Every morning I wake up feeling anything but awesome,
The next thing I know is that I am brushing my teeth with cherry blossom.
Thinking about the wittiest of girls seems to be a time waste,
On some days I even brush my non existent hair with a toothbrush with a paste.
As I said, every girl seems uninteresting - from a Virgo to a Leo
On days I even wash the contact lenses on my eyes with my smelly deo.
I was waiting for it so anxiously that it has messed up the movement of my bowel,
I have begun to dry my body with a napkin and for my hands I use a towel.
In the garden, I stare at dancing fountains surrounded by oblique violets,
And then I emulate the pattern of fountains except when I am in public toilets.
Once a Bunty pehelwaan, now even the sight of stairs leaves me bed stricken,
Everything seems tasteless – be it barf ka gola, paani puri or Saoji’s chicken.
Every single minute I am occupied with just a single thought to think,
Even my work-out sessions have started to work in - causing my muscles to shrink.
Seems like I am leading a lonely life borrowed on a heavy lease,
Nothing gives a high – not even tormenting people whom I simply loved to tease.
Turbulent times these when thoughts appear like a murky poem and not in prose,
It’s wise to end it here before you freak out with my imagination’s overdose.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Saoji
Welcome to Saoji Bhojanalayas - the innumerable places dotting Nagpur offering the spiciest varieties of non vegetarian food.
A typical Saoji Bhojnalaya is kind of spooky. It is dim. It is dark. It is not just an eatery. It is a cult. You have to feel about it from within.Enter and you’ll figure out that all rules – written, heard or experienced- of the food industry are tattered down to nothing. The first person you’d encounter in SB will be an accountant. He’ll have photos of all the major gods, stocks of cigarettes, tobacco/gutkha pudyaa (pouches). Nobody would ask you the obvious Gabbar like question asked elsewhere in the world – “Kitne aadmi hai?” You are supposed to be sane enough to find a place for yourself. You can even end up being the sixth person on a table of six already occupied by five. One of the only two waiters serving a crowd of about forty odd people will arrive next to you and expect you to order. He won’t give you a menu card. There won’t be a rate board either. Remember, if you are there, you are supposed to be wise. There isn’t much to choose from. You had the choice before entering the place. Not anymore. There are three to four varieties – chicken, mutton, keema, kaleji and two subvarieties – dry and rassa (gravely called gravy).
It is so dark that every dish coming out of that stained curtain appears to be for you. You order and – no you don’t have to wait – he brings it to you fataafat! He bangs them in front of a group and you hear them shout any of the following:
“Haaa… Isko bolte saoji!”
“Ek number re baawa!”
“Aisa!”
This is followed by hesitation and a courteous invitation to co-eaters – “Lo jamao”.
The series of pointless talking is taken over by shameless eating followed by endless sweating. The custom is as inexplicable as your presence in the place.
If you are a first timer – a sincere advice is to venture out alone.
If you hate yourself and want to explore feelings like remorse and shame then plead a group of experts to let you join them and they’ll be happy to oblige. In a group of experts, first timers are inevitably laughed at their lack of preparation. If you are without a handkerchief, you try to get over the dragon-like-fire in your mouth by doing everything humane. You shift in your seat, eat papad, eat only roti, squeeze lemon in your mouth, eat onion and drink lots of water. The water seems to be finishing every minute and you feel like tearing off your clothes and screaming. Through your teary ears, you see yourself running out of options and gaalis and you too feel like running out of the damned place. The teary eyes and sweaty body gives you the feeling of a sprinkler.
Amidst difficult to explain breathing routine (issssss haaa issssss haaaaaaaa), you join others in laughing at yourself – swearing within twice – first swearing at the food and your friends and then swearing never to come at that place ever again.
“Rassa?” the waiter arrives with a mug of absolutely free gravy and asks the group. The devilish round of laughter comes back and it’s your plate everyone wants that mug to be poured in.
“Isko do,” you hear one of them say amidst muffled laughter.
The last bit you ate 5 minutes ago was so spicy that you can’t manage to utter a no. So you put your hand over the plate to avoid the serving. And the waiter showcases his hidden courtesy.
“Lo na saab,” he teasingly orders and you think it is death that he is offering through that gravy.
“Nahi chaahiye bol diya na!” you spit fire and friends howl at you – “Khaana nahi hota to uspe kyu gussa nikaalta hai?”
Anyways, it is not as bad as I have made it to be.
I have heard that connoisseurs gulp down two plates of rassa for soup before starting main course. Saoji food seemingly has priceless medicinal worth. It improves your digestive system and gets rid of cold. But asking for vegetarian food at SB is like entering a Mercedes showroom and asking for a loose tyre for your child to run around with on the streets.
What is it that draws a Nagpurian to any of these places dotting the city? This is one of the many questions which are neither asked nor answered. Who is this Saoji? Who started this madness? Is it a brand? Is it a chain of restaurants? There are no answers.
But there is something about Saoji.
Make the leads of Ghajini (Hindi and Tamil) and Memento eat Saoji together and I guarantee that even with their "What is wrong with me/what did I just think?" mishap they will not forget the taste for the next two to three days. Also their superb muscles will be put to some fruitful use, especially in the mornings!
A typical Saoji Bhojnalaya is kind of spooky. It is dim. It is dark. It is not just an eatery. It is a cult. You have to feel about it from within.Enter and you’ll figure out that all rules – written, heard or experienced- of the food industry are tattered down to nothing. The first person you’d encounter in SB will be an accountant. He’ll have photos of all the major gods, stocks of cigarettes, tobacco/gutkha pudyaa (pouches). Nobody would ask you the obvious Gabbar like question asked elsewhere in the world – “Kitne aadmi hai?” You are supposed to be sane enough to find a place for yourself. You can even end up being the sixth person on a table of six already occupied by five. One of the only two waiters serving a crowd of about forty odd people will arrive next to you and expect you to order. He won’t give you a menu card. There won’t be a rate board either. Remember, if you are there, you are supposed to be wise. There isn’t much to choose from. You had the choice before entering the place. Not anymore. There are three to four varieties – chicken, mutton, keema, kaleji and two subvarieties – dry and rassa (gravely called gravy).
It is so dark that every dish coming out of that stained curtain appears to be for you. You order and – no you don’t have to wait – he brings it to you fataafat! He bangs them in front of a group and you hear them shout any of the following:
“Haaa… Isko bolte saoji!”
“Ek number re baawa!”
“Aisa!”
This is followed by hesitation and a courteous invitation to co-eaters – “Lo jamao”.
The series of pointless talking is taken over by shameless eating followed by endless sweating. The custom is as inexplicable as your presence in the place.
If you are a first timer – a sincere advice is to venture out alone.
If you hate yourself and want to explore feelings like remorse and shame then plead a group of experts to let you join them and they’ll be happy to oblige. In a group of experts, first timers are inevitably laughed at their lack of preparation. If you are without a handkerchief, you try to get over the dragon-like-fire in your mouth by doing everything humane. You shift in your seat, eat papad, eat only roti, squeeze lemon in your mouth, eat onion and drink lots of water. The water seems to be finishing every minute and you feel like tearing off your clothes and screaming. Through your teary ears, you see yourself running out of options and gaalis and you too feel like running out of the damned place. The teary eyes and sweaty body gives you the feeling of a sprinkler.
Amidst difficult to explain breathing routine (issssss haaa issssss haaaaaaaa), you join others in laughing at yourself – swearing within twice – first swearing at the food and your friends and then swearing never to come at that place ever again.
“Rassa?” the waiter arrives with a mug of absolutely free gravy and asks the group. The devilish round of laughter comes back and it’s your plate everyone wants that mug to be poured in.
“Isko do,” you hear one of them say amidst muffled laughter.
The last bit you ate 5 minutes ago was so spicy that you can’t manage to utter a no. So you put your hand over the plate to avoid the serving. And the waiter showcases his hidden courtesy.
“Lo na saab,” he teasingly orders and you think it is death that he is offering through that gravy.
“Nahi chaahiye bol diya na!” you spit fire and friends howl at you – “Khaana nahi hota to uspe kyu gussa nikaalta hai?”
Anyways, it is not as bad as I have made it to be.
I have heard that connoisseurs gulp down two plates of rassa for soup before starting main course. Saoji food seemingly has priceless medicinal worth. It improves your digestive system and gets rid of cold. But asking for vegetarian food at SB is like entering a Mercedes showroom and asking for a loose tyre for your child to run around with on the streets.
What is it that draws a Nagpurian to any of these places dotting the city? This is one of the many questions which are neither asked nor answered. Who is this Saoji? Who started this madness? Is it a brand? Is it a chain of restaurants? There are no answers.
But there is something about Saoji.
Make the leads of Ghajini (Hindi and Tamil) and Memento eat Saoji together and I guarantee that even with their "What is wrong with me/what did I just think?" mishap they will not forget the taste for the next two to three days. Also their superb muscles will be put to some fruitful use, especially in the mornings!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Admission Interview Indore
(Disclaimer: This post is purely a work of imagination. Questions are genuine. The answers should not be given under any circumstances - not even under adult supervision.)
Right guy : R, Left guy: L
L: Give me your certificates file.
Me: Here. Take it. Handle with care. Don’t steal any of the certificates.
R: So your name is Pushkar?
Me: No. It’s my brother’s name.
R: And _____ is your father’s name?
Me: Yes and xxxxx is my last name.
R: It’s your family name, right?
Me: No it’s my last name.
R: So what did you do in VNIT?
Me: I played cricket. I used to have lunch. I liked the Maggie bhel in the canteen. I also checked out a few girls. By the time I passed out, I realized that I had completed Electrical Engineering.
R: When did you clear your engineering?
Me: Ask L. He has the certificates. His confused looks give me a feeling that he won’t be able to figure out the year. It’s 2006.
R: What have you done since then?
Me: Ask me, what have I not done?
R: What have you not done?
Me: OK I’ll tell you what I have done. I took up a job. I sucked at it. To be frank I couldn’t figure out why I was being paid for. I had free net access for around 10 months. Not that they charged me after that. I left the job since I couldn’t take the jargon anymore. After that I took up CA. I have been doing Complete Aaram since then.
R: You completed Electrical Engineering. Do you remember anything?
Me: No. But I know you’ll still ask.
R: What is this subject ‘Network theorems’ about?
Me: Some network theorems they taught us. Kirchoff, Thevenin, Norton, MPTT.
R: What is Norton theorem?
Me: Norton nahi.. say Norton ji. He’s elder to you.
R: What is Nortonji’s theorem?
Me: Ask him. It’s his.
R: What is the use of that theorem? Any use of this equivalent current source and parallel load?
Me: Yes. You get marks for solving problems using this theorem. Quite useful.
R: Can we apply it to any network?
Me: Not to power systems I guess. Else they won’t give us that subject.
R: What do you do to power systems?
Me: I don’t do anything. Dogs do something to transmission poles. I remember load flow equations or something making their way in my brain networks.
R: How do you solve them?
Me: I don’t. Newtonji, Raphsonji, Gaussji and Seidelji – these four people – had so much time on their hands. They solved equations without having any known variables. I don’t think we should rely much on them.
R: Tell us about Newtonji-Raphsonji method.
Me: I don’t know. They formulated it long back. We can’t rely on historians to pass it down to us correctly. It’s tweaked now. Totally unreliable.
R: What is maximum power transfer theorem?
Me: It’s like a dog, you know? It never eats when you are watching. Maximum power transfers when there is nobody watching the circuit.
R: What is this switchgear and protection?
Me: Funny subject. If you drive/ride, you’ll know how you switch gears and need protection. Helmets, seat belts and bulletproof jackets!
R: Seriously? What are relays?
Me: Four runners running and passing baton to win. Nobody is capable enough to run it completely.
R: What is a circuit breaker?
Me: Hammer. If a circuit misbehaves, we hit it with the hammer.
L: What is the meaning of Pushkar? Can you use it as a noun only or (mumbles)
Me: What? What do you want to use it as? Push kar? Gande aadmi!
L: What is Pushkar famous for?
Me: Pushkar is famous for spoofing interviews.
L: Anything more?
Me: Yes. He’s famous for snatching back his certificates. Give me that file! NOW!
L: Do you know about a list of great Indian cricketers recently rolled out?
Me: They’re all great. Not a single one among them is a common man.
L: Did India win a world cup in cricket ever in a 50 over match?
Me: No they won for 60 over one..
L: When?
Me: 1857
L: Who was the Man of the final Match?
Me: Rajesh Chauhan
L: what did he do in the final?
Me: He played in it.
L: Who’s his brother?
Me: Shivraj Chauhan
L: What does he do?
Me: He steals money from mom, buys chocolates for his little brother Rajesh and keeps the free stickers.
L: Tell me five great Indian all rounders?
Me: Robin Singh, Ravi Shastri, Sunil Joshi, Harvinder Singh and umm….Venkatpathi Raju. That was in the order of importance – worst to best.
L: Tell me top three all time all rounders of the world.
Me: Richie Benaud, Yousuf Pathan (scored points by mentioning an Indian in the list!) and Vidya Balan – she is round all over (more points yay!)
L: Thank you.
Me: It’s ok. (to R)You want to ask something?
R: No. Thank you.
Me: It’s ok yaar. Don’t get scared. (to L) Take care of him. See ya guys later.
Right guy : R, Left guy: L
L: Give me your certificates file.
Me: Here. Take it. Handle with care. Don’t steal any of the certificates.
R: So your name is Pushkar?
Me: No. It’s my brother’s name.
R: And _____ is your father’s name?
Me: Yes and xxxxx is my last name.
R: It’s your family name, right?
Me: No it’s my last name.
R: So what did you do in VNIT?
Me: I played cricket. I used to have lunch. I liked the Maggie bhel in the canteen. I also checked out a few girls. By the time I passed out, I realized that I had completed Electrical Engineering.
R: When did you clear your engineering?
Me: Ask L. He has the certificates. His confused looks give me a feeling that he won’t be able to figure out the year. It’s 2006.
R: What have you done since then?
Me: Ask me, what have I not done?
R: What have you not done?
Me: OK I’ll tell you what I have done. I took up a job. I sucked at it. To be frank I couldn’t figure out why I was being paid for. I had free net access for around 10 months. Not that they charged me after that. I left the job since I couldn’t take the jargon anymore. After that I took up CA. I have been doing Complete Aaram since then.
R: You completed Electrical Engineering. Do you remember anything?
Me: No. But I know you’ll still ask.
R: What is this subject ‘Network theorems’ about?
Me: Some network theorems they taught us. Kirchoff, Thevenin, Norton, MPTT.
R: What is Norton theorem?
Me: Norton nahi.. say Norton ji. He’s elder to you.
R: What is Nortonji’s theorem?
Me: Ask him. It’s his.
R: What is the use of that theorem? Any use of this equivalent current source and parallel load?
Me: Yes. You get marks for solving problems using this theorem. Quite useful.
R: Can we apply it to any network?
Me: Not to power systems I guess. Else they won’t give us that subject.
R: What do you do to power systems?
Me: I don’t do anything. Dogs do something to transmission poles. I remember load flow equations or something making their way in my brain networks.
R: How do you solve them?
Me: I don’t. Newtonji, Raphsonji, Gaussji and Seidelji – these four people – had so much time on their hands. They solved equations without having any known variables. I don’t think we should rely much on them.
R: Tell us about Newtonji-Raphsonji method.
Me: I don’t know. They formulated it long back. We can’t rely on historians to pass it down to us correctly. It’s tweaked now. Totally unreliable.
R: What is maximum power transfer theorem?
Me: It’s like a dog, you know? It never eats when you are watching. Maximum power transfers when there is nobody watching the circuit.
R: What is this switchgear and protection?
Me: Funny subject. If you drive/ride, you’ll know how you switch gears and need protection. Helmets, seat belts and bulletproof jackets!
R: Seriously? What are relays?
Me: Four runners running and passing baton to win. Nobody is capable enough to run it completely.
R: What is a circuit breaker?
Me: Hammer. If a circuit misbehaves, we hit it with the hammer.
L: What is the meaning of Pushkar? Can you use it as a noun only or (mumbles)
Me: What? What do you want to use it as? Push kar? Gande aadmi!
L: What is Pushkar famous for?
Me: Pushkar is famous for spoofing interviews.
L: Anything more?
Me: Yes. He’s famous for snatching back his certificates. Give me that file! NOW!
L: Do you know about a list of great Indian cricketers recently rolled out?
Me: They’re all great. Not a single one among them is a common man.
L: Did India win a world cup in cricket ever in a 50 over match?
Me: No they won for 60 over one..
L: When?
Me: 1857
L: Who was the Man of the final Match?
Me: Rajesh Chauhan
L: what did he do in the final?
Me: He played in it.
L: Who’s his brother?
Me: Shivraj Chauhan
L: What does he do?
Me: He steals money from mom, buys chocolates for his little brother Rajesh and keeps the free stickers.
L: Tell me five great Indian all rounders?
Me: Robin Singh, Ravi Shastri, Sunil Joshi, Harvinder Singh and umm….Venkatpathi Raju. That was in the order of importance – worst to best.
L: Tell me top three all time all rounders of the world.
Me: Richie Benaud, Yousuf Pathan (scored points by mentioning an Indian in the list!) and Vidya Balan – she is round all over (more points yay!)
L: Thank you.
Me: It’s ok. (to R)You want to ask something?
R: No. Thank you.
Me: It’s ok yaar. Don’t get scared. (to L) Take care of him. See ya guys later.
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