Life sometimes is like that fabulous outfit or pair of shoes you happen to see in a shop display only to go in and find they don't have it in your size.

***

The cousins and I were chilling at Sula the other day and they happened to play this song. Such a lovely feeling it was, sipping our wine listening to Dylan with the vineyards all around and the breeze kissing our faces. The mind tends to freeze such moments and carry them along for a while. Until something comes in and replaces them.

For a special someone who (much to her horror) turns 25 tomorrow. Forever Young.

It's bad enough they do it on birthdays, but calling at the stroke of midnight to wish me a Merry Christmas is taking things a bit too far I think!

Because it's not always convenient to take such calls. Especially when you're in church at Midnight Mass praying; and thinking about how different things are now compared to that starry night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born: They had just one babe to adore, we have so many! Sent straight from heaven to enthrall all mankind. Some in the same amount of clothing as they were wrapped in the day they were born.

Indeed the miracle of Christmas these days happens more in the beauty parlours. And the real miracle, the one that each of us should feel in our hearts, well -

My favourite Christmas song. Chris De Burgh.



Peace, love, and a light to follow.

Someone asked me yesterday -- What's the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? And when I proceeded to narrate the incident they went, -- Oh God, stop! Please stop! Hell, you asked me. So those of you who feel it might be better to stop reading, please do so.

It was around 6 a.m. on a cold September morning in 2007 when I stepped off an Austrian Airlines plane at Vienna International Airport. Flughafen Wien as they call it in German. After an 8 hour flight and the worst airline food I have ever eaten, and considering the fact that I generally refrain from using airplane toilets so that my countrymen can knock themselves out, the urge to use the loo was quite extreme if you know what I mean. Also when you're travelling alone you cannot leave your hand-baggage outside or request somebody to watch it for you because by virtue of being brown-skinned you are by default a possible terrorist. So you gotta take your bags in there with you. Which is what I did.

After I was done downloading I reached for the toilet-paper since toilets in those countries don't have water. There was just a tiny bit of paper sticking out the holder so I put my hand in deeper to get it. And that's when I felt something. At first I didn't know what it was. But when I retracted my hand I saw it. Someone else in a better mood and after a more pleasant flight might have said, -- Oh look, shit! But since I was not that person I screamed, -- OH MY FUCKING.... !!!

Now imagine my situation: I had (someone else's) shit on my right hand, an unclean backside, my pants down to my knees, my bag that weighed a ton on the floor next to my feet, one free (clean) hand, and no water! And I had a connecting flight to catch in 30 minutes. How's a person supposed to get out of that one?

I have never thanked my mother so much in all my life; in all my life I tell you! Because if it wasn't for her I'd have been totally bludy screwed! Tissues. Ever since we were kids my mother always made it a habit for us to carry tissues. More than we need. Just in case, she'd say. And that habit has stuck. And that day it got me out of a very shitty situation.

So what I did is take the tissues out my jean pocket with my left hand and cleaned my backside as best I could. Then with the same hand I managed to yank my jeans up and do the zip and belt etc. After that with my shitty hand stretched as far away from me as possible coz it was stinking like hell, I managed to make my way out of the toilet dragging my bag along. Lucky for me there was no one else using the wash basins or they might have called security on seeing a guy with a hand full of shit making his way out the toilet. And then I washed. And scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Four, five, six times I don't remember.

My very first time in Europe and that's the welcome I got. On the connecting flight to Zuerich with the snow on the Alps gleaming outside my window, all I could think of was how in the hell could someone have managed to get so much shit onto the insides of a toilet-paper holder. It defied all explanation. And the culprit had to be Indian, that much I was damn sure. Because the flight from Mumbai had mostly Indians on it. On hunch is you know how they have those automatic hand dryers where you place your hands under the blower and it starts, -- I think whichever stupid bastard used that toilet before me on seeing that there was no water to wash figured if he placed his arse under the toilet-paper holder it would automatically get clean. And when nothing happened he stuck it up even higher, like you do with the hand dryer. I cannot think of anything else.

***

Gross I know. But I look at the lessons I took out of that:

- Always travel light;
- Carry lots of tissues and a bottle of water with you everywhere;
- Never stick your hand up the toilet-paper holder. Actually never stick your hand up anywhere; and,
- When you're travelling with lots of Indians, go to the toilet before anybody else does.

***

The troops arrive today and tomorrow. NBZ tells me that the couple whose house we had a party at in Dubai will also be coming over because they thought we, or rather I, rocked! Apparently they are still talking about me back in Dubai. Oh well - that was just me doing what I do best I guess. Or second best ;)

Neil Young. Let it Shine!

Don't worry about it, I said to him. 9 out of 10 couples don't do it on their wedding night. You get so tired after the days activities the only thing you look forward to is a massage followed by a hot bubble bath and a good nights sleep.

It gets worse, he says to me. We didn't even do it on our honeymoon.

You're kidding!

No man, seriously.

Dude, then you have a problem. Unless you're both the kind who believe intimacy is sitting up all night and talking.

Don't joke please. You have to help me out here ... I don't know who else to tell this to.

So what's the problem. Why isn't it happening?

That's exactly it -- It's just not happening. I mean we get started but then it's like the flame goes out or something. It just gets cold man.

You need to consult a sexpert I think. It's too early for a marriage counsellor.

Should I show her my porn collection? Maybe that will turn her on.

I don't know man. Most women think porn is sick.

Then what do I do dammit -- How do I have sex with my wife??

You know what -- Don't do anything. Just wait till she gets so horny she throws herself on you!

Or on somebody else before me! Shit, do you think there's somebody else! Oh God, what if ...

***

... she's a lesbian? I didn't say it but it could be that the only reason she married our boy was so she could stay in the closet.

So what advice would you offer a friend who is faced with such a predicament. Frankly I wish they wouldn't confide in me with such things. But this guy I can understand: he's only been married ten days (arranged marriage), of which seven were spent honeymooning in South-East Asia. And I have a reputation for keeping my mouth shut! :)

***

The time of year I like most. So much happening the next couple of weeks. I wish you and yours a joyful Christmas season.

There's this girl I met in Dubai said GNR was her 'religion'. GNR of all things! Oh well - whatever rocks your boat honey. Wasn't too pleased when I said, -- ya but I wish they hadn't butchered Knockin' on Heavens Door like that!

The very first song I played here on the Blues. Tom Petty & Bob Dylan from the 1986 album Dueling Banjos - Knockin' of Heavens Door. For Gia.

There is nothing more delightful than being in the company of two super-talented, extremely well brought up kids. For kids like these I'd gladly give up all my freedoms!

Which is how I spent my day yesterday - just watching them do their thing. They were amazing. Pics on Facebook.

Does anyone know where I can get Rainbow Magic books here in India? That's what they want for Christmas. Felt real bad when they said their daddy couldn't buy it for them back home in Australia because they were too expensive*. And this was after I told them that an Ipod and digital camera were out of the question. Searched at Landmark last evening but nothing.

* Or were they trying to make me ullu, you never know!

John Cougar Mellencamp with a song I just feel like listening to right now - Your life is now!

After what Mr. Woods has done, I'd say the phrase "Be a Tiger" will have taken on a whole new meaning, wouldn't you agree?

But why is the world playing judge, jury and executioner? People are shocked. How could he do that? And why? He has everything goddarnit -- Paisa, ekdum jhakkas biwi, bada ghar, his own bloomin' island in Sweden (and God knows where else), everything a bloke could ask for. So why Tiger, why?

The simple fact of the matter is that men will always be men. We love our freedom, and marriage somehow takes that away. So any opportunity we get to re-live those 'free' days we make the most of it. Problem is some of us don't know where to stop. Like Tiger.

My own cousin was evidence of this fact when I was in Dubai recently. The wife being down in India left our man with nothing to do but have a ball. In fact I couldn't have gone at a better time - what with the booze flowing like a river, the music playing loud, the football matches being watched till 2 a.m., and the Karachi Darbar down the road taking care of the catering. The best part was we could hop into the car and take off to anywhere we felt like on very short notice. You can't do that with wimmen - they need prior intimation; they need preparation time. I laughed when he said as we were leaving for Jebel Ali, -- if she were here she'd be making bludy sandwiches! Yeah, most times we can do without the sandwiches.

So does he miss his old lady? To do his laundry maybe. But for everything else? Sure doesn't seem like it. We even went to that pick-up joint I was telling you about. And though they said it was only to show me the "sights", we know better than that, don't we? --Yeah ok, we showed the boy around, but when was the last time we saw ass like that! ;)

Anyway, that's that. What I am really interested in though is to see how the great Tiger Woods plays himself out of this sandtrap. There'll be a lesson in that for all of us. Because the biggest lessons in life come not from knowing how someone went down, but how he got back up again.

Murray Head. With a song that was banned from radio play in the Middle East when I was growing up. Somewhat ironic because if you look at places like Dubai these days, a number like this wouldn't seem so inappropriate. One night in Bangkok.

They were all slightly cold at the start. As women normally are when there's a new face around. But when the party was over I got a kiss from each one of them. Music has this ability to bring down peoples defences in a way that they warm up to you. Maybe that's why from the very first time I went up on stage I knew that was where I was always wanted to be. I loved that feeling of being with them but not among them.

Sadly for me that has been the way my life has turned out too -- so much adulation, so little love. And it's all my fault.

Ben Harper & Alison Krauss. For L. You don't know how much I wanted to.

So nice to be back home sipping my Johnnie Green. Though I almost - almost - picked up an Isle of Jura ... bludy kickass single malt.

***

Dubai. Everyone there says the government went overboard. And now this news of them asking for a further loan repayment extension, causing so many to worry. Even the ladies of the night have slashed their rates so that'll tell you. They boys took me to one of them so called "pick-up joints" which is a bar/pub like place inside a hotel packed with stunning drop-dead-gorgeous beauties all waiting to be picked up. Not for a dance, mind you. Though I'm sure most of them wouldn't mind throwing that in as well. If they can dance, that is. Men somehow automatically tend to assume that a gorgeous woman would also be a good dancer, when actually that's not always true.

And the last thing Dubai needs is visitors like me who don't spend too much. If it wasn't for the boys being there driving me around showing me a good time I don't think I would ever have gone. Because let's face it - a popular tourist destination is one that has pretty sights, prettier wimmen, affordable booze/nightlife, and the freedom to do whatever whenever wherever. Dubai unfortunately can offer only the first two. Which is why Bangkok/Thailand is a better option. Or Goa even if you're a little kadka.

Jet Airways certainly seems to have got the formula right though, at least on their flights to Dubai. Such lovely faces on board you can pass the time even if the in-flight entertainment is crap. Coupled with generous quantities of free booze and food that doesn't make you want to throw up, I rate them higher in terms of service than most of the other airlines I've flown with - the European and American ones especially, where the stewardesses all look like they are former tri-athletes and the food looks and tastes like something the engines sucked in.

If I could just request Mr. Goyal and his team at Jet: Wider seats and more legroom please. And by now you should know the number of times the average Indian needs to use the toilet on a three hour flight. Just two at the back on a 737 is not enough. At one point there were at least 10 people queueing up to go to the loo. Which is something I wonder about -- if you need to go badly, isn't it better to be seated than to stand up? Gravity and all that.

Fotos up on Facebook.

***

Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals - In the colors.

for you
sitting there
wondering
what's wrong
which song
how long

Catching up with the noose. The chances of us being stricken with diabetes are getting higher and higher if this latest study is to believed. If you're Goan you know all about diabetes. I'm sure if they did a community wise study we'd come out tops. Like a family heirloom it gets passed down the generations. The uncles and aunties even make jokes about the Killer D like it was nothing. Like this old dude at a party last week who had too much to drink. Says to me- Son, if I have one more my sugar will go up; if I have two my wife will give me hell. I'll have one more and stop!

As for me I've lost those cravings. For food especially. The guys wanted to go somewhere yesterday being Friday night and all, but I wasn't interested. Because apart from a few variations the food is the same wherever you go -- it's always something Makhani, Hyderabadi, Lasooni, Adraki, Peshawari, Lahori, Kolhapuri and shit like that. Only thing that changes is the colour of the gravy and a few ingredients here and there depending on what you order. Couple weeks back we had Murg Maratha which caused more damage to my system than a bunch of MNS thugs on the rampage; felt like someone was shooting fire down my intestines!

Other option is to go to the expensive places where you can't pronounce half the items on the menu (if at all you know what they are) and end up eating some strange looking stuff that's dressed up all pretty. I'll pass on both.

I mean why do people make such a big deal about food? I never get that. Travelling all the way across town just to eat something 'special' is madness in my book. Anyway, I hope they're getting enough exercise to burn away those calories or the Killer D's gonna get them. Pair that up with high blood pressure or cholesterol and you have a recipe for disaster! Literally.

***

So - Om Puri made out with his servant girl. Or servant girls. Don't know if he did two at a time or one after another. Doesn't matter either way. And though his wife who happens to have written his biography claims this revelation is not a marketing gimmick I can't think of it being anything else. Why else would she be so 'open' about it. And that story that came out yesterday of Om being hopping mad at her and all - what a load of croc! As if he didn't already know. I mean c'mon - which wife would tolerate her husband making out with the servant. Unless she's been doing the same with the gardener! Funny folk these rich and famous.

Like I read about the Big B being upset that Shahrukh didn't acknowledge his birthday SMS. He wrote about it on his blog it seems. If I meet Amitabh Bachchan I will ask him: Dude, just who do you think you are - God? Because if I'm not mistaken that's what Shahrukh thinks!

***

Speaking of God, this is funny. Or not. Depending on which side of the temple wall you're sitting. People often ask me my religious views. Well, I'm not the most devout of people but I do believe in God. And I do pray. I believe we can't make it on our own. But if you think you can, great for you. Just don't advertise it too much. Because people will laugh when they see you storming the heavens while awaiting the results of a test that could confirm the existence of a life threatening disease or when a loved one is fighting for his/her life, and you can do nothing. Except pray. Beautifully written post by Judy I think everyone should read.

***

Albert King - Blues at Sunrise. Live with Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Overheard:

Girl (checking out handbags at a roadside vendor) to her boyfriend/husband: Which one - black or red?

Guy: Take whichever, I don't care.

Girl: You don't care?? Then why do you care so much what colour underwear I wear?

Guy: Shut up, you're too loud!

Girl: Black or red?

Guy: Red.

***

B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton & Jimmie Vaughn - Rock me baby! Love these live recordings.

No pillion. Just you, the machine, and the road. And freedom.

I want!

And if I had to choose a 'song for the road' for this baby, there is only one number I would pick. Because anything else just wouldn't say it. (I should get into advertising, I know)

These boys took rock n' roll to where nobody else had the balls to. Not even that creepy looking bugger called Jagger. Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey, Keith Moon and the God of bass - John Entwistle, collectively called The Who. Let's see action!

I don't know where I'm going,
I don't know what I need;
but I'll get to where I'm gonna end up,
and that's all right by me.

Not the best of weeks healthwise, but I look on the bright side considering people are popping it at 42! That too health and fitness freaks like Ranjan Das. I reckon it was his theory that 4 hours of sleep was enough to keep Ranjan healthy, wealthy and fine that killed him. I'd have told him he's a damn fool; that it wasn't worth losing his sleep for a company whose profits he helped grow three, four, five times! But would he have listened?

***

Dee is in town with the little guy who is growing up sweetly. A bit too attached to his mother which is never a nice thing - boy's gotta be a man not a sissy. If he was slightly bigger I'd have taken him on a bike ride across to the hills that his mother loved so much. And taught him a few chords on the guitar.

I feel people get it all wrong with their kids these days. I see them spending thousands on DVD's, toys and books - everything they believe a kid must have; part of a good education and all that, but really there is no substitute for spending time with your child. I still remember my grandfather taking us fishing down by the river at our island village in Goa and telling us things - things that probably didn't mean a whole lot to us back then or even make much sense, but which I remember more vividly today than any book I read or movie I watched. Because he took the time - to talk to us and show us stuff. I want to do that for my kids, not spend a thousand bucks on some stupid book or sit them in front of a television set or computer thinking they're getting all they need to know about the world, and life.

***

Caralisa Monteiro with a song from Rock On. For A. Who seems a little down today.

Why don't you have my number saved, I asked her.

I lost my phone and all my contacts.

Where'd you lose it?

In the office toilet.

Didn't you try to get it back?

I don't think I can get it back. Even if I did it's probably no use.

Why, what happened?

You really want to know what happened?

Yes, actually I think this might be interesting.

I had just finished taking a pee and was fastening my salwar pant when the dupatta came in the way and all of a sudden the phone slipped out of my hand straight into the toilet bowl. I hate those bloody salwar khameezes!

Bludy hell - you should have reached in and grabbed it!

Yes but I did not want to put my hand in piss, so I flushed.

You what?? Hahahahaha!

I flushed okay ... I didn't think it would suck the phone in.

I need to Google this but I'd say you're the first person ever to flush a phone down the toilet.

I was so embarrassed to tell my boss ... and I couldn't lie otherwise they'd have informed security about a theft.

Did you check with Lost & Found? The SIM might have made it.

Lost & Found? What are you, crazy? That phone is probably ... yes!

Hahaha, I'm sure they had a laugh too.

Everybody had a laugh. Except me. I lost 16 thousand bucks!

***

But honestly I don't blame her for flushing. You see, toilet bowls are quite unpredictable like that. You never can tell what they will gobble up and what they will leave behind. In what is almost a human like quality, on some days they seem to have this huge appetite and will happily swallow your mobile or even your shoe, and on others they will annoyingly leave a tiny piece of turd behind, as if to say, quite literally - "Look pal, I've had enough of your shit!"

So, lessons learnt -- Don't take your phone to the loo; even if you must take it to the loo don't hold it in your hand coz in the toilet it's better to have both your hands free (you never know for what); don't wear complicated clothing (frankly I'm all for a ban on salwar khameezes in offices); but most importantly: never buy expensive phone.

Anybody feel like sharing their phone-loss tragedies or other toilet related mishaps feel free.

***

Last day of Diwali holiday. Still have to file (and pay) my taxes for last year. I shudder to think how much the interest will come to. Terrible, terrible thing - procastrination.

Stevie Nicks & Fleetwood Mac - Go your own way.

What's the most fun you can have at Diwali?

Bursting a big cracker bomb behind the bastard who's been bursting big cracker bombs non-stop for the past one hour ruining your bludy peace! Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is more fun than seeing the sonofabich jump and squeal with fright like a three-year-old wondering whether his arse was on fire!

Try it sometimes. Super-fun. Just make sure he doesn't see you coming up behind him.

***

And for those of you not adventurous enough to have a go at above-mentioned fun or those who simply don't have anything else to do here's a blog to keep you busy right till Monday evening. It's kinda like a good book, you just don't want to put it down. Autobiography of an Ordinary Man. Love it!

As for me I was thinking of visiting V and S this afternoon. S runs her own beauty salon and has been after me to get a pedicure and facial ever since that trip to Goa where she counted more blackheads on my face than rocks at Palolem. And she refuses to accept the argument that a pedicure, simply put, is sissy! C'mon, I said to her, which man with an ounce of testosterone in his body would be seen getting a pedicure? Darling, she says to me, you have no idea. Men are doing the most unmanly things to themselves these days ... like spending 1,200 bucks getting their bodies waxed every two weeks!

Does that include the jardaloos, I asked? No, she laughed. That you gotta do yourself.

***

Two fabulous ladies, one lovely country song - Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris ... Across the border. For the Cloudcutter. No clouds today, only clear blue skies.

It struck me the other day when I clicked on a program in my Start Menu and nothing happened. Two, three, four times, nothing. But each time I hit Ctrl+Alt+Del it showed program running. Something must be wrong with Task Manager as well, I concluded, telling me that the damn thing is running. Called up the IT Helpdesk and they said you gotta wait, it takes time this particular application. So I tried again, and this time I waited. And what do you know - after something like half a minute it started.

And I had to wonder if that is what we do with our lives as well in this day and age when nobody has time. Do we end task sooner than we should out of sheer impatience? Should we be giving ourselves more time? Should we be giving others more time? Because some of us just need longer to get going.

***

Dolores O'Riordan and the Cranberries. For someone I miss every now and then whenever I think about her. Perhaps with a little time things would have been different.

What happened finally to that Air India stewardess who was manhandled by her Captain and Co? See, that's the problem with the media in our country - no follow-up. On the day things happen they make such a noise and then nothing. Did they sack the two bastards or did they admonish the girl for entering the cockpit unannounced only to find Arora commandeering Chopra's joystick in mid-flight? Which is what I suspect really happened.

Whatever it is I want to know or I'm not flying Air India again. Not that I plan to fly Air India anyway. Not if I can help it.

***

Voting day in Maharashtra today. In what is really a choice between the bad and the ugly. Or the insane rather!

And we're supposed to have a holiday but the slave-drivers told us to vote and come to work. It does not take a whole day to cast your vote, we were told somewhat matter-of-factly.

Yes we know that, I wanted to say, but it's an important choice that needs careful consideration. And time. We're not voting for school House Captain here, you know!

Talk about voting for House Captain, man I remember what an event that used to be. We had four houses - Peacock, Eagle, Falcon and- damn, I forget the fourth (Michelle/Royston do you remember?). All the guys wanted to be in Eagle or Falcon quite simply because Peacock was pussy! And at the beginning of the class year we had to vote for House Captain. Each ones 'house' was allotted to us randomly by the teacher and for a year or two I suffered in Peacock. Then I got put in Eagle and I was flying high again. Anyway, House Captain was someone who had to be an all-rounder - meaning he had to have the personality and proven capabilities in the sporting and academic arenas. I had neither so I was never in contention. But the non-performers like myself did have the power to ruin someones year by denying him/her the position of House Captain (what perks it carried I never understood, but still many wanted it). And people always remember when you screw them over, know what I'm saying? So the year we all plotted and denied the show-off Chetan the honour in favour of the babe Sujata - Chetan never forgot that. He tried to win us over with all kinds of bullshit ... all Sujata had to do was smile her dimpled smile and say - Pleasssse vote for me guys!

Problem with our politicians is they're all bludy bullshitters. Makes me think we need some pretty wimmen in the fray. Even if the power does go to their heads. I wouldn't mind having statues of some hottie all over the place, would you? We'll take that over a dead warrior anyday!

From Wide Open Spaces, the Dixie Chicks - I can love you better.

Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't it the idea behind wearing a funny T-shirt that you make people laugh? So why then did this girl with the very fine pair of ladybumps who I passed on the street the other day give me a very dirty look when I read what was on her shirt and laughed? Because in big bold lettering right across them twin peaks it said: DON'T FORGET TO BLINK!

I don't know. People are weird.

***

People are also stupid. What else can explain why folks who cannot swim will step onto a tour-boat in a lake in Kerala when those boats have been known to sink more than they stay afloat. And then as if none of them had ever studied physics in school they all crowd onto one side of the damn thing capsizing it, apparently to get a glimpse (and some fotos I assume) of a bunch of elephants!

But when I told this to one of the guys at work he shot back at me saying: Why do people who can't fly step onto an airplane?

Hmmm. I suspect he can't swim.

***

People are also bludy crazy! Paying Amitabh Bachchan one hundred and twenty six crores to host Bigg Boss 3. I saw the opening episode yesterday and I only hope the folks at Colors have done their homework. Because unless Sherlyn, Shamita and the German chick get into a hot lesbian threesome I don't see how that crap is going to make any money.

As for Rakhi Sawant's mom, oh my sweet God -- they say every woman ends up looking like her mother at some point of time, but if that is what Rakhi is going to look like 20 years from now (or even less), Elesh my man - you better run while you can!

Does anybody have a foto of Priyanka's mother?

***

Thanks for all the emails, comments and the FB messages you sent me on the 30th. A special thanks to a certain someone who raised me many a toast and also went so far as to almost invent a new cocktail from a perfectly fine shot of 18-year-old single malt only because 'it had to be perfect'. Thanks G.

It was the birdie of the Bun on the 3rd and this song's for her. One of the biggest hits of 1969 - Creedence Clearwater Revival - Proud Mary.

how old you are
is all the years spent
wishing, waiting, hoping, praying

how young you are
is all the years spent
living

What was intended to be just another ride downtown to grab a couple of beers ended up in over 2 grand parting ways with us because the band in attendance was Soulmate, the blues outfit from Shillong, which I've read so much about on Eve's.

With some very talented musicians and a brilliant lead vocalist (Tipriti 'Tips' Kharbangar I believe her name is) who, when she gets going, sounds like she's got the devil trapped inside her, they sound good - very good. Only problem is they tend to stick to the formula too much if you know what I mean. Because a great bluesman is someone who can take it off the road and still not lose the way. That's what makes you special. Which is why after listening to Soulmate for over two hours last night I'll say they are good but they ain't special. Which doesn't mean they don't have it in them. On the contrary they are one of the best live acts I've heard in a long time.

There's a fine line between the blues and rock n' roll and Soulmate seemed to cross that line quite often. Because when people get up and start dancing you know you've left the blues behind. Coz the blues is music for the soul, not the feet. Or maybe I'm being too harsh. It's always more difficult when you're live in front of a crowd that don't know Albert Collins from Albert King, so maybe that was what was driving their track selection. Which is why I'd love to get my hands on their CD.

They play at the Blue Frog, Sept 30, Mumbai City. Catch them if you can. The girl is awesome - she's like that V12 under the hood - she is the powerhouse! Without her I reckon Soulmate would be nowhere close to the act it is.

***

Thanks for all your comments on the previous post. I especially liked that long one by Scratchpost ... made me laugh. Yeah, those are the kind of ads I'd like to see. Why do people focus so much on looks anyway? Because really it doesn't mean a thing if there is a union of souls.

For Scratchpost - the great John Lee Hooker with Bonnie Raitt. Now this is a song I'd love to hear 'Tips' sing. Coz I tell you man - she can get anyone in the mood!

What if people were really honest when putting out matrimonials. Wouldn't that be - interesting?

Male aged so-and-so working as bla-bla-bla seeks beautiful homely girl with hot sweltering body, experienced in the ancient art of lovemaking, with good culinary skills and well paying job.

End of story. I think women would actually appreciate that. So you may be flooded with calls from various escort agencies offering just that without the hassle of marriage, but still, it's worth a shot wouldn't you say?

Same goes for the women. Why not something like -- Seeking nice gentle man with sober habits and non-philandering ways, having tons of money and no blocked arteries.

I think it'll work, I really do.

***

But on a more serious note - why do people lie? Why would a girl who's dark as the night call herself wheatish, and why would someone with an ass that could hold half the floodwater in Wadala call herself slim? Beats me. Or do they believe that other favourable aspects of themselves which will emerge subsequently would cover up for the bits they lied about. I don't know.

Honesty in these matters is very important I think -- Look honey, I'm an ugly old bastard who can't offer you much - just the love of a good man and a beer on weekends. Or some red wine if you prefer. Plus I'll sing for you when you're blue.

Why not?

Anybody interested you know where to reach me.

***

The Bellamy Brothers ... If I said you had a beautiful body.

I don't know why but I have this great urge to sing this song ... make that get very drunk and sing this song. Anybody game?

***

When the Afreen video came out most men I knew were unanimous on one thing: Lisa Ray was the most gorgeous creature ever to walk this earth. So it made me very sad yesterday to read that she's got an incurable cancer.

A couple of weeks back I met this really nice guy who quit his job in the US so he could be with his wife who is suffering from cancer of the breast. Talking to him I couldn't help being overcome with sympathy, to the point where I felt like giving him a hug and saying hang in there mate. You see, she is only 26.

And Lisa is 37. Not old enough we'd think. But hey, these days it's age no bar. And so it amuses me greatly to see some people planning for their retirement and shit like that. Retirement?? When is that - 58 ... 60?? Not a chance in hell dude! Not unless you're the bludy Queen.

So make the most of today, live it up and make peace with whoever you'd like to see dead. Because they might just kick it sooner than you know!

And know what you would do if you had a million bucks. Not very easy let me tell you. Not unless you happen to be Gujarati ... in which case you'd most likely be thinking about how to turn it into 10 million!




PS: Looking through the comments on Lisa's blog I spotted this one:

"Lisa.. you still have a long way to go. I’ll pray for your recovery in our temple (70 kms from Hyderabad). It’s very powerful deity. I am sure you’ll be normal soon."

What did I tell you about anything being possible in Andhra Pradesh! :)

I'm just thinking: If the Chinks can come in and paint our boulders red supposedly to mark 'their' territory, why can't we do something similar? In a manner that is distinctly Indian, costs nothing, and which will work better than anything else to keep those rotters from the People's Army at bay. Yes I'm talking good ol' Desi turd. Get an entire battalion to do the job on every rock and boulder in that part of our border with China and incursions will end pronto. We may not be able to beat you militarily Great Dragon, but we can certainly give you shit!

***

Kaminey. The ending takes you straight back to one of those crappy movies from the 80's where everyone comes together for one final showdown and anyone who doesn't need to stay alive gets killed. Only reason I went to see it to be honest is because I have developed a deep love for every inch of Priyanka Chopra's body, who these days looks totally ravishing in every role she does. Other than that it was two hours of complete nonsense.

***

Fair bit of shit goin' down in Andhra politics as well from the looks of it. With Sr. Reddy gone and Jr. Reddy not quite ready, poor Sonia appears to be in something of a fix, what with many in the State Cabinet not ready to accept anybody other than a Reddy. I reckon they'd have reinstated the old man's ghost if that were even remotely possible. Weirder things have been known to happen in Andhra Pradesh, so you never can tell.

Quite a shitty post this has turned out to be. Oh well - it's good to clear the system sometimes.

From the TV series Miami Vice, Jan Hammer with Crockett's Theme.

Overheard a girl saying on her phone:

"When will you men realize that I don't know is not an answer!"

***

And I had to smile. Looked at her and smiled. She looked angry. Very angry.

***

But that's how it is with us guys. There are some things we just don't know. It's hard to explain.

***

I smiled because there's this girl I met recently. Pretty much everything I'd be looking for in a girl. Okay so she didn't have that Jessica Alba smile, Angelina lips or Megan Fox body, but what the hell - she was nice. But when someone asked me if I'd want to meet her again I said I don't know. Now saying I don't know usually means you're leaning towards the negative, but in this case I'm pretty much right there in the middle -- I simply do not know.

And so I'm in a bit of a quandary. Because if she calls me I know that's not the answer she wants to hear.

Bette Davis Eyes. No, she didn't have those either.

If someone had stuck a finger up his arse then perhaps he'd have reason to be sore (awful pun intended!). But making such an issue over the minor matter of being detained at a US airport, something hundreds of people go through every day, is quite unnecessary I think. Because let's face it Mr. Khan: you may be a big-shot celebrity over here but in America you're just another Muslim with an expensive pair of shades.

***

I was kind of under the weather all week but large doses of alcohol over the weekend did the trick. I could even manage to look into my investments and what do you know - not in the red anymore! Though for how long that lasts remains to be seen. I've decided to try the SIP route now so let's see how that works out. Because when I think about it if my father had invested regularly since the 70's it might have been us living in a sea-facing 19th century villa at Bandstand instead of some chap called Khan.

***

Instrumental week here on the Blues. Kick it off with Mammagamma by the Alan Parsons Project. Tata Sky users will recognize this one. And I doubt they pay Alan anything for using his tune. It's like someone (AGG I think it was) once said about Kenny G -- If he got paid for every time one of his tunes was played in an elevator he'd be worth billions! Which gets me thinking: so much depends on where your audience is at. Seat them in an auditorium or a cinema hall and you become an entertainer. Put them in an elevator, and well - you're just a pleasant distraction.

For someone who talks so much his Ministry's website sure doesn't say a lot. It actually resembles the kind of stuff amateur web designers used to create on Geocities before blogs and personal domains became popular. At the very top you will find something called Step by Step Guidelines to Become Smoke Free. This when we are faced with a pandemic that threatens to take more lives than all the cigarettes that will be consumed this year. If only they came up with similar guidelines to stop people spitting!

So forget about finding anything even remotely useful there (that is if you find this useful!). If you want to know everything there is to know about the H1N1 virus go to the CDC's dedicated website here. Though there are probably a hundred more ways in which the virus could spread in our country given the fact that lack of hygiene is something of a genetic trait with us Indians.

There is even a section on face-masks. Apparently those 10 Rupee type things everyone seems to be buying are supposed to be used just once and thrown away.

***

I developed a cough last evening and I can't blame everyone at home for getting slightly panicky, though I think it was those chilled beers I had yesterday and the day before. But try telling them that ... given the chance they'd make me pop half a dozen Tamiflu just to be safe. No fever still so I think I'm ok for now.

Nice week. I hear there's a proposal to temporarily shut all malls, multiplexes, eating places and the like. So all we can do is sit home and watch TV, something the men will surely have no problem with!

Those of you who were expecting a grand finale with the backdrop of the Taj or some other symbol of undying love must surely have been disappointed at being made to watch such a dull, gaudy affair in a suburban Mumbai hotel. Especially after last weeks grand proceedings at some fancy palace in Udaipur.

Also very disappointed must be those who were expecting the wedding to take place right there and then. You didn't actualy think that would happen, did you? No - "they need time to get to know each other away from the cameras". C'mon, the whole thing was fixed! NDTV got the ratings, Rakhi got the moolah, and as for our boy Parathawala, well - he ain't getting Rakhi, that's for bludy sure. What do you reckon he's getting anyway?

***

Friendship Day I believe it was yesterday. Ironically the very same day in 1990 that Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, changing forever the lives of so many people, not the least his own. Because if the Yanks are to be believed he should be quite dead now. But you can never tell with the Yanks. There's this whole theory that Osama is living it up as the guest of the United States on some remote Pacific island with a hundred virgins and the latest Playstation for company.

Peace, love, and smaller bites of reality.

The one thing I never miss when I go to Goa is to stroll around the tinto at Calangute just to see the honeymoon couples shopping. Because nothing is more hilarious than seeing the guy being (or trying to be) all nice to the woman he's just married when you know that in his mind the only thing he's saying is something on the lines of -- buy whatever the hell you want quickly so we can go back to the room and have bludy sex!

But he will wait patiently while she checks out pair after pair of printed rubber chappals, some stupid over-priced top (and telling her you get those on Linking Road does nothing to stop her, so don't even bother), or worse - shell jewellery or some shit like that. I mean here's a guy who's looking forward to every minute of lovemaking possible, and you make him go shopping! That's plain cruel.

***

Yes I'm back. And I gotta tell you it's almost miraculous what three days of sun, sea and sand can do for you. I feel rejuvenated, the aches and pains have all disappeared, and yep I'm ready once again to kick the world wherever it needs kicking.

The weather gods were with us the first three days and Palolem was wonderful with it's fine golden sand and pretty firang wimmen (surprising they even come at this time). On day four though it started to pour ruining our plan to go to Agonda, so we packed it up and headed back North before leaving to come home. But it's something I've decided to do every few months going forward - a trip to Goa. I thoroughly recommend it ... works wonders for me anyway.

Pics up on my Facebook for those who wanna see. BFN.

Planning a trip they say is fun. But not when you're watching Rakhi ka Swayamvar at the same time. Then all the fun comes from watching Rakhi and no planning gets done.

Which is what happened Sunday afternoon when me and the chaps met up. Blame it on Rakhi because as things stand now nobody has any idea where we're gonna go, what we're gonna do, and more importantly where we're gonna stay. Some very surprised looks were shot back at me when I mentioned the word reservation. They were like - OMG, he's lost it! Dude we can pitch our tent on the side of the road if there's nowhere to sleep! What are you, a girl??

Anyway the plan, if you can call it that, is to go South. Problem is we're all Northerners, and the North is all we know. So if any of you know South Goa well please suggest some good places. The guys all seem to be members of the 'we'll see when we get there' club, but not me. I need to know where I'm going.

***

As for Rakhi and her Swayamvar, how much do you reckon madam is getting paid to do this shit? If the ratings are anything to go by, I'd say her years of stuggle will soon come to an end.

ROFL moment of the day was when that moron from Nagpur kept asking her all those questions about her past 'n stuff (who she's screwed to be exact). At which our man Ally goes: Dude only thing left now is for him to check her hymen!

Goin' country with the Bellamy Brothers. This one called Old Hippie, which is what I think I'm slowly turning into.

The one problem I always had making things with my Lego was that whenever I built something really big and grand it would use up all my bricks. I'd keep admiring it proudly for some days and then I'd tear it down, so that I could build something new. I'd tell myself that one day I'd create my masterpiece, after which I'd never have to build anything ever again. That day never came.

I think it's the same with people and lives. Some of us constantly need to be building something new. Otherwise we get bored. Others are quite content with what they have, never feeling the need to do anything different. People in the first category often end up hurting the ones they love, but that doesn't necessarily make them bad people. That's just how they are.

But people in the second category, those who love that sense of permanence, do not understand how those in the first can be so destructive. To them it seems crazy that someone would want to destroy everything that took so long to build. It does not make sense.

Like it does not make sense when a husband decides to go off with another woman, or when a wife decides to have an affair. Who is wrong and who is right and who decides where the boundary between the two lies. Something I have spent much time thinking over. Was she wrong to leave me for someone else? Or did I decide it was wrong.

***

Johnny Van Zant and Lynyrd Skynyrd. For our Michelle on her birthday tomorrow. And for all y'all folks out there who like her have been too long away from home.

Giving my sadness a name. Matt Butcher sounds so much like Al Stewart. And the girl - oh I love her - a cross between Bonnie Raitt and Emmylou Harris. And that tattoo she's got, now that's what I call body-art, not some butterfly hidden away in your underwear!

Watch the video on YouTube or take a listen on Grooveshark (Thanks once more ~N, can't tell you how much I love that site) or right here on the Blues (the only mp3 I could find).

***

My friend and blogger, the wonderful Clem "Bandra Bugger" Desylva needs all the votes he can get to see him behind the wheel of a brand new Mitsubishi Cedia (wish I could have said said Land Rover, but still) on The Great Driving Challenge. Voting closes today, so hurry! And you can be sure he'll have plenty of stories to tell us in his very own inimitable style. Go Clem!

The boys and I (with one girl) head off to Goa next weekend. I haven't been to Goa in the rains since I was a kid, but what the hell - with the right company it don't matter a helluva lot, yeah?

Cheers then and do vote for Clem.

Matt Butcher and Olivia Wynne ... Giving my sadness a name.

The 4th of July. Big weekend in America. Wonder if my brother'll be driving down to Bristol to see the parade.

And it was a big week for freedom - gay freedom rather - here in India.

At my cousins place the other evening when all of this was breaking news her 9 year old daughter looked away from the TV and went- Mummy what's a gay?

Errrm... gays are people who are - different!

Different in what way?

Different meaning they like different things (in a tone that said- Now shut up about it!)

So it's not bad to be a gay

(somewhat hesitantly) ...Errrm no, not at all.

But how do you know if you're a gay. What if I'm gay?

(at which my cousin nearly freaked. I could see it on her face!)

No-No you are not gay.

But I like... **

Have you finished learning that Marathi poem? Go now and do it.

** it's a pity she couldn't finish that sentence.

***

But now that gay sex/love/rocknroll is not a crime anymore I reckon many other parents gonna be faced with such uncomfortable questions. Till such time as it's making the news anyway.

And what about all those unfortunate homosexuals who were forced to get married to people of the opposite gender? There's one such chap in my office, got married just a couple months ago ... on Fridays you see him in pink shirts and red belts with white socks and funny looking pants. What about them? Will they be ditching their spouses to go after the first homo they can get their hands on? I wonder.

***

All beast women's final at Wimbledon today. Very uninteresting for most male viewers I'd imagine. Yeah, we like it when the pretty girls play.

Edie Brickell with an old Bob Dylan original. From the soundtrack to the movie Born on the Fourth of July where Tommy Cruise put in his best performance ever I think, and in which Edie actually sang this song in one scene - A hard rain's a-gonna fall. Which is what the forecast for this weekend is. Y'know, some people like the rains ... I like those dry spells in-between. What does that say about me?

There was a stud called Shiney
who quite fancied his housemaids hiney
When the moment was right he grabbed her tight
and gave her more than just a fright

But somehow I feel there's more to it than has come to light. Though he's confessed (you'd be singing like a canary too if faced with the prospect of Sub Inspector Gandmare aka "The Can Opener" shoving his lathi, the one made of wood, up your arse) the pieces don't quite fit. Why would a guy force himself on some maid (and they're all big bludy crooks let me tell you) when there are plenty wimmen out there who wouldn't mind forcing themselves on him! It may take a while but I suspect the truth will come out, as his stalwart wife kept saying repeatedly on IBN last night.

***

We're sorry, but we're down on form, says MS Dhoni
all these matches one after another ain't funny
Please understand - we do it all for you, dear fan
and in a small part for the munny

Too much cricket, you say? That's what we thought as well Moolah Singh! Don't the players have any say at all? Otherwise just ask for a rest like Sachin wisely has. But don't go out there and play like shit and expect us to feel sorry for you. Because we don't.

***

Go not to the US of A
if healthy, a little less wealthy, and fine is how you wanna stay
For though that may be the land of milk and honey
if you catch the flu things won't be sunny

A travel advisory was issued this week by the Govt of India (which is a first I think) for countries severely affected by the swine flu, in particular the United States. What I'd be very interested to know is how many Indians actually cancel their travel plans to the US in light of this advisory. We are quite fearless like that.

And what about those Indians coming from the States on holiday and such? Why not urge them to stay put? They're the ones who started this in the first place.

***

Too many cooks who hadn't read their books
is what screwed things up on 26/11
But what use is knowing the facts
if nobody gets off their ass and acts

As far as we can tell it's case closed. We'll just have to see when the next terror attack comes, God forbid, if our people in power are better prepared. I seriously doubt it.

***

Bonnie Tyler. For those of you who like me were born in the 70's (or thereabouts), grew up in the 80's, and miss those rocking years - It's a heartache. Don't you just love that voice!

Caption this :)

***

From his Greatest Hits album Actual Miles here's Don Henley with a Leonard Cohen original - Everybody Knows. Love the lyrics on this one. Nice weekend.

Do you mind being seen alone with a married woman?

It's more the other way around. I should be asking you.

I don't care what anybody thinks or says. There is no love, you know. Never was. I grew up in a place called Bhilai, guess you've heard of it ... famous for its steel plant. A girl there doesn't have too many choices. They married me off to a man I knew nothing about and had nothing in common with. I was only 24, wanted to do so much more, go places, but they wouldn't let me.

That's a common story I guess for girls from those parts.

Yes and people expect us to be all goody two-shoes like we're from another planet or something. You probably were surprised to see me drinking at the party.

No, not really.

I enjoy a drink sometimes, just like you guys do. I wish I could keep a few beers in the fridge at home, relax, put my feet up, watch a movie on weekends, but he would freak. I have to be the good wife at all times.

Would you ever consider having an affair?

Gosh, are you always this direct with people? I don't know. He's not to blame for who he is. It's just the way he's been brought up. It's the only way he knows. It's not that I want to cheat on him, I just wish... I just wish he'd lighten up a little. I earn as much as he does, I wish he wouldn't treat me like part of the furniture. I wish we'd have a life.

The way I see it you can either love the life you're living or live the life you love. It's that simple.

Nothing is that simple. Making one or the other choice requires taking some very difficult decisions. Decisions that involve others, not just yourself.

So basically you're a girl who wants to keep the life she's got because she's too scared or couldn't be bothered to do anything about it, but who would like to have a little fun on the side every now and then, is that what you're saying?

Fun? I hate it when you guys use that word with reference to us, like we're all a bunch of tramps or something. I just want a friend, someone I can talk to .... someone who's sweet and kind like you, with no hang-ups.

Sweet and kind?? I can be quite a brute let me assure you.

Ya I've seen that. You behave like such a goonda around those bachchas in your team.

Ha! You have to. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. You gotta show them who's boss from Day 1. But you know, there's something I gotta tell you.

You think I'm hot. Everyone in office knows that.

No, not that. What I wanted to say was every time I see you there's this song that plays in my head. By the Eagles it's called Lying Eyes.

They give me away, huh?

Completely.

Can we talk about something else, please. Friend talk.

That's how it starts you know - friends.

It's important to know where to draw the line.

Lines are usually drawn in chalk.

You have an answer for everything! What do people like us do then? What do people like us do? We know somethings got to change, and we want it so bad, but-

There used to be this little ad that would appear almost every day in the GDN which read: Sad, suicidal, lost? Call the Befrienders. When you're a kid you wonder who would actually call. To you it would seem odd that anybody could be so sad, so suicidal, or so lost to want to pick up the phone and talk to some stranger for comfort.

Funny how things change with time. Because when you're sad, suicidal or lost, nobody is a stranger.

Why are the Aussies, the Queensland University of Technology to be precise, so keen to confer the BIG-B with that honorary doctorate of theirs, I don't understand. I mean just look at this - it's ridiculous! Which self-respecting Aussie would do that? Not me! Why don't they just cut the niceties and say what they would have said had the situation been slightly different -- You know what mate, you don't want our doctorate, PISS OFF!

And we are calling the Aussies racist - we, who are the most racist people on earth! It really is a joke. Because there is no one more racist than us Indians. We are divided on everything there is to be divided on ... and if there isn't you can bet your ass we'll find something.

***

Sad to hear about that Air France plane that crashed in the middle of the Atlantic. Not a single Indian on board, which is strange. But if there was, what do you think would be the first thing most people back home would want to know? Yes of course - where was he from, and more importantly - what was he! Oh, Gujarati? Never mind, one less!.

Fleetwood Mac - Tusk. Don't ask me why it's called that.

The way I see it there are two possibilities -- Either I have attained a higher state of being or I have gone completely mad.

Not knowing which of the two applies to me is what's really a bummer.

***

I was at the barbers getting a shave at the hands of the very adept and handsome Shahid Kapoor (I call him that because he resembles the actor) thinking about this friend of mine who recently got engaged when something of a Khalil Gibranish thought popped into my head which I'm going to share with you. Don't laugh.

On Marriage-

When a man sweltering under the desert sun finds a shade he does not look to see what kind of tree it is. We marry more for the shade than for the tree.

:)

***

Can't believe we're nearly half way through 2009. Scary how time flies. We're getting older faster than we know.

Neil Young.

Why was Vijay Mallya looking like he'd bet his entire liquor empire and Katrina Kaif to go with it?

But well done Adam Gilchrist and the Deccan Chargers.

***

OK - So maybe I was a little off the mark in that previous post about you wimmen. Or maybe I'm just been mixing with the wrong kind as Karuna says, but then you can't choose the dumb-asses you work with, can you?

Which is something the kid and I talk about all the time - there is not one dame in the office you can have a decent conversation with. Somebody is surely screwing up somewhere.

***

Agent Green Glass. Anyone heard of her? I won't start with the adjectives, I'll just say this - I've waited a long time to read a blog like this! Stumbled upon it yesterday afternoon while on a visit to Clem at Bandra Buggers and it ended up ruining my siesta. But it was worth every wink of sleep lost. She says she likes the Blues, well I'll tell you what babe - I love you!! Rock on.

***

Talking of Bandra buggers, our man Al totally cracked me up yesterday (we normally talk on Sundays). Says to me- Dude you know what's this Tweeter shit?

I think you mean Twitter, I said.

Haan that only.

It's something like instant messaging. I'm not sure how it works exactly but I hear it's quite popular. Why, what happened?

No I was just wondering. Because when Pudding said she wants me to check her tweets I thought she was referring to some part of her body!

***

Big delegation of goras visiting the office today. I hate having to kowtow to the buggers. Actually I don't, everyone else does. Just coz someone's skin is a few shades lighter doesn't mean you have to drop everything and hanker after them. That's something we Indians just can't seem to shake off.

And all that wining and dining in 5 star hotels is another pain. They want to eat kebab ... and there they'll believe anything you tell them. Oh this is not spicy, you'll love it. Okay, I try it then. Ha! Just think - we could send them to hell if we wanted to. One plate of guaranteed-to-make-you-shit kebab will do the job quite nicely.

Carly Simon on a warm Monday morning. From way back 1972 - You're so Vain. Nice week.

It's quite interesting the way women look at the two things we men are most passionate about - sports and machines.

Lets talk about sports first. We were trying get some of the girls in the office to participate in this IPL fantasy game we've been playing (where you contribute 10 bucks every day and whoever scores the highest walks away with all the money) when one of them says to me - "Don't you guys have anything better to do than follow cricket!"

That to me was hitting below the belt. Well, I said to her - I could talk on the phone for two hours every day, and unfortunately I don't wear make-up or I'd go twenty times to the washroom to see if everything is theek-thaak, so no - I'd rather follow cricket!

Sports to most women is a bunch of people doing something stupid, a waste of time as it were. But they'll watch it when it suits them, when it gets entertaining like in the slog overs of the big final where it goes down to the wire, or the finals of the football World Cup when there are 3 minutes left on the clock and Ronaldo makes a dash for goal - that's when they'll be jumping up and down screaming Go! Go! Go!. But it ends there. Get what I'm saying? At other times it's just a bunch of guys kicking a ball around the park. In short - boring! The intricacies of the game and the skill that goes into it is not something they could be bothered with. Which is why they will ask inane questions like: Why do Formula-1 drivers keep going round and round the track? And we have to tell them - They are not just going round and round - it is a test of man and machine. I'd like to see you do 70 laps sitting strapped inside a machine that can reach speeds of upto 300 kmph at G-forces that can rival a fighter jet .... the last thing you'll be worrying about is how your hair looks!

It's the same with machines. Just like football is a bunch of men running across a field kicking a ball around, a machine like a car or a bike is just a bunch of nuts and bolts and misc. other parts that takes you from A to B. That's all they know. And to them that's all they need to know. They will never bother to look under the hood and understand how the damn things works. And if something goes wrong they will call a mechanic, give him the keys and take an auto home. Or they'll just call their husbands or boyfriends. We will never do that. I could never leave my bike or car in the hands of some mechanic or anybody else for that matter and go home. Because for us a car is more than just four wheels and an engine. It's like a person that lives and breathes. And when something goes wrong with it we worry. In short we love our machines. Love - that's what it's all about.

Women will argue that it's the same with us men - we don't understand the things they like. Not true. At least we try. There was a time I didn't know an A-line from a silhouette, a tunic from a top, an underwire from a push-up, but now (and reading HHC for a year has helped) I know. You should have seen the look on JC's face when I picked up three, note that - three - perfectly fitting tops for her from Hill Road that all looked bludy killer. "How the hell did you- " ... and she stopped there. She was speechless. Oh yeah, take me shopping baby - 10 minutes and a few dirty stares from some of the dames who fancied the stuff I'd picked up, and I was outta there. One of them actually thought I'd be a nice guy and give her the blue and white polka-dotted one I was holding. Ha! When you're jostling for space with three or four very determined females who will stop at nothing to get what they want, there is only one thing I can call it - WAR! And that's where all those years spent on the football field comes to use - quick reflexes! Because as soon as that roadside guy opens one of his boxes and pours the goodies out onto his handcart, you gotta attack. There's no time to think, just grab! Like when you're in the penalty area and that beast of a defender will do anything, not excluding crush your balls, to see that you do not score. And they think sports is stupid. Prepares you for life is what it does.

And just in case somebody's thinking of leaving some smart-ass comment - no, I am not buying you your underwear. But I do know some men who subscribe to Victoria's Secret catalogues ... maybe they can help. See, we try.

***

So - that slippery old sea lion Karunanidhi is giving Sonia and the Congress a hard time. I'd like to see her whip out her Uzi from inside that violin case - total mafia style as Rupa put it - and fire a few rounds up his rear end! But hats off to Manmohan for standing his ground and refusing to give those rotters Baalu and Raja the plum portfolios they wanted. He's made one concession already for a rather undignified lady from West Bengal.

***

American Idol. I thought Lambert was the better of the two, I really did. Quite a show though, the final ... so good to see Brian May still looking the same. Same goes for Rod Stewart. Watching him sing Maggie got me thinking - if someone like him was in this competition he wouldn't stand a chance in hell, not with a voice like his. And that's where I think American Idol fails. They're looking for voices that sell, not voices that stand out.

Here's another voice that for me has always stood out. At a time when everybody here is looking for rain, this is Chris Rea - Looking for the summer.

I'm just wondering - how do you keep a straight face telling people what you do when your job title reads something like this. Just wondering.

And I would never have known that such a thing even existed if it wasn't for some chap sitting behind me in the bus who gets a call on his mobile and very loudly goes: "Mujhe Patni se phone aaya tha ... they need a penetration tester!"

Me and the guy in the next seat had to resort to holding our stomachs to stop. It was that hilarious. First thing I did when I got home was to look it up on the Wiki. And there it was - something to do with IT security. Bludy hell, you'd think they'd come up with a better name for it. I had a feeling it was IT related ... what else could Patni be into, but when you hear someone say it the first time it will totally have you rolling on the floor.

Any other such "embarrassing" jobs you guys know of? Do share.

***

What did I tell you about the markets? Crazy huh! Also crazy was the Kolkata Knight Riders win over the Super Kings last night. I bet Shahrukh threatened the lads with dire consequences -- Do or get done! ;)

***

Getting slightly philosophical now, I'd say there are only two ways to live your life -- Succumb, or Run like Hell. Even if it means running against the wind as the song goes.

From the soundtrack to Forrest Gump - Bob Seger. For our boy Eddie Hyde who recently also completed 6 long years of blogging. And though he can't claim to have as many wimmen fans as I do, I think he's pretty cool. Ride on brother!

I'd say one of the most annoying things for a guy is to be in the company of a woman who spends more time talking/texting/whatever-the-bludy-hell-they-do on her mobile phone than she does focused on him. I mean isn't there something called mobile-phone etiquette? No major catastrophe is going to befall whoever is on the other end of the line if you don't talk to them right this minute. But no, they will go on and on and on. Makes my blood boil.

I've had huge arguments with JC over this. To the extent that I've stopped taking her out. Because just as we're settling into a nice conversation some stupid friend or colleague of hers will call and in her words it's "not polite" to cut someone off. Not polite?? What about the person sitting in front of you? How about being polite to them for starters.

It's different with us guys. We don't do that. We're POLITE. If I'm with someone - girl or guy - and a friend/colleague/moron-I-don't-want-to-talk-to calls me I quickly say four things: What's up? Can it wait? If it can I'll call you later. If it can't it better be a matter of life and death. Baat khattam.

But what is it with women and mobile phones? It's like they'll die without them or something. Where I work I reckon anywhere between 10-15% of good productive office time is lost because of useless mobile phone chatter. Doesn't happen abroad I can tell you, though I can only talk about Switzerland because I spent a couple of months there in '07. People there hardly ever talk on their mobile phones at work ... in fact you wouldn't even know they were carrying their phones on them. But here at any given time depending on what kind of job you do (not applicable if you break stones for a living, but these days who knows) you will see a least 4-5 people, women mostly, yapping away like that's what they're being paid to do. It's totally ridiculous, I don't know how companies stand for it! Why don't they just ban mobile phones at work? Hell, we might even see the recession ending sooner. Think about it.

***

Sonia Gandhi sounded like such a mafiosi in her brief statement to the press yesterday where she said: "The people of this country know what is good for them". Nothing wrong with that statement per se, just the way she said it made me laugh.

But to those who feel that all we've done is help propagate the Congress's so called dynasty politics, I will say this: Look at the larger picture. I am not a fan of dynasty politics myself, but in a country like ours where power hungry cut-throats will do anything to get ahead, having people like the Gandhis around actually helps to keep things in check, whether you want to admit it or not. And so far it hasn't come in the way of a good man like Manmohan Singh. At least not that we can tell.

***

Will there be a 1,000 point rally on the markets tomorrow? I don't think so. But with the markets, as in politics, one never knows.

And why hasn't Advaniji been a man and conceded defeat publicly yet? Or does he think it's all a bad dream and he'll wake up tomorrow morning to find that the NDA has won it? You never know with someone who just 5 years ago proclaimed India was Shining.

Bob Marley - Stir it up. Funny thing about this song - for years we thought it was Stereo :)

Hahaha!!! Will you look at the news ... Rajdeep Sardesai is hyperventilating. And I bet Rupa is jumping for joy! Go Manmohan!!

As for the Mayawatis, Advanis, Karats and all them other rotten sonsofbitches who threatened to take our country right down the toilet, we the people have spoken -- FUCK OFF!

Fake IPL Player. Is not a player. That much I can bet my ass on. Probably some journalist/mediaperson with access to snippets of information coming out of the team. The rest he makes up.

And seeing how he's gone to such lengths to camouflage people's names (he's left it to us to figure out who's who, which I must say proved quite impossible in many cases) I can tell you he's scared shitless of getting in trouble, or perhaps losing his job. Why else would you call SRK 'dildo'? That's being too nice!

***

Sticking with the IPL, or the telecasts rather, I am bludy SICK of seeing those Airtel ads with Vidya Balan and that pilot bugger from Rang de Basanti. I mean Vidya is sweet and all, but dude have mercy! We know you can give us all kinds of shit at the click of a button (though personally I'd be happy just with better network coverage) but do you have to torture us with that same goddamn ad every 10 minutes? I'm referring to the horoscope one. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, wants their horrorscopes sms'ed to them on their mobile phones. Not unless you're a total damn loser.

And Vodafone haven't done any better with their so-called zoozoos either. Despite what everyone says I don't like them. For two reasons: First- they lack colour like a bunch of lab mice; and second- those horrible squeaking noises they make from their mouths or bums or wherever. After a while you just want to kill them depending on how irritated you are. Frankly I wouldn't mind clobbering a few of them zoozoos to death.

But the Kolkata Knight Riders - What has brought about such a bad run of form? It's as if someones gone and pulled out a few wires here and there. Like in that episode of Knight Rider where somebody sabotages Kitt (which is the talking computer inside the car) and Michael is left to fend for himself, and boy does he have a hard time. Michael Knight is another character I would have liked to have seen get killed more than once. Because it's really annoying when the good guy wins all the time, isn't it? Once in a while you want to see him get crushed under a truck or something.

And so I don't feel too bad about the Knight Riders losing the way they have been. It's the name and nothing else. If they were called the Kolkatta Kittens then maybe I'd have felt bad. Or maybe not ... I hate cats.

But the kid yesterday was telling me how emotional the public in Cal get about their sports(men). It's bad enough our Goan clubs been kicking their asses black n' blue - or should I say red - in football, but now bottom of the IPL! That must be just too much to take. Seems the watering holes down on Park Street even give out free beer whenever a local team wins ... ain't that somethin! And so I wonder what kind of reception Shahrukh will get ... if he ever dares to step foot there. I wouldn't mind seeing the bugger get slippered to be honest.

Must be a huge embarrassment though for the King of Bollywood don't you think, his team doing so badly. After all he's used to being on top. And I'm not talking about when he's doing the nasty with the Queen.

****

Ally called to find out what progress, if any, I've made on the matrimonial front. He says I better not waste time because now is when all the NRI's are on the prowl, so that they can get married in December. Which is a fact. We Macs prefer having our weddings in December so that we can club the Christmas vacations, wedding and honeymoon all in one. Get everything done with soon as you can. And I've seen that the chaps who come down from the States are usually the ones in the biggest hurry to get back .... probably because they gotta return those suits they bought from Macy's.

All that talk of ABBA on Parul's and I need to play me some. Thanks for all the blogversary wishes. You guys are awesome!

Sometimes I feel like we Indians are a billion orphans and our politicians the foster parents we cannot choose. We must live with who we get and hope they don't make our lives worse than it already is .

***

Just back from a night out on the town. Not everyday you meet a girl who can stand her poison, and I'm not talking them vodka drinking sissies. This girl was something else, so cute you'd want to take her home to your momma. Well, not quite - cuz in the one hour she was sitting next to me at the bar she finished a whole pack of Wills Navy Cut and downed god knows how many beers. But you gotta hand it to her - at the end of it all she was still standing. We talked about Goa and some other stuff I don't quite remember now, and for a girl who works with an airline I must say she was pretty smart. They're not all bimbos you know them airline types.

***

Blues over Troubled Waters is 6 today. Thanks for reading, for all the emails, the comments, the messages, and most of all - thanks for all the love.

Leave you with a bit of the blues - the great John Lee Hooker with Bonnie Raitt ... Rock these blues away.

Like a weary traveller with a bag full of burdens I stepped into St. Michael's this morning, and almost immediately a tremendous calm engulfed me; the voices of those 5 little girls in the choir like a soothing balm. I wanted to go up to them after mass, give them some money and say- Here, treat yourselves to some ice-cream or something, you girls were just divine! I did a lot of choirs in my time and it always seemed like such a headache, the practices and all, but now I know what it can do for that guy sitting quietly in the last pew with so much on his mind.

***

At the gymkhana last evening I saw the most beautiful couple dancing (later learnt they were both professional dance instructors). Every move so graceful, so effortless, so well synchronized. Musicians (more out of jealousy than anything else) jokingly say 'those who can't do, dance' but hell, I'll give anything to dance like that. Later CS and I hung out at Club IX, which is where people (poor Macs like us) who can't afford Poison and Zenji go to. I'd rather have gone to Janata and then to Toto's or Hawaiian (which is something even the rich farts do) but it was too late. We talked about how cool it would be start a club of our own, CS with his Abhishek Bachchan looks (actually he's a lot groovier than that arse AB) would draw in all the dames, and I'd handle the muzak. Because it really beats me how people can shake to some moron singing some shit about how he wants to fly so high ... over the rainbow. Or something like that.

Matchmaker aunty says there are 30 girls for every eligible guy. I laughed. And laughed. Unbelievable! But these girls of today are so fussy you know, says adds. Ally says they're not only fussy, they're mad! ... Dude did I tell you about that dame in the next building who named her dog Francis! LMAO

It was Ally's idea to take me to matchmaker aunty, btw. Do you mind a girl who earns more than you, asks she. Mind?? Hell no! What could be nicer than taking care of the home, learning to cook, listening to music full-volume on my Nakamichi while the missus toils all day in that corporate slavehouse she calls the office. I'll give her a foot massage every evening ... oh I bet she'll love that! No, seriously- why are men ashamed/insecure about their wives earning more than them? I think it's wonderful. And if I do turn out to be a great cook (which I bludy will) we could perhaps open a little restaurant or a club once she's got enough saved up. Hell, what a brilliant idea! I better tell matchmaker aunty to find me a girl who earns double what I earn. Even if it means having to bullshit about my salary.

***

Watched American Idol for the first time this season. Adam Lambert - I think he's smug, don't you? But he's good, I'll give him that. Not great, but good. How can you say that SwB - he's Adam Lambert! Well, you may think he's bludy Elvis Presley for all I care, I still won't say he's great. Cuz it takes a lot more than that to be great.

From their 1970 album Pendulum, Johnny "who'll stop the rain" Fogerty & CCR ... Pagan Baby. Do this Adam, I dare you!