Pig

I went to Kubay.

Ate lots of Fried Fish, Prawn Curry, Crab Curry, Manglorean Fish Curry, Onion Fish Curry, Idiappams, Neer Dosas and Caramel Custard.

I am such a pig.

Someone carry me to the treadmill please.

Grossed Out

There's this ad for some product that I don't remember.
It's got flabby sumo wrestlers flying about in the air with a Mithun type bollywood track playing in the back ground.
Maybe it appeals to the funny bones of some people
I get grossed out.

I found this article I'd written for the office newsletter stashed away somewhere on my laptop, thought it sure was funny enough to be posted on my blog so here it is:


It was exhaust fumes… especially in volumes so large that it would take two lifetimes for your lungs to get rid of them. It was exhaust fumes that made us decide it was time we should invest in a little tin box to end our transportation woes, now the question was which little tin box should it be, finally with a zillion recommendations and reviews buzzing in our brains, we got ourselves a nice dark blue Santro (blue I am told is the color or royalty). So the Santro is home, we are happy, end of story right?

Wrong. There was a teeny problem…. Yours truly didn’t know how to drive. However, the solution to this was quite simple. I would enroll in a driving school; master the fine art of navigating a four wheeled contraption through the world class roads
of Bangalore…. And it wouldn’t end there; the driving school would also ensure I get a license to drive (even if I flunked the test!). I did have a little trouble figuring out the best school (didn’t put in so much thought even for my MBA). I guess it was pure luck when I discovered Santro Driving School….from the sheer number of Santro’s parked out their office, they seemed to be the best if I had learn how to drive- you guessed it- a Santro. I am a firm believer in economies of scale, I convinced five other folks from office to enroll for driving class with me. However my hopes of getting a group discount were dashed to the ground, all we walked away with were three free classes. When we enrolled, all of us were given strict orders to first obtain our learner’s licenses and then begin with the lessons. We were asked to go to the RTO at 11 am with one pre-filled form and we were assured a million times, everything else would be taken care of. We staggered in at the RTO between 11 am and 12 pm-expecting a quick 15 minute test and the
learner’s license in our possession. A quick look at the serpentine queue and we realized that optimism had no place in this world! After all the standing and hopping from one foot to another to take the pain off my aging knees, I reached the RTO officer’s desk only to told to pay up Rs. 250 for some affidavit to prove that I live in Bangalore. I was in half a mind to give them an innovation award just for their creativity in finding new ways to get their palms greased!! Anyway at the end of the day, I was the proud owner of a learner’s license.

My scheduled 15 day classes begin,
Day 1: my instructor arrives in a Bright red car. I think- all for the best, red indicates danger, if I am driving, this is the best way to clear the roads. My classes begin with my instructor berating me for my lack of balance with the steering wheel. I wonder why should I be balancing anything, it’s a four wheeler for heaven’s sake, it should balance itself. I ask my instructor- he looks absolutely amazed with this
Day 2: I learn more about balance, I also learn how to sit through a constant volley of instructions with an ‘I have attained
Nirvana’ look on my face.
Day 3- Nirvana look doesn’t work- instructor believes I can’t understand a thing he says. Every 30 seconds I hear- ‘Kuch
samajh mein aa raha hai kya?’ (Do you understand anything?). I say yes and decide time to change my strategy
Day 4- Instructor calls me in the morning to check if I would attend the lesson that afternoon. I question the necessity of
checking on me every morning if we have decided on a pre-determined schedule for the next 15 days. Maybe I can learn something about follow-up
Day 5: Nirvana look not working at all. Instructor says I am supposed to enjoy driving and not look stoned. His logic, I can’t really be a good driver until I learn to enjoy driving.
Day 6: I change expression- I smile for every instruction- I am supposed to look like I enjoy driving. Instructor asks if he’s said
anything funny, wants to know why I am laughing
Day 7: I have progressed to use of clutch, brake and accelerator. I almost knock down a woman- (I was really enthusiastic
about the accelerator bit) Instructor sternly tells me- ‘Kisi ko udana ho toh pehle mujhe bata do’ (if you want kill someone,let me know first)
Day 8: Lessons progress to changing gears- It’s a multitasking nightmare for me. I get several severe reprimands; I am now
beginning to wonder why I chose to do this Day 9: I am in dire straits- can never remember all the zillion different things I am supposed to do, to either start the car or stop it. Never was any good at hand-eye co-ordination
Day 10: Instructor looks irritable- bad sign. I am wondering if I really need those 3 extra classes
Day 11-13: It all seems to be coming together, I actually get a hang of the technique or so I think. I enthusiastically ask the instructor if I am getting good at driving. He says no…. Bangalore roads are not safe yet.
Day 14: All I can think of is- last two classes. No more driving around in the hot midday sun. Even better, no more of being
asked ‘Do you understand?’
Day 15- Freedom at long last! No more school. According to my instructor, I do drive well. I only manage to gawk in surprise
at the transition from being unsafe for Bangalore roads to being a good driver in a mere two days.

More Evidence

I was shampooing my hair this morning and mysteriously the shampoo bubbles came out of my nostril.

More evidence that my skull cavity is empty.