When in Dubai you get the feeling that one of the things people (the expatriates I'm talking about) fear most is going 'inside', second only I think to deportation. At first I didn't quite get what this inside business was, but then they explained -- Inside as in andar ... the slammer, prison, jail, lock-up, whatever you want to call it.

And from what I was given to understand, what could get you inside is everything from breaking smelly wind in the Metro to credit card default to driving your car onto the pavement after one too many or even not walking straight after one too many, to laughing loudly at this big illuminated billboard on Sheikh Zayed Road that reads www.OurFatherZayed.ae. Actually it was not the billboard itself but the joke that went with it which sounds like the Lord's Prayer: Our Father Zayed, we art in debt ...

To, as we learn today - sending suggestive text messages to a member of the opposite sex. Hmmm...

Therefore I'm sure the question most Dubai residents are now asking is what can and can we not text? But not wanting to take any chances I reckon people will start to cleverly disguise their messages henceforth. Like one to the paramour with whom its been a while -- Baby you game for a few rounds of tiki puka puka** this evening!

Oh and lookie what we have here, also in Dubai -- I bet these two tried everything possible to keep it indoors till sheer frustration forced one of them to say - Let's go outside!



**Those of you Gulfie folk never tried a Tiki Puka Puka head over to the nearest Trader Vic's and do so. Not a big rum drinker myself, but I have to say the 151º Jamaican stuff they put in it can get you quite excited!

Up in the Air is such a brilliant movie. At the end of it you realize life is like playing on a see-saw: By yourself all you get is the lows ... the highs come only with company. Even if it's the bottle.

Simon & Garfunkel.

So it's like this -- I ride a 16 year old Yamaha which I love very much, but if someone offered me a quickie on a 2010 Ducati, wouldn't I be tempted? Which is pretty much what the guys at Emotional Atyachaar are doing. You send a hot little number to work her charms on some poor sod and he will not just fall into the trap, he will jump right into it.

Most of the time it's just about sex. Ask any of the guys who got caught why they did it and I bet their answer will be only to get some. After the act they'd be only too happy to go back to their girlfriends of three years or five years or even ten years as was the case with one couple.

Compare that with the American show Cheaters on which the desi version is based and there is one very important difference -- the other women/men there are not planted by the shows production team; they are people the suspected cheaters are actually involved/having affairs with.

So is Emotional Atyachaar being fair? I don't think so. Just because I want to ride that big blazing Ducati doesn't make me love my Yamaha any less. Because the key to remember is that right now I know I can never own that monster.

And what this will do is put the fear of hidden cameras and hot booty in most men with girlfriends/wives. Which is why the show in this case won't go on for very long. Because now if approached by a beautiful woman there are only two possibilities: either she is very desperate, or, you are going to star in the next episode of EA! And there is no way to tell the difference. Better safe than screwed, they will all say. (pun intended of course)

***

I could really feel the heat today ... with summer approaching I mean. Looks like we're in for a scorcher.

Some of the old timers here may know this one. From 1989, a band that used to call themselves Heart -- All I wanna do is make love to you.

Some hearts can never be given - like a song you can listen to anytime but cannot download.

But they can still be broken.

1411?

Now that is bound to upset some people. Because the correct figure should be 1414. Yes, how could they leave out the three that rule the city of Mumbai - the three that have been roaring very loudly in recent times, making every outsider who has encroached on their territory well aware of who's boss.

But jokes apart, how did they arrive at the number? Because from what I know you'd have more luck catching Katrina Kaif scratching her rear in public than spotting a tiger in the wild. I could say there are just 156 left and they'd have a hard time disproving me.

And what is this Join the Roar nonsense? Something some over-creative adwalla came up with after seven or eight Old Monks I reckon. Because how is joining the roar going to save the tiger? As if some poacher in Ranthambore is going to think twice before he lays his next trap, -- you know what, there are 75380 people "roaring" on some website ... maybe I should just let this one go and find myself a 'real' job. I don't think so.

A better idea would be, you know, to 'Adopt a Tiger'. Now there's something that'll have plenty of takers ... among the rich and lamous of course, these being what you might call collectors items. Pay a certain amount every month or every year and receive regular updates on how your tiger is doing. You could even have the option of naming the beast and visiting him when he's feeling friendly. Before you know it, it will become the new status symbol and a topic of socialite conversation -- Ohh my Sheroo is doing so well ... I'm paying extra so that he gets only prime rib. -- Mine is vegetarian, we being Jain and all ... but I make sure he gets twice the amount of soya!

Surely better than spending all that money buying some outfit you're only going to wear once, or a handbag designed by some French cross-dresser.

I know. I really am in the wrong line of work.

***

From All the Roadrunning, Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris -- I dug up a diamond. For Deb.

I may not be his biggest fan but for this I give him a thumbs up. His buddy Johar I'm sure would have wasted no time apologizing and might even have gone a step further to prove his love for the Marathi Manoos by offering to rename his next project to My name is Karandikar.

And why is it still being called Bollywood? Shouldn't it be Mollywood now that Bombay is Mumbai and has been for so long? Something the supremos at the SS and MNS might want to take up.

I think the only way to teach the blighters a lesson would be for every non-Maharashtrian in Mumbai to pack his bags and leave the city for some time. It would be fun to see what will become, or rather what will be left, of the Mumbai the self-appointed torchbearers of Marathi pride so vehemently claim is 'theirs'. Even more fun would be to see the local IPL team, the Mumbai Indians, playing on a new home ground somewhere in Gujarat.

***

The Everly Brothers from way back when -- When will I be loved. Which I suspect is the lament of most Biharis, Bhaiyyas, and what have you in the great city of Bombay.

Love used to be a whisky on the rocks; now it is a complicated cocktail very few of us know how to mix.

The Hollies with a song from a time when life was simple and love simpler -- The air that I breathe.

For T. Thank you for a wonderful day.

The fact is when a soldier goes into battle he thinks more about coming out alive than how many men he's going to kill.

And all those medals you show off proudly on your chest in peacetime won't make any difference the next time you step into the line of fire. Each battle is its own - each victory; each defeat. Each life; each death.

***

The Gypsy Kings with a song I absolutely love. Makes me want to get up an dance (if only I could). For a very awesome 36 year old. Fight on soldier.

It used to be something we could call our own. For the boys only. Until one day they changed their logo and started making panties. And bras and camisoles. Jockey for Her they called it. Which was kinda like saying Victoria's Secret for Him.

At the time the reaction from most Jockey loyalists (myself included) was, -- What the...! This is Jockey we're talking about dude - they invented the Y-Front for cryin' out loud! Hell, we might as well call them panties from now on instead of jocks.

So why did Jockey go girlie? To push up sales, given what they say that wimmen buy upto three times more underwear than men? (Which I will believe because they even have separate underwear drawers, whereas we just stuff ours into a corner behind our socks). Or was there an ingenious marketing idea behind the whole decision?

I always thought it was the first, but now I think it's both. After I saw this girl in the cafeteria the other day whose very low jeans revealed her knickers with JOCKEY printed in big bold letters on the waistband. One look and it all made sense -- there is something very sexy about a woman in jocks.

And you know what the sad part is -- they look sexier on them than on us!

But how do you think the idea was born? Could be anything, but the odds lean strongly in favour of the possibility that some woman somewhere wore our underwear! Shame on y'all.

***

Which is why when they say, what is your big idea? I say no, -- what is your small idea? ;)

For Rakhi. Bono and the lovely ladies from The Corrs -- When the stars go blue.

When you decide to take charge of your own destiny you better be damn sure you're up to the job.

***

But first it's important to know what it is you really want -- What is the 'real thing', as Syl has so beautifully put it in her New Year post. Because unless you do that you'd find yourself struggling to get behind the wheel of a Maserati when a Honda would do just fine.

First Monday of 2010. Kick it off with Kid Rock -- For Syl and all you guys been reading the Blues for years and years. Roll on!