Indians will do anything for money

Just look at this guy.


And not to be left behind, look at this lady. #Feminism

I say Indians will do anything for money secure in the knowledge that I too am an Indian and will do anything for money (except work). For instance, I would be completely at ease making wild bets using other people’s pension money.

Jump to: A few years later/ chickens coming home to roost.

In my defence, they KNEW their investments were subject to market risk and even if the government tried to protect the retirement funds by imposing limitations on what I could invest in using pension money, the financial industry was canny and patriotic enough to protect MY freedom by mixing and matching a few things and flipping the risky into the not-so-risky (at least on paper). So don’t blame me. Blame the lawmakers.

To the pensioners hounding me: Leave me alone. What I did was completely within the bounds of the law.   

To the fraud investigators: Leave me alone. Go catch some bigger fish, those trading on material nonpublic information for instance.

To the tv media: Fuck you, you trp-hungry muppets.

To the print media: You can’t survive without ad revenue.


Fantastic Mr. Stokes


Hear that on repeat at least three times before you proceed any further. It’s of utmost importance. The importance of you doing that can’t be overstated. The mission if you choose to accept is to follow everything I say.

Last Saturday evening, lord lord lord
Last Saturday evening, lord lord lord

I went to the stadium, lord lord lord
I went to the stadium, lord lord lord

And I took along my placard, lord lord lord
I took along my placard, lord lord lord

Along came Jesus, lord lord lord
Along came Jesus, lord lord lord

So I picked up my placard, lord lord lord
And he hit one over, lord lord lord

He was bowled soon after, lord lord lord
But he had done enough, lord lord lord

He came on to bowl, lord lord lord
And he took a wicket first up, lord lord lord

He took another wicket, lord lord lord
And he took another wicket, lord lord lord

The main batsmen were all gone, lord lord lord
And he took some more catches, lord lord lord

I went home happy, lord lord lord
I went home happy, lord lord lord

That’s the story of big Ben Stokes, lord lord lord
That’s the story of big Ben Stokes, lord loooord looooorrrrd.

Vivo IPL 2017 M44 - SRH v RPS

Now stare at the photo while listening to this song.




The passing game

Would you like to go sailing?
I don’t know, I can’t swim.
You’ll be fine, I’ll get you a life jacket.

Would you like to go for a drive?
I don’t know, I can’t drive.
What do you mean you can’t drive? Everyone I know is either over 18 and driving legally or under 18 and driving illegally.

Would you like to dance?
I don’t know. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t dance to THIS music.
Ok, what kind of music do you dance to? We can put that on.
The kind no one else dances to? Please don’t ruin the evening for others on my account. Look at them. They definitely like this music. Don’t change it… on my account. I’m fine just standing by myself.

In fact, acting lonely and bored is my favorite trick to pull at social gatherings. You wouldn’t believe the amount of pleasure I derive from being a sore thumb.

There are two kinds of socializing; one that leaves you drained and one that leaves you energized. I’m sad to say but this is of the former variety. I can’t wait to go back home and regret coming here.

You look awfully lonely. Would you like something to drink? Name your poison.
I shouldn’t, really. I am just out of rehab.

It’s too bright in here, if only it were darker. The number of people isn’t right. It seldom is. There are always either too many or too few. In this case, there are too few. There aren’t enough attractive people.

There are too many attractive people. Attractive people make me self-conscious.

I am too tall, I can’t get lost in the crowd like everyone else. What others see as a blessing, I see as a curse. That’s my superpower. Natural talent is nothing but an albatross around the neck.

I don’t like being the center of attention. I don’t know how the actors do it. I’m thinking I should join an acting class. I could be the next De Niro and shit, you never know.

Would you like a drink?
I shouldn’t, I’m expecting.
Haha, very funny.

Hey Tommy, come over here. We’ve got a funny one.
(Tommy comes over) Go on then, tell us a joke.
My name Jeff.

Tommy: Give us another one.
I try to post on Facebook at least once every two weeks because if I don’t the rights revert back to Marvel.

(Would you like to live?
I don’t know. I’m not immortal.)


Learning French via Kendrick

Martin avait un reve
Martin avait un reve
Kendrick avoir un reve

Toute ma vie je veux de l’argent et le pouvoir
respecter mon esprit ou mourir de la douche de plomb
Je prie ma verge obtenir grand que la tour Eiffel
donc je peux foutre du monde pendant soixante-dix deux heures

Putain je me sens incroyable, putain je suis dans la matrice
mon esprit vit sur un nuage neuf et ce neuf est jamais en vacances
Demarre ce Maserati et vroom vroom, Je cours
de prendre des pilules dans le hall et je prie qu’ils ne trouvent pas nue
et je vous prie de negros hait, tireurs aller apres Judas
Jesus Christ si je vis ma vie sur mes genoux, ne sont pas pas besoin de faire cela
gggarer en face de Leuders, a cote de cette Church’s Chicken
tous les laches est perdants, tous mes negros sont gagnants, hurlant

Toute ma vie je veux de l’argent et le pouvoir
respecter mon esprit ou mourir de la douche de plomb
Je prie ma d*** obtenir grand que la tour Eiffel
donc je peux foutre du monde pendant soixante-dix deux heures

This is just the first verse from Kendrick’s ‘Backseat Freestyle’ which you can listen to here, and find the English lyrics here.

(Before you get any ideas and form any opinions, let me say I relied on google translate. My French is barely beginner. Salut, au revoir, bonjour, around that level.)


Vous Parlez

On a Delta Airlines flight from Dallas to Des Moines, sitting next to each other are a late-twenties Indian looking guy and an early thirties Chinese looking guy. The Chinese looking guy is absorbed in his Wall Street Journal and is minding his own business, the Indian looking guy is having trouble keeping his head still. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was his job to memorise all the faces of his co-passengers. But he’s got that excitement about him, so it couldn’t be work. He may be visiting Des Moines for the first time inspired by what Jack Kerouac had to say about the girls of Des Moines. I would have been just as excited in that scenario, but no, he doesn’t have the face of a person who’s into books; everyone’s into looks. He has the face of a person who lives an unexamined life.

I: Say, may I have the sports page?

C: Excuse me?

I: Ah, nevermind.

I: I recently spent a month in China, away on work. I was analyzing the pollution levels, you see. I work for the Environmental agency here and they sent a few of us over there to see just how bad they’ve got it. Thomas Friedman wrote an op-ed about it, about the pollution in Chinese cities. I guess you don’t read the New York Times, seeing how you’re reading the Wall Street Journal. Anyway, I explored quite a lot of your country. I visited some 15 of the 22 provinces. Pretty extensive, right? Now tell me, which part of China you are from and be amazed by how much I know about your place. I don’t mean to embarrass you with my depth of knowledge but that’s a possible side-effect.

C: Pardon?

I: I was asking which part of China you’re from..

C: (sternly) I am from Virginia.

I: (thinks for a while) Damn, I am sorry. This is so typical, isn’t it?

C: (dismissively) It isn’t, actually.

I: Well, it is. You think you are an expert in a subject, you boast about it, and then bam! you are knocked out cold in the first round. There’s always this little thing you somehow look over, and when the moment of reckoning arrives, that little thing comes up and brings down the whole edifice.

C: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I: Virginia! Which part of China that I overlooked is it in?

C: *blank stare*

I: I’m just kidding with you. I know where Virginia is. You from the CIA?

Cut to black.

//The challenge was to convert a little joke into a little blogpost. Does Delta airlines operate between Dallas and Des Moines? Je ne sais pas.



More than prose?

My aim in life is to wean girlfriends away from their boyfriends, wives from their husbands, moms from their babies, single mothers from their duties, fiancees from their engagements, recently-divorced from their new found freedom, old widows from their loneliness, young widows from their grief, princesses from their fathers, college girls from their seniors, sub-urban ladies from boredom, angels from heaven, secretaries from their bosses, celibates from their vows, small town girls from their innocence, rich farm girls from their horses, nuns from their god, medical students from their books, Lolitas from Humbert Humberts.

Monogamy ceases to exist and fidelity loses its meaning with me in the vicinity.  The rules of civility go out the window and so do dignity and self-respect. I am the humble body spray as imagined by marketers.

I acknowledge Moms from their babies is going to be the biggest challenge but I am in the business of shooting for the stars and seducing the bride on her wedding day.

I stay away from only one type of a female, and that too as a matter of principle; who in their right mind would try to wean a lesbian from her girlfriend?


Markets are the darndest things

They react as if promises made are promises fulfilled, as if policies in consideration are policies in existence since time immemorial. They tend to predict the future and act as if they are a part of that very future which they create. Markets always exist in their own little parallel universes, and the politicians in order to appease the markets, go about setting agenda designed to fix the problems of those alternate universes, and invariably end up hurting those in the real world.

A case:

“The incoming Prime Minister has proposed weakening the yen to stimulate exports. Though the money markets are nervous of direct central government action towards that end, Mr. Abe’s statements themselves may have helped cause the yen to slide by 6 per cent between early November and the election date.”

As you can see, the phenomenon of telekinesis seems to be well grounded in the world of economics. Don’t know about you, but all this reminds me of Rian Johnson’s Looper. Also, I can now see why Paul Krugman decided to take up a profession in Economics after reading a series of sci-fi novels written by Isaac Asimov.


Song of the day

How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me.

Its like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can’t read, just yet.

You gotta spend some time, love. You gotta spend some time with me,

and I know that you’ll find love, I will possess your heart.

The Punch


You’re not the movies that you watch

You’re not the quotes that you quote

You’re not the things that you like

You’re not your FB profile.

You’re not the status message you use as bait

You’re not the smileys you use as a shield

You’re not the fake guffaws you convey

You’re not your Gtalk avatar.

You’re not your music library

You’re not the songs that you scrobble

or the songs that you love

You’re not your top artists

Stop flaunting your page like it was you.

You’re not the 140 characters you limit yourself to

You’re not the tweets that you retweet

You’re not the sly DMs that you send (looking at you Weiner)

Your value is not correlated to the number of followers you have.

You’re not the mails you compose

You’re not the replies and the fake composure

You’re not the mails you prioritise

You’re just fucking spam.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake

You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else

We are all a part of the same compost heap.

Artcic Monkey (intervening): Er.. thank you Tyler, but don’t you realize you’re just a hallucination of a nameless guy who’s got an imaginary gun stuck in his awkwardly open mouth?

The Social Experiment

The Notice:

” Anyone willing to allow a 6ft stranger into their living room to watch the Champions League final. I promise to not only behave but also support whichever team you support.

Cheers,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        22 yr old from c2-1102 (you may contact me using the intercom or the elevator)”

//End of notice//

If anyone does reply, I totally plan to not go empty-handed. I’ll go bearing gifts, i.e snacks and drinks (but I didn’t put it up there in the notice since I didn’t want to sound too, for lack of a better word, desperate).

The Chances:

There are 7 blocks, with a notice board serving each one. 800 families is the tentative count, but since the community is relatively new and not all apartments are taken, let’s assume there are 500 families right now.

The proportion of football viewing families goes up as you move up the economic ladder, don’t you think? So, let’s say, 1/4th of these families are into the game. The chances of anyone looking at their notice board are pretty slim, marginal in fact. Let’s go with an optimistic 1/20, anyway. Of the football viewing families who do glance at the notice board, lets say 1/5 are comfortable with having a stranger over (keep in mind that the stranger I speak of is a part of their “community” and thereby a lesser stranger).

Also, take into account the fact that I don’t have a printer and moreover don’t intend to write the notice 7 times over. I’ll probably just go for one and hurt my chances. (This one block which I’m a part of can accommodate 130 families and presumably 75 are in.)

Doing the math, the chances of me getting invited to a stranger’s house to watch the Champions league final between Barcelona and Manchester United (thank you God) will be…………. 0.1875 families. That’s less than 1, isn’t it? I know where this notice is going.