Thursday, December 20, 2007

Johnny B. Goode

Since I've moved to Chennai, I haven't made any blog posts. This is my first from the Tam Land. There are a lot of things I should be blogging about, experiential travelling, etc bullshit. Yes, the same things that everyone has told you before but my point of view on them all. Accents, Bad Rickshaw drivers, Evil Maamis and the rest of the world.

Truly, I've been having the time of my life for the last three weeks and so fuck it all. Yet, I must make a blogpost. It all started with landing on this website. I saw the Reggae version of Johnny B. Goode on there by Peter Tosh.

Then, it made me miss the original Chuck Berry version - so I go and radioblogclub it.

While Radioblogclubbing it, I found the Jimi Hendrix version!

and the Judas Priest version:

and of course, the Michael J Fox version from Back to the Future:

Well, there was ACDC version as well but the damned thing wouldn't load!

So see ya around till the next blog post till then, Johnny Be Good!

(I know you saw that coming, so SHUT UP!)

Monday, November 19, 2007

Where have all my sowed seeds gone?

Parody, yes I did a parody! It started as this intention to write a very socialist red protest song about oppressed suicidal farmers and then it just became a depressing dark humour song.

Sing to the tune of:

Oh I get me ready in a torn green saree
We need to go plough all night and day
No shelter in the summer heat
The hot summer sun to beat,
Look at our children pay
You will pick the cotton, While I go sew some shirts


Where is my Rajnikanth?
Where is my Farming man?
Where is my happy ending?
Where have all my sowed seeds gone?

Why don't you work the evening
And send the kids to night school
I'll find a little something to eat
Oh I know your back hurts from working as a farmer
Please don't drink your tharra my sweet


I am having my periods tonight
But you still just want to drunkfuck me
Say our goodbyes
Say our goodbyes
Say our goodbyes

We finally sold the bakri
When we had another baby
And you took the job in the factory
You made friends at work
And you joined them at bars
Almost every single day of the week
I will wash the dishes and you come beat me


Where is my Raja Khaini?
Where is my suicide?
Where is my fertiliser?
Where have all my sowed seeds gone?
Where have all my sowed seeds gone?
Where have all my sowed seeds gone?

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Nonsensical Stories, but still Stories - III

By popular request of the author coughs, I am reviving the Nonsensical Stories, but still Stories.

13. The Bakery
There were five bakers sitting in a row. Each one had an oven. By the evening they had ready on display: Cake, Cookies, Bread Loaves, Cupcakes and Pastries. In a few hours all the produce was sold and the five bakers went to the bar for a drink. Four of them had tequila shots and one of them had a JD on the rocks. Three of them went home with a woman each. Two of them went home with each other.

The End.

14. The Lady
She was famous. She liked having rampant casual sex. The gossiping aunties said about her that she had a cave between her legs where men got lost and it took them a few days to find their way back.

One day, the aunties went out picnicking. They spread out a mat in the green grass and ate and gossiped some more. A one-legged elf, about a foot tall hopped up to them and asked them, "Would you want to meet young studs who would fuck even you?"

The aunties offended but tempted, reluctantly said, "Hmmm... are you sure?"

"As sure as the Pied Piper of Hamelin was when he promised to dispose the rats."

He hopped on as they followed him into a cave, the end of which there was a lot of light. There they met the young men who were ready as ever to jump them. The elf vanished, and the aunties were fucked till they didn't any longer want it and soon they were raped and one after the other they died of sexual asphyxation.

The End.

15. The Anthem
The Government promised to cover him with gold if he composed the most beautiful anthem in the world. He sat with all his instruments and recording equipment, locking himself up in his studio and meditated.

He wanted to make sure he caught the spirit of the nation. He did. He came out with the most beautiful one minute and twenty one seconds. When the government heard it, they covered him in gold. When the people heard it, there was no longer a government.

The End.

16. Fire in the mountain
"Fire in the mountain! Run Run Run!"
"Fire in the mountain! Run Run Run!"
There was chaos everywhere. One British man stood there, sipping his tea and reading the paper. One of the panic-stricken people came up to him and chanted, "Fire in the mountain! Run Run Run!"
"Oh relax, mate. I'd say the jolly old mountain just has a gas problem or something. He's just breaking wind."
"Fire in the mountain! Run Run Run!"
Because he was cool and calm and everything like that, the running man believed him. He stopped his spot-running and poured himself a cup of tea from the British man's teapot, borrowed the funnies section of the newspaper and stood there chuckling to himself. And soon, there was one man after the other and another. Finally, when all men got together near the Briton, he got on top of his tea table and said, "Can someone get some Antacids please? Don't forget the anti-nauseatic pills too, else we might be facing the threat of a volcano."

Two truckloads of Gelusil (strawberry flavoured) and Domstal were emptied into the lava core of the mountain. The Briton was raised on the arms of the people who were running panic-stricken. The mountain exploded right then leaving a huge crater below it and a flying Briton who landed in Calcutta.

The End.

17. Flight of Lights
It was a sunny day in Heaven as it always is. Lord Ram was resting and it was somewhere around October and November on Earth. Orville walks up to Rama and says, "Dude, this is not happening!"

Ram pulls up his shades and looks at Orville standing over his head, puzzled. His facial expression says WTF but his mouth doesn't because you're not allowed to cuss in heaven.

Orville: "A few fucking fictional centuries ago you landed in an airplane which looked like a swan or something and people started celebrating that landing, it turned into a bloody festival of lights!"

Ram: "Huh?"

Wilbur catches up, panting (of course he didn't fly, he ran this distance): "You stole that plane too! You didn't fucking invent it."

Ram, leaning forward, whispers: "Can you cut down on the expletives, God gets really pissed off, you know. Sit down, have a drink, we'll talk about it."

Orville, pointing his fingers: "How? How can you be so cool about everything?! I am damn pissed! I want a festival of lights in the country I landed! I don't care."

Ram: "Are you in a tale of epic proportions? Was your wife stolen?"


"Did she ride back with you in that first flight?"

"Heck dude, we didn't even marry because we wanted to build the airplane!"

"Well, no wonder you don't have a festival for you."


"See, for any story to be a hit, you need a woman. A love interest. Go watch The Rules of the Game and learn that. So when you land with your love interest and not ON your love interest, the story is a hit and a festival follows. You passed, son, you needed a feminine touch. Now, go back and play with your toys."

(Co-conceptualised with fellow nonsense connoisseur Sharan T.)
The End.

-- more in the third edition to come soon, right now out of nonsense --

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Shukarwaar Ki Shaam Haseen Hai...

Nayi Nayi Yeh Film Lagi Hai!

Khadi Khadi Kya Soch Rahi Hai?
Chal Ho Jaayein Nau Do Gyaara!

Monday, October 01, 2007

Addictive tunes

Edwyn Collins - Never met a girl like you before

CCR - Have you ever seen the rain?

Blind Melon - No Rain

Friday, August 31, 2007

the glue girl

the unanswered questions of a six-year old

mom, why does she do that?
why does she need to
rub the brown glue
from the big bottle
between her palms
and go sniffffff at it?

mom, why does she do that?
why does she need to
paint her nails with
the brown glue from
the big blue bottle
using the
plastic bristled brush
and keep scratching
her nostrils with them?

mom, don't you know
teacher got her to
help with work,
you know sushila teacher
from ukg?
she is her daughter
from college.

she makes a mistake
everytime she is
writing our cards.
she's so dumb.
then she uses white ink
from a bottle
with red sticker to
erase her red pen writing.

mom, but why would
she go snifffffff
on sketch pens?
she can't write
two lines of home work
on white board
without a mark
on her nostril!

mom, why?

we know she is frail but
why would she eat chalk?
she even eats her lunch
with her mom!
doesn't she give her food?

mom, why did she go
on some chalk powder?
she bled from nose,
then they took her
in an ambulance,
you know?

mom, why?

* * *

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Nonsensical Stories, but still Stories - II

Yes, the threat at the end of this post is now being implemented.

9. The Threat
He said he would do it. He really did. I shuddered when he said he would. I thought he should have been dead when he said he could. I tried to stop him when he said he should. He looked out the window, saw his dad and called out, "Dude!"

The End.

10. Ping
Once upon a time, in a country far far away there was an old couple. Because their IQ was high, they did not want children till they were settled in life. So post retirement the woman decided to crave a child because she wanted some activity now that her workaholism had no job to devour upon. Both of them had MBA degrees and had been working long days at their respective jobs. They had many million dollars and their money was working for them now. They bought a mansion on the bank of a river and waited for Momotaro. The woman would just go to the river bank and wash her dirty underwear and linen in public only so that Momotaro would come to them. Unfortunately, she got one part wrong in the legend.

There came on a peach boat, a full grown man, a dog, a monkey and a pheasant. The old couple rejoiced. While they were making their calls to organise a grand party from their expensive cellphones, the boy from the peach boat shoved two long swords into their retired bodies and said, "My name is... Ping!"

The End.

11. An Interview with Caveman
"Hey Caveman, what are you doing?"
"Cave paintings, what else? Hunting season's over."
"What do you paint?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Err... ok... because I think you're lying. You're just hiding inside the cave because you're too scared of the T-Rex."
"Yep, that too."
"That too?"
"Yes. I am actually making horror genre paintings for the T-Rex. I will put them up outside the cave. That will scare the T-Rex into running away."
"What are horror T-Rex paintings?"
"There's one called T-Rex Kebab, Tandoori T-Rex, T-Rex Masala Fry..."
"That won't work. They don't understand paintings!"
"Well, they do understand seeing themselves as food, don't they?"
"Have you discovered fire yet?"
"No, but I've discovered the wheel. Want to ride?"
"You mean, you eat raw food?!"
"I actually decided to invent a time machine before fire."
"Raw food?!"
"No way! We go to the volcano to cook our food."
"Oh, that's a long walk."
"Yes, that is why for lazy days, we carry bucketful of lava back in this bucket. There's a lava tank in my backyard, go check on it."

The End.

12. Monkeys, Peanuts and Classical Conditioning
A woman walks into an office. Resume. Interview. Job Confirmed. Papers signed.
HR Manager says, "We pay peanuts."
Woman says, "Excuse me? I don't understand."
HR Manager smirks, "Start working, you will."
In December, out walks a frustrated monkey.

The End.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

I shouldn't have been alive

This is the third time, I was going to attempt the Rajmachi trek. Done it twice with varying results. Four years back, with three friends (hostel room mates), wearing slippers and floaters, started early in the morning up to waterfall, stood beneath the water which washed through your head and then climbed up again. A good four hour climb with that big waterfall break, a simple route. Three years back, went up the simplest route, a nice sweet walk from Khandala going 4 hours smooth. That year, coming down was the adventure. Got stuck because we couldn't speed it up to reach the base before sundown and hence were lost and thus were rescued by the police (really!). Went with three female friends and one male friend that year. Each time enjoying everything about the experience, even the harrowing parts. The food is simply terrific up there, the village is ubercool, the lake, the vast surrounded-by-sahyadris is an experience not to be missed out on. Then no trek for a year and another. This year, in this eternally lukkha state decided to do it again.

Accompanying me was the only common male friend from the last two treks. This time we decided to scale up the mountain from the tougher Karjat side, stay up there for the night and start early morning on the Lonavala side.

What has changed in the subject between the last trek and this one: I have lost all possible sources of exercise from my life. I have gained more than ten kilograms in pure fat and not even an ounce of protein. I wore shorts and short sleeve t-shirt this time as compared to ankle length cargoes from the last two trips.

The guide whom we hired to take us up the trail (which we thought was a must-do after getting lost the last time) wanted to get back as soon as possible, so he took us up the fastest and the steepest and the water-less-est route up. There was only twice that we encountered the mountain water, one in a stream and the other at the small pool reservoirs that had been built since ancient ages. Some ubercool storage technology it was which I didn't bother to as about. Why? Because, I was dying. Yes, quite simple, I was. I had begun to hear Enya singing. I had begun to see the darkness creep in and the light flash. I began to see the distant light calling me toward itself and the jungle beats of the blood pounding through veins in my ears. With the increased lard in my body, breathing and carrying myself was becoming more and more of a problem as the path got steeper. No water meant no clean feeling, the sweat due to no rain and high humidity, the increasing mud sticking to the feet and the bugs came complimentary. Super mosquitoes in strange colours and still terrible were these strange 8 shaped bugs which stuck to your skin and immediately started sucking blood. You hit them away 2 seconds late and you can see blood trickle down your feet. They were some of the most encouraging things to happen which made me keep my feet moving.

My feet had stopped trusting my brain, my feet had become sure that the brain had lost its sensibilities about knowing what is good for the whole body. There were huge fights betweent he various communication signals from the feet, the ankles, the legs and the thighs. Each had their own story and their own complaints. The ankle would perceive the road and move ahead and wanting to bend. The feet wouldn't want to hit the shapeless rocks and would veer a little left or right, the thigh had its own no-stress policy and so all would move in some weird direction. All this while my mind was busy concentrating on my breathing because it would just go out of control and the heart would start pounding. Well, sitting for a couple of minutes after some climbing and so on and so forth finally we crossed the fencing which would lead straight to the village with no climbing. The legs relieved just decided to go with the flow. The autopilot was switched on and they just kept following the trail. For that last jig before the fence, I had mustered the last bit of my energy. Post that sudden burst, I suddenly heard my friend scream and howl, I was already hearing wild drum beats in my ears and my whole body was drenched in sweat, with that sudden howl, my heart received a sudden jolt and for a moment as my eyes widened, I thought the end was there and then.

As soon as I sat down at the villager's cottage and tried to bend my leg to sit: CRAMP! The whole leg muscle switched position and not just one small part like usually. I was rocking on my back at that moment, unable to move my leg an inch. In a few minutes, and a few strokes of massage by the bottom of my hot tea cup the cramp started to relax and the limping phase began. Well, post this as the sun began to set, the greens began to light up and the happiness began to sink in. The natural green beauty relaxed us a little. Soothed and the pain dissolved or rather not responded to by the brain, the sleep was deep and quick. Oops, forgot the mentioned the SLURRPPP dinner there. Cabbage and wild mushrooms cooked into bhaji, unfortunately no rice or naachni bhaakri, we had to make do with chapaati. The daal was simply kick ass! The breakfast next day was kaanda poha and chaay.

Post breakfast, we walked to the lake up there near a shiva temple. Lord Shiva was generous to us and the green peace was experienced again while we were surrounded by valleys and mountains. That's the beauty of a trek, green peace. Well, we started the descent at 9.15 in the morning. The smooth awesome road, legs on autopilot knowing well that rational thought was beyond people who came to trek so they didn't argue with my mind anymore. Luckily, the road was smooth and a walk so no brain usage was required at all. It took us about 4 hours to weave through a few mountains and reach the exit point on the Khandala-Lonavala highway. We crossed a few tragic sights where the invasion of mankind into this awesome smooth and green walk had begun. They're building one of those cunt tourist damns like Bushi dam to hold a reservoir there. So soon, the walk will become ugly and dirty and terrible. I will want to carry a shotgun the next time I walk that road. It will be a good hunting zone for me, to kill all those screaming bastards who would be screaming while sitting on a concrete dam with water flowing there like a concrete waterfall, bastards! Wannabes! Go to the real waterfall up ahead pussies!

Well, the good part was that it rained quite heavily on the walk back. So basically, we experienced every part of a trek in this one (as it always happens with Rajmachi.) Thankfully, Shreeji had the stubborn brains to get us back via the Volvo from Lonavala and unlike me, he didn't want to come back by Asiad. He said, "Fuck it, even if it's double the price, let's just go!" Well half my brain was thanking him and half of it was cursing him. That must've been the Gujju Baniya half.

Must go back, must go back! But before that, must lose weight, must lose weight! My life is worth just two and half hours man! I shouldn't have been alive!

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Goin' Out West

Time to blog another of my all time favourite songs! Mad and macho as a song can get, music with a style of it's own and behold, a voice which has been described to be sounding "like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months and then taken outside and run over with a car."

Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for Tom Waits!
(Oh, and for every time you go, "Did he say what I think he did?" some select lines in the song to double check with have been pasted here.)

I'm gonna do what I want
And I'm gonna get paid
Do what I want
And I'm gonna get paid

Well I know karate, Voodoo too
I'm gonna make myself available to you...

I'm gonna change my name to Hannibal
Maybe just Rex

I'm gonna wait for the sun
To shine down on me
I cut a hole in my roof
The shape of a heart.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Testing 1... 2... 3...

Rate the levels of Insanity on this Blog! Just hover mouse over and click...

(Hint: 1 = Healthy.)

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

99 Luftballoons

You and I in a little toy shop buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got...

Sounds like a nice little song, little did it know that it was a cold war era protest song! I didn't!

But that's not it! I am obsessed with this song lately!

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Nonsensical Stories, but still Stories

1. The God who said, "Cunt!"
"We are inside an ancient temple where at least one thousand gods are said to have lived at some point or the other. It is also said that they still come back for a holiday at times. They come here to relax away from the prayers of their devotees because it is said that this is the temple where the gods let go and relax."

The ceiling at this point illuminates with red borders and a voice booms: "This is an asylum, cunt! Gods come here to get cured of their mental illnesses, stress and trauma that cunts like you fill our lives with."

The End.

2. Pastonji, the pig
A long time back, there lived a pig. And a short time back, there lived Pastonji. The pig had helminthes called Taena Solium. Pastonji had the pig.

The End.

3. Impending
The smell of burnt onion wafts into the air, I can smell amul butter with the onion too. Practice of 23 years of smelling what's in the kitchen before deciding the mercury levels on the appetite callibre markings on my stomach. Right now, mercury rising. The smell of burnt onion brings the image of an impending dosa, in a ladle, the sizzling sound and the colour yellow of potato-onion sabzi. Now, there are a few things in the world for which killing, bomb squad, blood splatter can all wait.

The End.

4. Post break-up furious
There is always a furious make out session post break-up. There are times when one of the two doesn't have balls and there isn't. There are times when one doesn't have balls and there is no break-up. There are times when one doesn't have balls and there is no affair in the first place to break-up. There are times when one has smashed balls pre-affair or post-break-up and at times mid-session break-up, usually the last words in the last case are inaudible.

The End.

5. Outsourced Thinking
God outsourced the world's thinking to two people, Ling Wong Chai in Shanghai and me here in Bangalore. Your father really worried about the pack of condoms he bought from the paan-wallah. Your mother, unfortunately thought in chinese, so I can't tell. You for that matter should worry about your monitor right now, it won't like that bottle of beer, really.

The End.

6. The Movies
Om Mangalam Bhagawaan Vishnu
Om Mangalam Garuda Dhwaja
Om Mangalam Pundari Kaaksha
Om Mangalaaya Tanno Hari

If this is a hindi movie. Then *coughs* someone is getting married.

Kanya ke pitaa kanya ko le aayein...

The End.

7. The Emperor's New Move
"You got to learn to shake your pelvis to be able to impersonate Elvis!" The dance master shouted.

The Empress giggled as the Emperor wiggled. So the emperor got pissed and he fucked the empress over it. He fucked her good, I've been told.

Furious, he then shouted, "I'm the emperor, I don't need to be a king!"

The End.

Note: No. 8 is written by friend and ex-colleague, Sharan, a true connoisseur and practitioner of the art form. So here we go, ladies and gentlemen, presenting Sharan!

8. The Monkeys of SharaRa

There once lived a monkey in SharaRa. And then, he married Shamita Shetty. And that's about it.

The End.

-- More might come --

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

TMNT - Making of an Ogre

Made in the same way as the one below.
Sukamal sent me a silent film.
I added dialogues. I sent him a talkie.
He didn't like length. So just like Tarantino, he decided to release in 3 volumes.
(Err... Tarantino released Kill Bill 2 volumes because of length.)

So this is the new TMNT episode with new special visual and sound FX! Check it out!
Episode 1:
Episode 2:
Episode 3:


Thursday, May 17, 2007

TMNT the movie

Sukamal's camera and direction and Sharan's actor produced a silent movie.

They then sent the movie to me. I said, why not have dialogues?! Ta-da! So then I wrote dialogues which I see the Sukamal has decently corrected a few things which would've been taken up as an issue by the moral police. So yenjaay the movie :)