Chp 176. This Month that was, May 2008.

The IPL League is finally reaching its end, with the top four teams preparing to knock-out each other. It captivated the hearts of millions of Indians and other cricket lovers all over the World, and completely decimated the much hyped “Panchvi Pass” show. This was also the first time in my entire life I watched and enjoyed cricket

But what I find quite irritating, are the News channels they gave too much of importance and air-time to this game. There’s a cyclone in Myanmar, an earthquake in China, another case of “honor killing” in our country, important counter-policies by the government to battle inflation etc etc yet all we see in all the news channels are IPL IPL IPL. Slap gate. Highlights. This statement. That statement. Dug-out issues. SRK’s long sms. Why people why?

Just a marketing strategy suggestion. I’m sure most of the people are also fed up of seeing the same IPL news over and over again on every news channel. Instead, if one channel never aired IPL news and showed only genuine news, I think that channel would receive much higher TVR points. Sometimes a “herd mentality” is not the wisest solution.

Phoenix finally landed on the Red Planet after a journey of 295 days. Now Agent Scully fans like me will know if the truth is really out there or not. Even the Vatican said it’s okay to believe in aliens But if there are indeed aliens and they come to our planet officially, I will definitely boycott the grand Reception. Why? Because I think all aliens display unfair bias favoritism and prejudice against non-Americans. Why do they always abduct people only from the States? I mean, aren’t the rest of us, Indians, Ethopians, Japanese, Iranians etc worth experimenting over too? Comon, slice us too, insert those probes into our bodies, plant those micro-chips into our head too pleaseeee... Hmmmff.

The UPSC results came out a few days ago and my cousin Saidingpuii achieved the rank of 131. I am extremely proud of her, knowing how well she deserves this. Saii, always the quiet one, devoted to God, family and her studies, is definitely a person who automatically generates respect by the way she leads an ascetic lifestyle. Back in Hyderabad 4 years ago, none of my friends dared to drink or even smoke whenever she came over to my place for a sleepover. They couldn’t believe we’re related Go kick IAS butt, little sis.

Speaking of sisters, last week my bed-ridden sis told me to take a break from babysitting her the whole day and gave me a couple of moolah to go splurge at the Mall. And that’s exactly what I did. I watched Speed Racer, Iron Man and Forbidden Kingdom all in one shot! Hehe. As soon as one movie was over, I ran down to the ticket counter, bought the next ticket, ran up to the theatre again just in time to catch the beginning of the next movie. Yup, definitely one of the perks of a Mall cum Multiplex.

Loved “Speed Racer” and “Iron Man”, but “Forbidden Kingdom” was such a disaster. I had no idea how that movie and “Iron Man” had the same ratings in the local papers! It’s like that movie Freddy Vs Jason. I was crazy about “Friday the 13th” and “Nightmare on Elm Street” series, and when those two characters finally met for the first time, I went to the theatre with such high expectations, only to be sent hurling down Flopsville.

Likewise, I LOVE Jet Li and Jackie Chan movies, but “Forbidden Kingdom” just didn’t deliver. The picture quality resembled more of those Fearless Hyena days, the CGs were quite lame, and it was no way at par with CTHD or HOFD, or even Hero for that matter. Narnia: Prince Caspian was another movie I saw recently in the big screen. Better than the first part of course, but the most awaited release for me is Ice Age 3 scheduled for next year.

Sports: I was up the other night till 3 in the morning watching the UEFA Champion’s League Finals between Chelsea and ManUtd. The Red Devils barely managed to edge past the Blues at penalties, thanks to all the contentious decisions by the referee (including the linesmen) during the 120+ minute game, which always seemed to go in favor of the Red Devils. That’s what you get for having a coach cum manager who loves to throw his weight around (quite literally) and intimidate the match officials like a 5th Grade bully.

Yeah yeah, I was cheering for the Blues, but only because I am a hardcore Arsenal fan. I will always cheer for the team that’s playing against ManUtd, even if my team is already out of the Title race. So what if I have a vindictive malefic vicious heart? Bite me.

Anyway, enough of football for now. Next season, Arsenal will win the Treble and we shall talk all about that then.

The recent Neeraj Grover murder case splashed across every newspaper sounded more like those overdramatized passion+sex+murder stories one can find only in those sleazy “Crime & Detective” magazines, except of course this was a true story, a very unfortunate true story. Maria and Mathew had sex twice after brutally murdering Tanveer and chopping his body to pieces So, I guess it’s really true then, when people say crime excites people and serves as an aphrodisiac. A very expensive and gory aphrodisiac indeed. I’ll pass.

Another murder case in Noida. 14 years old Arushi Talwar. Maybe the cops are watching too many CSI episodes, I don’t know. But the way they are immediately jumping to conclusions is totally absurd. First it was Hemraj who killed her. After Hemraj’s body was found on the terrace, it was a disgruntled employee who killed Hemraj and had to kill Aarushi too because she witnessed the whole incident. Next it was the dad who killed both of them because they knew about his extramarital affair. After that it was a case of honor killing because the father found both Hemraj and Arushi in an "objectionable but not compromising position".

Every day we see new conclusions contradicting the previous conclusion. I mean, do the cops think people who follow this news are so freaking dumb? Ah she did it. Nooo he did. Wait he did it. Yesss she did it. I think... he did it. Meanwhile AQUA has a very interesting take on this whole issue, about how nobody remembers Hemraj in the midst of all these just because he’s a servant, that too a Nepali servant. A must read.

I met an old friend of mine recently. Pawan Deokule. Half marathi half kannadigan, he believes only half the migrant laborers in Mumbai should leave the city, not all, and that only half the water from Hogenekkal should be given to Karnataka. Just kidding

The funny thing about my relationship with Pawan is that, he always ends up being relocated to the city that I am currently in. Hyderabad, Mysore, Bangalore, Mumbai, Chennai, Delhi and now Mumbai again! I’m SERIOUSLY considering about suing him for stalking

I guess those are some of the highlights of this month. I am still clueless about when I will be able to go back to Mizoram because of my sister’s condition, and I really am starting to miss my nieces back home a lot. J [ calliopia’s canticles ] and Mesjay had been helping me out a lot with my prose and poetry compositions and I can’t say enough to thank them for that. BW finally got married, and next on the line is RTPA.

Man, all the eligible bachelors around me are falling down like dominoes.

dhat dhat dhat dhat…

Game over. You got married!

Chp 175. The MENOPAUSE Club

To all my brothers.

Are you tired of being stereotyped as the dirtier sex just because you are a male? Are you sick of all the generalization about how you have no sense of neatness and tidiness when it comes to your bedrooms?

Well, despair no more, my brothers. The MENOPAUSE Club is born!

MENOPAUSE (Men for Equality on Neatness Objecting the Promotion of Absurdly Unfair Sexist Exemplification) is now formed with the sole purpose of giving a chance to the unfair sex to stand up and object to women persistently depicting us slobs or pigs.

Apart from the MENOPAUSE Club, there are also various other organizations you can join to combat this gross misconception about us that we love to get dirty and make sexist jokes. The following Clubs will prove all that wrong.

BRAS – Brothers Revolting Against Sisters

THONG - Those Humans Oppressed by the Nymphet Gender

GARTER – Guys Angrily Rallying To Express their Rights

PANTIES – Pledging Allegiance to Nullify The Incorrigible Established Stereotype

LINGERIE - Liberal Intellectuals & Neat Gentlemen Expressing Rage at Inequality Everywhere


Let me tell you one dirty little secret about women.

pssstttt psssttt… Not all of them are neat and tidy and roses and butterflies all the time.

The only difference between a man and a woman is that a man will invite you into his room any time no matter how dirty it is, whereas a woman will do so only when her room is sparkling like a Swarovski showroom.

So the next time a girl abruptly says thank you for the wonderful lunch/dinner and then closes her door, trust me, it is not because of you It has nothing to do with you. It’s just that she left a couple of clothes lying around on her bed or her shoe rack is jumbled up.

Do know that a girl’s room is as untidy as yours, most of the time. They just have a mysterious cryptic way of communicating with their roommates to clean up everything before they arrive, just like how we guys can text-message our roomies to clean up the house without looking at our phones while using shorthand codes only other guys will understand. Eg: “dude babe room.” The only difference is that, while we guys “clean” up by shoving everything under the bed or inside the closet, womenfolk do so in a more elegant manner.

But that doesn’t mean we should just stand by let women pester and nag us about our bedrooms!

With the bedrooms fallen, what next? Our love for junk food? Our innate passion for sports? Our special ability to think of only one thing at certain times? Our refusal to ask for directions even when we're lost? All that will be taken away from us soon!

Why must we always be the victim of anything that is horrendous and revolting? We have already surrendered to the fair sex when it comes to the position of the toilet seat, do you really want to give up your prerogative on the bedrooms as well?

We need to stand up to their nagging and relentless hen-pecking. Join the MENOPAUSE Club, my brothers. The next time your girlfriend complains, tell her that the lizard she is pointing at has a name - "Tommy", who had been a reliable companion all those times she gave you the cold-shoulder.

Tell her the cobweb on your ceiling is your definition of art, just like how her definition of art is Prada or Jimmy Choo. Tell her you intentionally collect dusts on your book-shelves and TV, just like how she collects different make-up kits, girlie magazines and conditioners. Tell her you love to strip your CPU open and leave it around like that, just like how she loves to wear those tubes and spaghettis barely covering her body.

Let me warn you about one thing, my brothers. Women are extremely cunning! Don’t ever fall into their traps.

Suppose you are at her place. Doesn’t matter if she’s your girlfriend or best-friend or your best-friend’s girlfriend. As long as she is not your direct blood relative, always be alert for all the small small signs.

Sometimes she will purposely open her closet in front of you, knowing fully well that you are slyly taking a sneak-peek from behind. She would have never done that if she knew it was shabby. If she tells you not to use her bathroom because the flush is broken, it probably means all her toiletries are in a mess inside. In a typical Indian 1BHK/2BHK bachelor apartment, we guys usually leave our shoes in the verandah (because of the obvious reason). Women on the other hand place their neatly arranged and organized shoes by the main door, because it is the most prominent place to notice.

See where I am getting at? Ah the guile! Hence when a guy sees all that, deep within his subconscious he’s convinced that women are always like that all the time. tsk tsk… shame on you for tricking us O woman

Take a simple experiment. Call up your ex-girlfriend and tell her you’re coming over to her place to collect something. WHAM! You will notice how different her apartment is now from the time you were dating. Why? Because of the obvious reason that she’s not going to waste even an ounce of energy cleaning up her apartment just to impress a jerk like you.

I'm telling you, brothers, our end is nigh. Unless we do something to stop the evil armies of womenfolk from marching across the gates of Hades, our very extinction is at stake. Women don't need us now. They now have Playgirl, artificial insemination, and Ellen DeGeneres. We have become defunct.

Join the MENOPAUSE Club before it’s too late brothers. Stand up together the next time any woman nags you about your room.

United we dirt.


- KOTEX

Kima Orchestrating The Equality for XY-chromosomes

Chp 174. Blaming the victim: Strange Logic.

We live in a World where everybody's a PhD at passing the buck. We either turn a blind eye to the most obvious of reasoning, or blame somebody else who we know are completely innocent. But then, majority rules, right? Let's be democratic and continue oppressing the weak.

Flashback four years ago. Mapuia, a system analyst for a reputed IT Firm in Bangalore, was not allowed to move in to his new apartment by his Landlord when he met him, even though the Landlord had already given his broker the green signal before. The Landlord returned the deposit, refused to sign the affidavit and even offered to pay the broker the one month’s rental fee which Mapuia had to pay to the broker.

Sure, as Indians we are all aware of the “unspoken” discrimination people face when it comes apartment leasing, especially if you are from the North-east, a Muslim, a non-vegetarian Hindu, or even a bachelor/bachelorette. But what was unique about this case was, the Landlord told Mapuia that the reason he couldn’t lease the apartment to him was because he did not want any trouble if somebody from the building called him a “chinky”! An incident like that supposedly took place with his neighbor’s tenants some time ago, and there was a lot of swearing, slugfest and police intervention.

Likewise, 10 years ago it was a known fact that discotheques in Bangalore like "The Club" and a few Pubs didn’t allow "chinkies" to enter their establishments because they usually get into a fight with the unruly drunken crowd after being racially abused. So the management prohibited "chinkies" from entering to avoid violence and also to "protect" us from such racism. Hmmm…

That was 10 years ago. Things are a little bit different now. Nobody stopped me the last time I went to "The Club".

But that is how it has always been for us. If people call us chinkies, it apparently is our fault. Hence we are denied accommodation, denied entry to public and private establishments, denied to enjoy the same basic rights that other Indians have, all in the name of "protecting" us from being racially abused. Yes, I guess I see the logic behind all these. Do you too?

I mean, take a look at how we use that same logic at other incidents. If a woman is raped here in India, people blame the woman. Forget the rapist. Who cares about him. The victim shouldn't have worn tee-shirt and jeans that was screaming out "RAPE ME, RAPE ME PLEASE" right? She was asking for it. If you leave meat out in the open, cats will come to eat it right? She should have worn a full sleeved salwar kameeze. Wait a minute, did somebody say most of the rapes in India take place on women wearing the most traditional attire? Nah, they must have been lying. This is a conspiracy by the ISI or CIA, trying to taint our conservative tradition and heritage (...of the kamasutra).

And if somebody secretly filmed a couple inside their bedroom during their most intimate moment using a spy-cam and then leaked that out in public, the mob ire is directed at the couple (doesn't matter if they are married to each other or not). Meanwhile, most people don't even bother about the pervert who filmed them and distributed the clip.

Or take for example, the recent ongoing IPL cheerleaders controversy. One of the reasons why the moral-police wants them banned is because they supposedly incite sexual aggressiveness among the spectators. Yeah, so if the crowd makes lewd remarks at them and asks them how much they charge for a quickie, it is the cheerleaders' fault! Down with the cheerleaders. All hail the leerleaders.

If I am in a busy public place and a group of guys shout at me: "Chinky", then people around me stare at me! Are they waiting for me to react? To explode? To cry? To laugh? To act as if nothing's happened? To do a crouching tiger hidden dragon war cry? Hiiiaaaaaaooooooo! ??? Why stare at me? Once a shopkeeper even ushered me away after sensing trouble. The one that was asked to leave was ME! Ah yes, the logic. I am the perpetrator for being the victim

Nice.

Now I guess you're also beginning to see the logic.

Remember what happened in Mumbai on NY’s night when two NRI women were molested in public? Yes, I know. How dare they let themselves be molested, right? Shameless women.

Remember Jessica Lall who was shot in a Bar for refusing to serve a customer beyond permit time? Yes, I swear! What was she doing working in a Bar? Women don't belong there. She was asking for it, right?

Remember all those honor-killings? Yes, why did they marry somebody against their family’s wish? tsk tsk tsk…

Remember what happened in Gurgaon when two Mizo girls travelling in a Santro met with an accident? One of them died. While a large majority of Mizo onliners conveyed their condolences, a few people blamed the girls! "What were they doing in a car at 2 in the morning, that too with non-Mizos?" they asked suspiciously.

Ah. Now you see the logic I am trying to make? This logic cuts across all races, all religions, all communities.

Stupid logic.

Maybe sometimes, this logic actually makes a bit of sense. Take for example, red-light areas. At most metros, there are those "officially designated" red-light areas where sex-workers can practice their trade. Keeping in mind the PITA and SITA, you will not find such red-light areas at a respectable residential locality. The locals there will object to it because of the obvious reason that it attracts "unwanted elements".

Now if you really think about it, the same logic is applied here too. Prostitutes are blamed for the trouble makers that they attract, instead of nipping the trouble-makers directly in the bud.

So the question is, where do we draw the line on the use of such logic? And more importantly, WHO draws the line?

And when it comes to such logics, what determines a person’s ability to think alike with others or disagree on various issues? His cultural background? His demographic upbringing? Socioeconomic factors? Amount of experience and exposure to different societies? External influences like friends and family? Level of education? IQ? EQ? PQ?

Whatever be the reason, we still continue to argue and debate over such logics since the dawn of… Online discussion forums. Maybe that’s what life is all about in the end - Eternal opinionated disagreements.

Meanwhile, the victim continues to get blamed...

Chp 173. Memory: A short story.

Another attempt at creative writing... Hope you enjoy.

Update May 20: A few grammatical errors edited by J [Calliopia's Canticles]

Living in a city of skyscrapers and steep rental rates really has its ups and downs. Downs most of the time. Especially when you live on the 10th floor of a newly constructed building in one of the under-developed suburbs of Mumbai with no servants or maids at your disposal. So, travelling up and down 10 stories of flats for simple requirements like eggs and soaps is extremely painful and exhausting, especially with the elevator still out of service!

And today was worse. We had guests. Lots of guests.

First of all, there was my brother-in-law and his new girlfriend, who of course didn't get along immediately with my wife. "What a slut," she whispered to me. "Ummm... yeah I know, it is so slutty to read the entertainment section of the newspaper first before reading the main news section," I whispered back in disgust.

I felt the sharp piercing pinch on my elbow. I ignored it. Two years of marriage and I still can't fathom how she always manage to pinch me at the exact same spot over and over again with laser-guided precision. Two more years of marriage and I'm sure this spot on my arm will be permanently numb.

Then there were my wife's two colleagues at the Call centre - Priyanka and Sagarika. The former is kinda rotund and large, while the latter looks more like Nicole Richie's twin. Asking if one of them has been eating up the other's food is now a clichéd joke. And calling them "Laurella and Hardyna" only invites another pinch from my wife.

The gang was also there. Subs, Nick, Sonam, Jaiswal and my cousin Mapuia. Subs, real name Subramanium, works at Indian Airlines. Nick, real name Nikhil, is a lesser known DJ here in Mumbai, struggling for recognition. Sonam is currently an intern at P&G while Jaiswal works as an event manager for "Exploxion". My cousin Mapuia is a final year student at Don Bosco Arts College and he stays with me and my wife. We all met at our local Gym a year ago and became good friends from then on.

It being a weekend, everybody came over to our new apartment. As soon as Jaiswal entered our apartment, he huffed, "Bastard... Lift." I grinned. After that Priyanka arrived. "My God, you've lost 10 pounds on your way up!" I exclaimed. Then she pinched me exactly on my wife's favorite spot! Is my wife revealing family secrets now, I wondered.

The guys were here to catch the Arsenal-Liverpool match on TV later in the evening. Priyanka and Sagarika were here because they wanted to watch a movie I'd just downloaded. Who knew "Love Story" would be a chick flick? And last but not the least, my wife's brother and his girlfriend were here to drink up all my beer from the fridge, I think.

Having guests today really sucks. First of all, the elevator is still out of service and my young cousin sprained his ankle while playing basketball last week, so that means I have to do all the running up-and-down errands for my guests. And asking my brother-in-law to do all that is hopeless, especially now that he's already locked himself up with his girlfriend inside my cousin's room.

I hate running up and down 10 flats. Not only is it tiring, today is a terribly hot and humid day. And I am also extremely forgetful.

I work for Symancos, dealing with medical transcripts. The beauty of this job is that I can work right from home through the internet, except that right now, there is no internet connection yet in our new apartment. So I have to rely on the internet cafe on the ground floor to complete my work. And whenever I go there with my detachable hard-drive and office documents, dear wife always gives me a list of things to get from the shops below - groceries, toiletries, medicines, cosmetics, etc etc. And the problem is, I always end up forgetting a couple of things!

"Here are the potatoes, onions and cabbages", I'd say. "Where's the ginger?" she'd retort. And down I go again. "Here's the ginger!" I'd exclaim. "And the washing powder?" she'd tilt her head disappointedly, like a proud father watching his son finish last at a 100 metre race on his school's Sports-day.

Once, the three of us (Me, my wife and cousin) didn't brush our teeth for two days because I forgot to buy toothpaste two consecutive times. But hey, don't tell others about that!

The worst incident though, was when I had just finished completing my daily quota of medical transcriptions from the internet cafe and was on my way up, when I suddenly remembered I had to buy a few oranges and two watermelons. I bought those and felt pretty proud about myself for remembering them.

Nobody was home that day, so I walked up slowly, like a soldier returning home from war victoriously, picturing in my mind how I'd display those fruits on the kitchen table for everybody to see. It was only when I reached my apartment that I remembered I had left my keys at the counter of the fruit stall!

And since I could not leave the fruits lying outside my door, I ran down the flight of steps again, four steps at a time, fearing that somebody might take my keys, one hand carrying the oranges with a watermelon tucked between my elbows while the other hand clutched the other watermelon with my detachable hard-drive wrapped around my other arm. It was indeed a funny sight, the neighbourhood kids later said.

Today I told myself I was not going to screw up things any more. There was a 3pm video conference appointment on the net with my immediate superior from New York. Picking up the important documents and my detachable hard-drive, I went up to our guests sitting cozily in our entertainment room.

"If you guys want anything from downstairs, tell me right now and I will go get them. I have a meeting with my boss on the net which won't take long."

"Vim. We are out of dish cleaner. Get a half litre Vim," my wife ordered.

"Mutton sandwich for me," shouted Priyanka, not daring to make any eye contact with me. "And make that with extra cheese," she meekly added.

"Beer for me, boss," Jaiswal said. "Me too," joined Sonam.

"Rum, Old Monk," Subs cried. "Sorry dude," I replied while making sure my brother-in-law was still inside Mapuia's room, "No hard drinks when Paul is in the house, you know the ground rules here."

"Bugger... ok get me beer. But make sure it is strong. Either KF Strong or Haywards 5000."

"Can you please get me a new crepe bandage from the pharmacy? This one is starting to get pretty dirty..."

"Sure thing, Mapui. Anything else, anyone?" I asked.

"Yeah, get some chips and pepsi." Nick said.

"No!" screamed my wife from the Kitchen immediately. "Dinner will be served soon. I am cooking my favorite Mizo dish for you guys and I really want all of you to enjoy it. So, no junk food for anyone now."

Everyone then looked at Priyanka, who had just ordered a sandwich. She returned our jocular stare with the One-finger salute.

"What about those two love birds inside Mapuia's room?" I asked my wife.

"A pack of condoms," Nick whispered.

"I heard that!" screamed my wife again from the Kitchen. "Maybe I'll send those condoms to Anjana’s dad, Jaiswal."

"HEY! Nick said that, not ME!" complained Jaiswal immediately.

I could hear all their laughter as I closed the door behind me. Wish I could stay behind... stupid meeting with stupid boss.

It was truly a humid day. I was already sticky and slimey by the time I reached the fifth floor. Things became much better once I reached the Cyber cafe, with the cold AC air swallowing me up like a man happily drowning in an Oasis right in the middle of a desert.

I plugged in my hard-drive and immediately opened a text document where I typed in all the things I was supposed to get. After that I logged into my Company’s website and waited for my superordinate to come online. He was on time as usual, and 20 minutes later, my work was done.

I took a look at my list again. This time, I was not going to forget anything.

Mutton sandwich with extra cheese. Check.
Ten bottles of light premium beer. Check.
Four pints of strong beer. Check.
Crepe bandages. Check.
Chips and pepsi despite my wife's prohibition. Check.
And oh, I nearly forgot the dish cleaner for the wife. Check.

Boy it felt great! This was probably the first time I ever got everything at one go. Before ascending the 10-storey flight of steps, I checked my pocket again and shook it. It jingled. Ah, my keys were there too. Good good.

So I walked up slowly. The load that I was carrying was heavy, but if it meant seeing an impressed smile upon my wife's face, it was definitely worth it.

"Yo, I'm backkk!"

I gave everybody what they ordered. Even though my wife frowned at the chips and pepsi, when she realized that I had actually remembered everything, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheeks. Yup, it was worth it.

The football match started soon, so we had to eat dinner in front of the TV. I couldn't help making a dig at Subs, who was the only person in the room with children. "See, this is the beauty of not having any children. No need to set any kind of example to the kids, like not eating in front of the TV. See the freedom we have dude..."

"Hah. We'll see." Subs scorned back.

Arsenal won the match, and we all rejoiced as usual. Subs went an extra mile by breakdacing, and Nick suggested we vote him out of our Arsenal Fan Club so as to maintain our honour and dignity.

We watched another football match again after that, but spent most of our time pulling each others' legs. By 10pm, the gang decided it was time to go home. They thanked my wife for the lovely dinner, especially the cultural delicacies, and then left our apartment.

Just as they left, Mapuia who had gone to the loo earlier, stepped into the TV room and asked, "When did Paul and his girlfriend leave???"

"They're gone?" exclaimed my wife. Nobody knew. I could already picture my wife on the phone the next day, complaining to her parents about her brother's incorrigible lifestyle. I guess we all have little black sheeps to deal with in our respective families.

With everybody gone, Priyanka asked in a dramatic tone, "NOW can we watch Love story?"

"Are you sure you really wanna watch it?" I protested. "Comon, let's watch something else, like Die Hard or ... The Ring."

"Love Story!" Priyanka and Sagarika retorted in great unison. I wondered if they had practiced that line before coming over to our place.

The missus then spoke, "Just put on the movie. You guys made us all sit through a boring..."

I stared at my wife, putting on my best theatrical performance... "Gasp!"

"Fine fine. You made us sit through an exciting football match. It was so exciting that we nearly slept. Now it's our turn, Mister-I-remembered-everything-for-once."

"Alright alright. There's no need for sarcasm." I smiled back. "But you'll all have to watch it in our bedroom on the computer."

"That's fine by us," Sagarika said. Priyanka added, "Just tell me which side of the bed do you sleep so that I can sit there and..."

"Bleh bleh bleh," I stuck out my tongue at Pri.

"Move on to the computer then," I told them. "I'll have to copy the movie to the computer because it is still in my detachable hard-dri..."

Oh oh.

My hard-drive!

...

Oh crap...

Chp 172. The Dark side

A queasy look.
A whiff of cologne.
Scent of betrayal,
bedlam in my soul.

One glance says it all,
One breath,
utters more lies.
One smile, an imposter.

I have died,
two Winters ago.

Lies fueled by other lies,
they conquer.
Insanity,
eating me alive.

Love, annihilated.

Trapped in Incubus,
no escape.
Forever maimed.
Forever scarred.

Life,
a psychedelic Hell.

Darkness,
so strong, so virile!
sweetly beckoning,
with such mellifluous tone,
so... seductive
so... irresistible.

Chaos, my new serenity.
Turmoil, my concubine.
Malevolence, my prayer.
Compassion, my nemesis.

I crave, that grave.
That sweet dark melody,
of such magnificent gloom.
Ah.. release me.
Hades, fly me home.

A single sigh,
betrays all that we had.
A single moan,
strangles me from within.
Dying, yet again,
every minute, every second.

Falling,
from grace, me.
Squirming,
with ecstasy, you.

Treachery,
tastes so sweet. Like honey.
Vengeance, so bewitching.

Bitter sweet Poison, this vial.
No desire,
ever felt so strong.
Like the scarlet temptress,
it draws me nearer,
closer to an eternal Bliss
of agony, of pain.

But no Sins of mine, I'll atone,
for I hope, to see you again,
my Darling.

In Hell.

Chp 171. Limericks of Mizo Onliners

Limericks! Love them. Traditional rule of Limericks states that in a 5-line Stanza, line number 1, 2 and 5 should rhyme, and likewise line 3 and 4 should rhyme, hence following the format A-A-B-B-A.

Well, here is my humble attempt at composing a few limericks of some of the regular Mizo onliners that I know (mostly from misual.com, lawrkhawm.com and the unforgettable zoram.com and izawl.com days. *sigh*).

I found a lot of amazing people at all these websites, who became more than just online buddies to me. They became my best friends, my mentors, my siblings, and my soulmates, friends who made me smile and laugh and appreciate life. This is a tribute to all of you, in my own special way of light humor, and hoping to continue such a wonderful relationship for a long long time. Cheers.

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There once was a guy called Jimmy,
whose face you'll find extremely funny.
He came to Aizawl looking for a bride,
but his true impulses he could not hide.
Now poor Ateii will soon be a mummy.

There once was a guy called Amos,
working in Bangalore like a horse.
Everytime he has a new girlfriend,
she dumps him over the weekend.
Ooops, there goes another he just lost.

There once was a girl called Cherrie,
always smiling and making merry.
She wore a spaghetti to class one day,
urging her students to have their say.
Too bad she didn't know, her armpits were hairy.

There once was a guy called Ben,
who really fancied a lot of women.
So he created misual.com,
hoping he will score at home.
3 years later he's still waiting for "it" to happen.

There once was a guy called Spikey,
break-dancing away in New Jersey.
He's really good at Bboying,
his back-flip spins are amazing.
Seems he's now going around with Britney.

There once was a guy called Aryan,
fighting with everyone, like the ancient Mayan.
Oh he praises Australia sooooo much,
criticizing every Mizo custom as such.
Now he's happily married, to an aussie called Ryan.

There once was a girl called Ammi,
a fashion designer with a slim tummy.
I always used go to her apartment just to chill,
b'coz there are many models there on the pill.
Now she no longer invites me to play rummy.

There once was a guy called Simjazz,
king of mizo IRC, loved by all the lass.
He was getting cosy with a sweet young girl,
in a cyber cafe and was just about to hurl,
but unfortunately due to his age, he passed gas.

There once was a guy called Alexxfender,
why the "double X" we always used to wonder.
And then Virgo told us the story,
about his short Hollywood history.
He once acted in a "movie" wearing only a suspender.

There once was a girl called Molotov,
a great photographer, she was no oaf.
Young men from afar came to her room,
hoping that she might select a groom.
But alas, when they saw her, away they drove.

There once was a guy called moimoi,
trust me, he's old, like a SantaClaus toy.
When we asked him his age,
he looked at us with full rage.
Then he took his walking cane and cried "Oi".

There once was a guy called Vana,
some might say his head's like a banana.
He works at Pachhunga College,
chasing girls who are half his age.
When we asked him why, he said b'coz he wanna.

There once was a guy called father_sphinx,
Young and a virgin, he approached a minx.
He may be the leader of the Sphinx Clan,
but whenever he speaks, all the girls ran.
So he cried, "Being only 16 is such a jinx."

There once was a girl called Shahnaz,
who went to Vienna to spend Christmas.
She usually gets her french wrong,
especially the words that are long.
She once asked what's a trois-à-ménage.

There once was a guy called The Chhamanator,
trying his best to look like the Terminator.
His girlfriend he tried to impress,
with shiny teeth and smart tress.
Too bad, she told him he looks like an alligator,

There once was a girl called Poison_ivy,
whose hair was all curled up and wavy.
One day she told her friend Jason,
that for him she has deep affection.
The next day, Jason went and joined the Navy.

There once was a girl called Jigry,
while she's at work, she's always hungry.
Working in AOL seems such a drab,
At the cafeteria, everything she grab.
When it comes to food, she got a Master's degree.

There once was a guy called Isaac,
who claims he's good in the sack.
You might know him as "Jupiter",
who loves to play his spanish guitar.
Too bad the guitar's a "part" of Jack.

There once was a girl called Cute_lady,
who detested anything that was shady.
She goes to Church regularly,
helping out all the Mizo elderly.
Until one day she got a proposal, from the priest's daddy.

There once was a guy called DaGGyLo,
partying like a dawg, flirting with the ho.
Believe me, he raps really well,
but only the GUYS find him swell.
Because from behind, he looks like J Lo.

There once was a guy called Bekang^roll,
oh man, he looks exactly like a Troll.
His drinks capacity you will doubt,
b'coz he always end up passing out.
That's his excuse, for putting it in the wrong hole.

There once was a girl called Jes,
A kind and loving mother no less.
She finally decided, "no more children",
because she can't handle all the burden.
Hence tonight, Rob's hand will be a mess.

There once was a guy called Rob,
an IAS he may be, but still a slob.
He said, "Don't steal other's girlfriend,"
"Because you will regret it in the end."
It's been 10 years, and Jes still screams out "Oh.. Bob".

There once was a guy called Zorun,
for many readers, he's a real boon.
He writes a levelheaded comment,
that is liked by everybody present.
But in his photos, damn he looks like a goon.

There once was a guy called Philo,
A great writer always on the go.
He has an immense vocabulary,
and sounds like a walking dictionary.
That's why he's still single, like The Simpson's Moe.

There once was a guy called Lal,
who is crazy about bekang and dal.
One night he was out with Miss Hmar,
who suddenly unbuttoned inside the car.
Within seconds, he crashed into a wall.

There once was a girl called superstar,
who lives at a locality very very far.
Whenever she says, "come over here"
we always ask if there will be beer.
Because you see, her fridge is a mini-bar.

There once was a guy called mnowluck,
when it comes to romance, he kinda suck.
He had an immense crush on superstar,
and sent her a heart made from tar.
Now everyone wonders, did he and she ....

There once was a guy called Sekibuhchhuak,
Its gonna be hard, to find what rhymes with "huak".
Anyway, he's from a place called Saikhamakawn,
where he tried to woo a girl just around dawn.
Too bad, when the girl saw him, she went "uaaakk".

There once was a girl called Virgochhas,
when it comes to love, she's really fast.
Everybody's scared to quarrel with her,
because when she talks, it's like thunder.
Now that she's married, some arguments she pass.

There once was a girl called Jinx,
working in China with all the Mings.
She had a crush on John for about a year,
so she showed him her nunchuks and spear.
Too bad John wasn't into those type of kinks.

There once was a girl called Jerusha,
who chanced to meet the Iranian Shah.
They dated each other in Hyderabad,
where she discovered something hard.
Now she's in Iran, working as a Geisha.

There once was a guy called Sandman,
Handsome and well-built like a He-Man.
All the women wants to marry him,
All the mothers want him as a son.
Ah, you really think I was going to make fun of myself? :-P

Cheers, and hope you like them. Peace out, everyone. Love you all.