ok so I have to clean the kitchen now. Sorry dust buddies I couldn't do anything with this situation..you guys are already wet and half of you are floating in the drain under my basin so.. I guess the left over dust will have to give them company..can't let their friends and relatives miss them. So I cleaned the whole kitchen area and almost dead tired.

I thought of going out and having something to eat and have a smoke. I took the money and my phone.. walked out and banged the door only to realise that gosh I had left my keys inside for the 543345th time. So here I am with no keys to get inside my house with only few bucks in my pocket and its raining outside. So I asked the security for the spare keys which he said he doesn't have. so anyways my building is half constructed so the flats besides my apartment is still under construction. There is this little boy who works there and he knows me well cuz I gave him a brand new carom board which was gifted to me as I don't play it anymore. He said he will try it from my balcony if the glass door is open. The door was open but I said its 2nd floor and I didn't want him to take the risk..what if he falls.. nooo. He said he does it all the time..but he said he needs a magnet so that he can stick it to the plastic pipe used for electric wires and then put it through my window on to my table and get the key out. I said I have a magnet on my phone holder and he can use it. He climbed on to my balcony from the under constructed apartment and got my keys in a minute. I was so glad to see my keys and gave him the extra keys to give it to the security and paid him some money for his gesture. He has this sweet smile always on his face.

So I came back and washed the clothes.. and pretty tired now. I think we all blabber a lot about being independent and living alone in the big city. I had been doing that for 8 long years now. When we are new to this living alone business we think its great and we learn a lot.. about how to take care of ourselves, responsibilities, no one to advice, no one to keep an eye on you, drink smoke and have sex at will, day dream, be lonely, wash clothes, clean house, pay all the bills yourself, make mistake, walk naked in the house, admire our nakedness in front of the mirror, dance naked, and imagine the chick in the office naked. But this independence brings a responsibility of cleaning the house if you cant have a maid. And thats when I don't like to be independent. MOM I MISS YOU sob sob :(