Quote me sometime.

Sometimes, life sucks.

And the rest of the time, we just don’t realise it.

Amen.

Nationalism sucks.

“I cant beleive someone actually created a community in ORKUT againstus- The Indians!!!! … There are some people who have started a community ‘We Hate India’ We have to stop them. please go to this community and click on “report as bogus”, orkut will remove that community after 1000 such reports, lets teach a lesson to members of that community

http://www.orkut.com/Community.aspx?cmm=14773994

Thank you in advance.
Regards,
Dave.”

—

Dave, no offense, but fuck you.

—

So what if whoever hates India hates India? Do we function only on “love” for India? And seriously, how many of us really really love India? Ask yourself that first. Till then, leave me the fuck alone.

Amen.

Girls have periods…

…and I have back-aches.

Sigh.

Amen.

…

…

No, seriously!

Amen.

Are you friggin’ kidding me?

Okay, it started out as a normal day at around 5 in the evening. I’m watching tv and generally getting my day started. I leave for work at around quarter to eight, so I’m in no real rush. I bathe (an activity I do everyday, unlike public perception/assumption) and am all set to go to work at 7:30. That is when it all started.

I couldn’t find my set of keys. It wasn’t there at the usual place. Uh, crud, I must have left it in my bag or something. So, I look for it there. No luck, it wasn’t there. The thing about me is I don’t like the idea of having fancy key-chains and so, my keys are all connected through a ring and that’s it – this makes it harder to find them.

So, it’s quarter to eight and I can’t find my keys. My key bunch not just holds my keys to my house but also to my draw at work which in turn holds my secure id without which I can’t ‘work’. So, in short, I’m screwed if I lose any of the keys in question.

And so, I was screwed. I couldn’t locate the keys, which primarily meant I can’t get out of the house and also meant that I wouldn’t be able to get to work on time.

So, I call my roomies.

The thing about my roomies is that they think I’m the most disorganised person on earth. Have you ever heard of a mad man thinking every second person is mad? Well, that’s my roomies for you. They think they’re the cleanest people in the universe. Little do they know I am the one cleaning up their mess once they leave for ‘work’.

So, I call my roomies.

Calling Roomy 1 -

Me: Hey do you have my set of keys?

Roomy 1: I can’t hear you.

Me (a little louder): MY KEYS! Have you seen them?

R1: I… I don’t get you…

Me (switching to my wonderfully fluent Hindi): Keys… My keys.

R1: What about them?

Me: Have you seen them? I can’t find them here…

R1: I don’t know. I have my set.

Me: Okay, I’ll call Roomy 2 then.

R1: No, wait. He’s here. Talk to him.

Me: Yeah, okay.

Roomy 2: Hello?

Me: Have you seen my keys?

R2: No, why?

Me: Because I can’t find them and I can’t get out.

R2: Look for them, they must be where you left them.

This sentence pisses the living hell out of me. “They must be where you left them”? Nice going, Einstein! Where’s your brain? No wait, they must be where you left them, right? Asshole!

Me: But they aren’t there.

R2: Look properly.

Me: Properly?

R2: They have to be there. Where else would they go?

Me: Okay, I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find them. You’re fucking 10 kms away and telling me that they HAVE to be there?

R2: Okay, okay, rela…

Me: Fuck it, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.

And so, the search continued.

I started with the kitchen. Nothing there except for unwashed vessels and coffee stains on the stove.

I looked in the dustbin, just in case I was sleepwalking or something. Maybe I had a dream about me locking my roomies up and setting the house on fire and throwing away the key into a dustbin…. who knows, I have weird dreams anyway.

Anyways, nothing in the dustbin.

I looked under the beds, behind the computer, the television and even the bloody loo. Nothing.

I called my supervisor at work and told him I’ll be late, adding the possibility of not turning up to work at all. I told him why.

Sup: Hahaha….

Me: Fuck you.

Sup: HAHAHAHAHAHA…

I hung up.

I gave up searching. I decided not to got to work and cursed myself for getting myself into a pool of shit when I didn’t know how to swim. I still couldn’t understand how keys could vanish into thin air. I turned the tele on just to keep my mind off things. I hate missing work for something as stupid as this.

Oh well, some time close to midnight, Roomy 2 calls up…

R2: Hey, sorry yaar.

Me: For what?

R2: Your keys… they’re with me.

Son of a….

Me: Okay.

R2: I thought they were mine. Really really sorry.

Me: What time are you coming home?

I think I heard a gulp.

R2: At around 12?

Me: Cool. So, I won’t be missing work after all. Get your ass down here, asap.

So, the mystery of the vanishing key was solved. I got to work, three and a half hours late, most of my colleagues heard of what happened and they had an amused smile when they saw me. I flipped most of them, I punched one in the face and I stomped on my supervisor’s feet. All in all, a productive day.

But nothing is going to save my roomy from the ass-raping he’s going to get when I get home after I finish this post.

I’m thinking screwdrivers, pvc pipes and some bamboo.

After I’m done I can sing…

“Na baas ki bansi,
Na sone ka sariya,
Tere gaand me danda re….”

Amen.

PS: A news report says Tendulkar is not a 100 percent fit. Do you give a flying fuck?