I love looking at photoblogs. In fact I'm gonna start one soon. No hang on - I already have one! But I'm gonna get me one of them supercool Canon IXUS cameras next month. Tiny little things they are .... good for taking sneaky shots of the dames.

So I was checking out Tanu's photoblog (something tells me she hates being called Tanu!) just now and she's got this one snap called Waiting for Irani Chai. And I remembered something that cracked me up! It's something not too many people know.

Irani chai. We all love Irani chai, don't we? Yeah, well - I was working out in my old gym one morning when I happened to get talking to this chap Ali. Ali's family used to run one of the biggest, most popular Irani restaurants in town (it is now an Adidas showroom). Somehow the topic turned to chai and I happened to ask Ali -- How the hell do you get your tea to taste like that, man? He smiles at me and says -- Egg whites!

I go, What??

Yeah man, we use egg whites.

What do you mean we use egg whites?

We add egg whites to the tea, dude.

You gotta be bludy shittin' me ... what about the vegetarians?

Ali breaks out into a loud laugh which is characteristic of them crazy sonsofbitches and says -- Screw the vegetarians!

Bludy hell man, you mean you buggers have been selling non-vegetarian tea for generations and nobody knows! :)

Ali didn't seem to care. But now you know the secret ingredient in Irani chai. And don't bother asking your neighbourhood Irani restaurant owner. He'll just deny it, the rascal.

***

O.K. This has got to be the craziest shit I've read in recent times. The girl is just too much. Cunning Linguists indeed! :)

More of Tracy.



Peace, love, and closely guarded secrets.

Worst part of quitting your job is the handing over. You'd think them managers sitting around on their asses all day with their bludy laptops would have a back-up plan in place. But no, they believe in learning to swim when you're drowning!

To my bad luck I have to hand over to Bhopal Gas Leak Bengali. Who is so goddamn slow you'd think he's got Parkinsons. All he does is keep talking on the phone the whole time in that funny language to God knows who. Tell him to come in on Saturday and he gives me a look like he's got some marathon make-out session planned with Mrs. Gas Leak.

You know what - I am a freakin' valuable resource!

So here I am at bludy midnight making notes for Gas Leak, so the fool won't get stuck when the pressure builds up.

Sent the Butterfly an email telling her I was leaving. No reply.

Calling it a night with Tracy then. It's a good thing I got her for company. Don't you know you better run run run run run run run run... :)

It's funny how life can pick you up like a hurricane, toss you around and leave you lying wounded, thrashed and broken on unfamiliar ground.

***

So many of us sitting behind little computer screens hoping to find that one thing that's missing. That one thing that will make everything okay. And just when you think you've found it, another hurricane strikes and you're back to square one.

***

What can be sadder than wanting to stay back at work because there's nothing and no one to go home to. Except that bottle of beer in the fridge.

***

A song. For someone who's brought me so much joy these past months. She may never be the one waiting to greet me when I get home after a hard day at work, but I know she will always be that bottle of beer in the fridge.

And perhaps that's all I really need.

Ever since we were kids we were taught the importance of good food and a healthy balanced diet. Why so many (professionally managed) organisations prefer to ignore this aspect of employee satisfaction is something I don't understand.

We were talking about it yesterday, the lads and I. Bad food leads to indigestion. Indigestion leads to more frequent visits to the toilet; that in turn means higher housekeeping costs and expenditure on incidentals like air-fresheners and toilet-paper. And employees spending more time than they should in the loo directly reduces the time spent on the job, thereby affecting output and productivity.

But probably the worst after-effect of bad food is the gas leaks. People with indigestion are going to fart. And fart a lot. It's amazing how one bad meal can turn a nice air-conditioned meeting-room into something that feels like the aftermath of the Bhopal gas disaster! It happened last week. New Bengali guy in our team was firing away like a rocket-launcher. Now I don't mean to imply that Bengalis fart more than others ... in fact we Goans are notorious farters, but if you have to fart that much, get your ass to the loo and start a mini Chernobyl there, dude ... don't bludy kill us in a 8x6 meeting-room!

And if they can't improve the food they should at least give people some tips on how to fart without anybody getting affected. Include it in that little company booklet they hand out to new joinees. There are lots of ways y'know to conceal them toxic emissions. One is to join your legs tightly together and do it right there in your chair. Which is what a lot of people do. Only problem is fart gas has a large element of mystery associated with it, in that you never know what's coming. If the stink is really awful even your legs joined tightly together may not be able to contain it. Then you're in for. The person in the next cubicle will go, SHIT! was that you??, before making a dash for it. And when they see you pressing your bum into your chair, you're caught red-arsed! So a better thing to do is to let off a small sample first, test the air, and if it's not too bad, release the entire payload.

But I will never recommend doing it in your chair. For one reason -- your boss! Blues, I just want to have a look at this file on your computer; it won't open on mine. Errrr just a minute, Sir ... You can't sit in my chair because I just farted!

The best thing to do is go to the loo and release there. But even there you hope to find the loo empty, so you don't have to worry about anybody telling on you. Which generally never happens. So you're left having to resort to the silencer technique - which is holding lots of tissue-paper to your backside to muffle the sound.

Then one of the guys comes up with a brilliant idea -- Farting Areas! Like how we have Smoking Areas. Where you can just go and let off them bombs without having to worry about the stink and the noise and the collateral damage. Yeah baby, here it comes ... Oohhh that one was killer!!

Actually the farting areas and the smoking areas could be one. An interesting combination of fumes that will be!

***

Good food. It all comes down to good food.

O.K. For those of you got those mid-week blues, here are the Blues Brothers with Sweet Home Chicago. Wonder why they call it the Windy City! :)

For G

no one can hurt you now
but yourself
and no one can love you more
than yourself

I can wipe away your tears
but only you can make them stop

Sunday morning with the great Don Henley. Didn't have a very successful solo carreer after The Eagles, did he Donny boy? Only track I think made it to the charts was The end of the innocence. And this one ... The boys of summer.



I so feel like going to Goa next weekend. Actually I just might.

***

Potter's back. Or rather he will be back soon. So what's it this time -- Harry and the Whore with the hairy legs?? I hear book 7 is already out on the internet. No big deal really - just a few million quid less for the Englishwoman. But it seems most people would rather not know how poor Harrry meets his unfortunate (fortunate for some) end before they read the book. If I were them I wouldn't expect anyting too dramatic ... he probably just falls off his flying broomstick while straining dangerously to get a better look at some chicks' lady-bumps.

***

Cannes Film Festival. I thought that stuff was intended to showcase the films, not so much the stars. But put on the news and all you see is our Bollywood cowboys walking up and down the red carpet. And looking at Babyshek and Bahushek you'd think they're bludy Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta!

I hear Richard Gere's gonna be on the next Coffee with K Jo. This time it's not Gere I'm worried about, it's Karan! What will the moral police say if our boy lunges from his chair and tries to kiss Dick?


***

A season of upsets it is turning out to be in the sporting world. First India beating Bangladesh in the One Day series, then Man. United losing to the Blues in yesterdays English FA Cup ... only thing left now is for Nadal to kick Federer's ass!

BFN.

I went there half expecting to find a bunch of ruffians. Instead what I found were the most affectionate bunch of kids I've seen in a long time. How their parents could abandon them on railway platforms and on deserted street corners is something I don't understand.

A thought that came to me when I was watching them go about their fun and games -- Can these kids ever make it out of here? I mean can they ever come up to par with kids who have everything? So much of the effort that goes into helping abandoned children focuses on making things better for them where they are. What about helping them cross over to where we are?

That is why it's one thing taking chocolates for them and giving them nice clothes to wear and organizing games for them on weekends ... it's quite another putting in a long term effort to ensure that they can one day apply for the same jobs kids from normal backgrounds can. That is what I believe needs to be done.

And that is what I hope we can do. The plan is to teach them English and other things they don't learn in school (they all study in the local government Marathi school) so that they know what's out there and can go for it if they want to. It's going to demand a lot from me and there will be times I wish I had never bothered. But I know it will give me greater satisfaction than all the money I earn during my lifetime. I just pray I am able to go through with it.

***

Damn, I wish I had my camera-phone today. Those happy faces were simply a joy to see. Especially that of Nicola - around 1 year old, found by the railway police in a gutter beside a locomotive shed with bit marks all over her body. Human bite marks.

Then there was Mohini. 11 years old. The child of an unwed mother. So pretty and with such poise you'd think she was studying in a good convent school. And what a excellent dancer. I was simply amazed by the Kajrare performance she put on for us. Shudder to think what might have become of her were she left where she was.

The stories go on. I hope they all have a happy ending.

***

This other bigger boy just finished his board exams likes music a lot. So he brings out his junk guitar and plays a few chords for me. Where did you learn, I asked him. On my own, he says. I ended up giving him a half-hour guitar lesson. And he kept looking at me like I was Steve Vai. I bet he's still practicing.

Y'know, this all is not something I had planned to share with everyone here. Because there will be those who say, 'Blues wants to show the ladies what a nice guy he is'. Reason I've done this post is because I'd like some inputs/suggestions/advice from those of you who have been involved in similar endeavours. My friend RD and I now have to sit down and plan how we're going to go about this. Neither of us know much about kids. I for one never quite liked them.

There was something very romantic about Bombay 400001 in the 70's and early 80's. I was little but I remember it still. The polyester shirts, the sideburns, the bell-bottoms, the music, the dancing, the fun. People back then didn't need cable TV and Internet and iPods to keep themselves entertained. They had each other.

Goa Street, Karvar Street, Kumta Street, St. John the Evangelist Church ... it was all happening. My mum used to drag me across the road to the GPO almost everyday to post them letters to my dad who was in the Gulf. I still remember how she used to start every letter with 'My dearest darling ...'

Even back then I used to wonder: what the hell does she have to write about so often? ... So much love.

The Goan girls were all either secretaries or working with the Times or Free Press. And on weekends they'd have these rocking parties. The music would be Boney M and ABBA and Bacara and Lulu. Surprisingly stuff like Pink Floyd and Queen weren't too popular back then in India.

My mum used to hang out at Leopold's, can you believe? LOL They lived in a 12x10 room on P. D'Mello Road but they never found it small. Let any number of people come over, there was always place. For the hearts were big.

I feel like going back there next weekend. Just to get back some of that romance. But something tells me I will come away disappointed.

Not too many here born in the 70's I know. This is for all you who were ... and in a special way for a girl called Tanuja.

My man Zypsy has broken my heart. Broken my heart, he has. For it is now confirmed -- Aerosmith is not performing in BOM. The music loving public of the city of Mumbai will never forget this act of betrayal Mr. Steve "Madman" Tyler.

And who the hell's gonna listen to him in Bungalooroo anyway - Narayan Murthy??

But we shall have our revenge. For news has it that WE - are getting the Red Hot Chilly Peppers ... Muahahaha :)

***

Thanks very much for all the blogversary wishes. You guys are awesome! Big party at Saltwater Grill when the Blues turns five okay.

Very surprised to learn recently that this humble blog has caught the eye of one of one of India's biggest advertising agencies. Yeah, they are offering me the big bucks (finally some money!) to promote a product of a major FMCG company. There's just one problem - they want me to rename this to Clinic All Clear Blues Over Troubled Waters.

You think I should go for it? The money involved is substantial.

***

I was browsing through RBC yesterday when I stumbled upon this one. God, it brought back so many great memories! One of the first songs we played in the band way back when we were in school. I used to be so jealous of my brother on that big Gibson EB2 bass guitar ... he was so small but he kicked ass on the bass, he really did. And we totally loved this song.

Huge huge hit from 1989, this is Chris Rea - The Road to Hell. For my brother. You rock kid ... always did!

RD's back from the US. He's been with Microsoft for nearly 10 years. And now he doesn't want to make any more money. He wants to help street children live a better life, become productive citizens. I've offered to help him.

***

I went to watch a movie yesterday. Alone. Some girls from the office happened to be there. I noticed a couple of weird looks ... yeah I have no one to take to a movie. I could have asked the Butterfly but I just wanted to see this one alone. Guy and girl sitting next to me were starting to get cozy but something about me seemed to put them off. Perhaps it shows on my face - that I have become so hard ... so cold. Maybe those street kids will help me change.

***

The movie - Metro. I liked those three guys who show up between scenes, singing and playing their guitars (borrowed that from There's something about Mary, haven't they?). For what would our lives be without music. I know I would be dead.

Konkona put in a really good performance. I mustn't forget to tell her. We've got a mutual admiration thing going here - she reads my blog, I watch her movies. The movie itself - well, considering the director had to take the lives of so many people and weave them into a two hour film, I'd say he's done a pretty good job.

***

I just remembered that May 11th completed four years that this blog has been in existence. Four years in which so much has changed ... and yet so much remains the same.

Some Dire Straits today. For all the lives who have touched me in some way or the other these past four years - it's been a wonderful journey. For PB, Madcap, michelle, Zen, Sandhya, Bunny, Liselle, Aakanksha, OrangeCloud and all those who were my very first blog buddies. And how can I forget my man Manu - he's been around almost as long as I have. I know he likes this song ... Telegraph Road.



~ Ain't no dark till something shines! ~