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Learning vowels the SOTY way

October 19, 2012 Leave a comment

I was trying to figure out the inspiration behind the composition of the recent song – “Ishq waala Love” from the movie SOTY.

And then I came across motivation in the form of a fantastic spoof of the song by some creative artists on you-tube (here). Common sense tells you that some grammatical rules need to be followed while constructing the key phrases that form the song viz.

  1. The phrase must consist of exactly 3 words – 2 nouns and a preposition
  2. The preposition must be either a waala or a waali
  3. The 2 nouns must represent related objects (physical or abstract) and may be in 2 different languages

After laying a few ground rules mentioned above one can create his/her own version of such stupidity. Below are some examples:

A
Shoe waala joota
Dog waala kutta
Pandu waala mama
Dhondu waala pajama
Highway waala khadda
Vicky donor waala Chadda

E
Dance waala pole
Dark waala hole
Scam waala crore
(Yeh dil maange more)

I
Doodh waali gaai
Neend waali chai
Colour waali holi
Support waali choli
Rubber waali choti
Silk waali langoti

O
Phone waala hello
Goa waala D’Mello
Get up waala utho
Sit down waala baitho
Disney waala Pluto
Hina waala Bhutto

U
Singham waala bhau
Bread waala pau
Gori waali Shalu
Kaala waala bhalu
Serial waala gattu
Darpok waala fattu

Note: Some/most of the rules have been broken above, but its cool.

Nowadays it doesn’t take much brain power to be a lyricist 😛

Alvida waala Bye,

CS

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Categories: Random, Stupidity Tags: , ,

The little bitches are in town…

November 12, 2011 4 comments

8th of November, 2011. A historic day in our life. A day of achievement, fullfilment and a vitamin-C supplement.

It all started with a ring on the doorbell. As the ring grew louder, it pulled us out of our slumber. It was 12 in the afternoon. The three of us roomies had planned to do something concrete that day and were on a synchronised sick leave. November-december is “sick leave planning” time (just as february-march is “tax planning” time).

The bell continued to haunt us. We normally ignore door bells during the 9:00 to 18:00 frame if we happen to be around. And we ignored this one as well, to our own peril.

Within seconds, our fans slowed down; the radio – our electronic lullaby – playing in the background went mute; and we, sick.

With bad breath as our companion, we rushed down in search of the MSEB dude who was courteous enough to have attempted to warn us of the impending disaster. But we were late – the electric trip switch to our apartment was already pulled down and the enclosure locked. Could it be that Neo (“the One” from “The Matrix”) was newly recruited in MSEB? We were not too sure!

We roamed around the society looking for Neo as well as other possible offenders, but were shocked to find both missing. What bothered us more was that we were still 30 bucks short of the cut-out limit of 1200 rupees.

Thanks Mr. Murphie – When things have to go wrong, they will.

But we are software engineers – mostly reactive, rarely proactive. We jumped into fire fighting mode:

  • A (that’s me) – went online to pay the dues
  • B and C collected the online receipt printout from D (who was luckily not sick that day).

They managed to pay the rest of the dues (for oiling the machinery) and within 2 hours of the payment, we were back in the grid. By the way, the “rest of the dues” were collected in an official/legal manner. None of the workers in the local office were ready to help us out for a quick buck. We are proud of you Anna; I was extremely happy to witness this positive development in our system – things are definitely improving (no sarcasm here).

And no, we were definitely not ashamed for trying to bribe. You know, we were simply testing the system.

I wonder why I wonder how
That it seems that the power’s getting stronger everyday
I feel a strength, an inner fire
But I’m scared I won’t be able to control it anymore

And then, to make the rest of the day productive, we decided it was time to take action. Action against our slender,delicate roommates who were accused of sharing rental space, but not paying the dues. Of sharing our food as if it was some Shahi Langar. Of troubling us in the morning and eating up our valuable washing/cleaning time. They were members of the opposite sex who had invaded our space in the month of March and have been with us since then (don’t start salivating now).

We felt a little sad as they were the weak ones. They were our little bitches. We had planned for some fatalities as well in case things did’nt go as planned. Fortunately for us, they were also members of the other species – the bloody roaches (gotcha!!).

The combing operation had begun. With a can of LAAL Hit and a lethal WMD (my expired credit card), we set out on a rampage. There were heavy casualties on the opposite side. We continued feverishly, but they outnumbered us heavily!

There’s a time to live and a time to die,
When it’s time to meet the Maker,
There’s a time to live, but isn’t it strange
That as soon as you’re born you’re dying!!

The next day claimed its first casualty on our end (I was down with fever). Finally, both parties called for a truce and a cease fire was ordered. The bitches continue to live on, but have been restricted to within the newly drawn LOC – our Prestige FLITE induction cooker (some of them still survive and replicate inside this warm, cosy enclosure).

All is well.

Satyameva Jayate!
CS

PS: Embedded lyrics – “The Clairvoyant” (Iron Maiden)

The story of Klinku

September 18, 2011 2 comments

Warning: Not meant for animal lovers and sensitive people. If you still have the balls/guts/nuts/etc., then read on…

It was a dry summer afternoon. Klinku was wandering along the deserted Koripol Street.

President’s Rule had been imposed on the state – the Chief Minister had been bludgeoned by members of the opposition party – the Vikali Jan-Shokpal  Dal. Angry mobs had already devastated major portion of public property and had burnt down the public offices of the Shokpal Dal in and around the Koripol Naka.

Klinku was lost. Disowned by his family in chaos that engulfed the state of Kokachal Pradesh. He was alone, dirty, hungry but not petrified. He continued his search for the one thing that mattered the most – something to satisfy his gurgling tummy. Anything, just about anything would make his day – a piece of roti, bread or even a half empty packet of Parle-G biscuits – his all time favourite. But illa, it was not his lucky day.

Karam Gogoi, an adivasi warrior of the Samer tribe – one of the last few tribes in north-eastern jungles of Bharat, living under the constant fear of extinction, had a dilemma of his own. It had been almost a month since his family had a proper adivasi meal. The curfew had made things even worse. It was difficult to procure the essential components of their daily meal so they had to do with drinking water from the nearby jharna and eating bland rice.

The sun had already set upon Kokachal Pradesh. The dry heat was making Klinku dizzy, and the hunger and weakness had squeezed out all his energy. He fell asleep  near the bench behind the Municipal hospital with a weird thought troubling him – was it going to be his last and final sleep? He was unsure.

Karam was desperate. He could not bear the thought of his children dying of hunger and decided to venture out into the civilian lands – something that was forbidden in his community. He had heard of stories of their men getting caught, tortured and executed by members of the civil society. But the feeling of hope surpassed all other feelings that he carried with him.

The enclosure was cosy and comfortable; lying on a hay bale with sun rays filtering through the thatched roof. Is this heaven? Klinku was perplexed. He could smell something – the aroma of basmati rice was unmistakable – yes this was indeed heaven, he concluded. He had never imagined death could have been so easy and heaven would be such a wonderful place. He shed all his inhibitions and gorged on the rice. So what if it was partially cooked – it was good enough for his ailing tummy. After finishing around two – three kilos of rice Klinku was back. He had never felt that way in years and could not believe that death could be so rewarding. He went back to sleep with a euphoric feeling of afterlife.

Karam had never felt better in his life. He was the first among the Samers to have successfully made it to the civilian area and back. And he had successfully laid his hands on what he wanted  – his prize was right now sleeping cosily in the beetle leaf thatched dog hut. His two beautiful wives Jali and Kali were preparing the fire for cooking while he was preparing the bamboo stick he had personally selected from the jungle for that day. The children were admiring the cute little thing asleep inside the dog hut, totally ignorant of its inevitable fate. They say – ignorance is bliss. So be it.

Ingredients and accessories (from Jali Gogoi’s notes):

  1. Water soaked Rice (preferably basmati) – Around 3 kgs
  2. Coconut milk – half a litre
  3. Vikrandi oil – 2 tbsp
  4. Bamboo stick coated with a thin layer of vikrandi oil
  5. An extremely hungry and weak dojjy (preferably from NE)
  6. Jungle fire for  cooking

Preparation:

  • Mix the coconut milk and vikrandi oil to prepare an emulsion and keep aside
  • Cook the rice for 5 mins only on medum heat. Take it off the flame and add the emulsion prepared earlier.
  • Feed the hungry dojjy with the rice until it falls asleep. Then tie its limbs to the opposite ends of the bamboo (with due respect). Hang the bamboo horizontally over the flame. Ensure that there is no direct flame on the dojjy‘s body.
  • Take it down after 25-30 mins. Make a logitudinal incision on the ventral side of the dojjy to cut open the belly to reveal the fully cooked rice – Adivasi style.
  • Serve hot.

Moral: Heaven might be better than death, but death is definitely better than hell on earth!!

*All names changed to protect the identities of the creatures (including the dog)

**What one may like as food, others may shunn… Basically in life, one must have funn.

PS: I love dogs as well as chicken. But I eat only one of them.