Free your mind

Azmi’s grandmother once famously said “When in doubt, whip it out”- I tried- and even though it amused me for some time it didn’t seem to solve anything [maybe I was doing it wrong]

But if not to whip it out then how else is a person supposed to take a decision.

Now I have been confused most of my life- so I have always known what I wanted.

Now most people complain about though decisions and I always believed that one thing most people forget is no matter how hard their day, no matter how tough their choices, how complex their ethical decisions, you always get to choose.

So how to make those difficult decisions- I don’t know but I know what helps.

We are men! Throughout history, we have always needed, in times of difficulty, to retreat to our caves. It so happens that in this modern age, our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet is, for us, the last stronghold, the final refuge, the last few square feet of man-space left to us! Somewhere to sit, somewhere to think, somewhere to do things, and who gives a damn about the smell? Because that, for us, is happiness- that for us is bliss and that is where man can make the best and most complex of decisions. because we are men. We are different. We have only one word for soap. We do not own candles. We do not own magazines fill of pictures of celebrities with all their clothes on. For us things are simpler- When we have conversations, we actually take it in turns to talk! But we have not yet reached that level of earth-shattering boredom and inhuman despair that we would have a haircut recreationally. We don't know how to get excited about... really, really boring things, like ornaments and bath oil- we have more important things to worry about. I mean, we do not even know what in the world the purpose of pot-pourri! Looks like breakfast, smells like your aunt! Why do we need that?

So in this strange and frightening world, the toilet is the one last place to call our own. This toilet, this blessed pot, this... fortress of solitude. You girls, you may go to the bathroom in groups of two or more. Yet we do not pass comment. We do not make judgment. That is your choice. But we men will always walk the toilet mile... alone.

And it is in this toilet that we make our decisions- of course I just moved and it is now that I realize the importance of the toilet- my toilet- when I have to take decision- but I have nowhere, no one to go to.

So everybody reading this- I want you to take this time to truly respect your toilet- it gives you more than you will ever give it.

Husbands and wives

When I was young, or not so young, I used to ask my father and my mother to tell me about their wedding. They didn’t like to do it too much claiming that they had forgotten. I now realize that maybe the truth was that they wanted to forget!

The post is long but so are marriages

leaving that aside, the thing is that I am fascinated by weddings. This fascination was not just about the pomp and the grandeur of an Indian wedding. Very simply, I wanted to be the groom. Not because the brides caught my fancy (well to be honest sometimes they did!). It was because I wanted to be at the center of attraction, the cynosure of all eyes. Everybody fretted and fussed over the groom, for a few days at least everyone was there to attend to him and indulge his whims. He got the first choice, the most attention. Later I learnt that’s the same treatment is given to death row inmates an hour before their execution.

How I am going to find that girl or who its going to be is still in question, but that’s for another post, but I can picture my Indian wedding right now.

It will be a love marriage. And no it wasn’t one of those pansy “arranged-cum-love marriages”. What’s an “arranged-cum-love-marriage” anyway? I mean isn’t it an oxymoron? It just means you can’t get a girl for yourself and your parents have to step in. And you are too ashamed to accept it and like to put a veneer of “love” to cover it. Let’s face it…. arranged marriage is all about the BBB factor: the Bigger and Better Bet. Guys go for the prettiest girl they can find while girls go for Mr. Moneybags. After all, that’s all you can judge before an arranged marriage. If richer get the prettier, where’s the love? And when you start something on the basis of such corporeal considerations, how does “love” ever grow? I also find the term “love marriage” rather curious. It precludes “arranged” marriages from having “love” in it!

My marriage is most likely to take place in India. I will land at the airport, there my would-be wife and her parents standing to receive me with a bouquet of flowers! Now in all my life no one has ever given me flowers. And here I was, coming down from the plane and being greeted with a full bouquet. Oh the importance!

Pretty soon I would realize that things were going to be very different from now on. For one, my mother will keep on repeating that I was going to become someone else’s. And that my loyalties would change yada yada yada.

Of course Ma wanted to be reassured that my loyalties to her were NOT going to change. That I was going to still be mama’s boy and that I should always remember who brought me up. Needless to say, I will have to hug her … “Oh Ma of course I am still your baby ”.

The fact was that the wedding was not yet finished and there was no denying that I couldn’t piss her off at this stage. Or get her overtly sentimental. She is the main organizer around the house. Men are no good at this stuff.

The preparations would start start. Being a lazy guy, I let my mother do most of the work. After all, This was the marriage of her first son. So I did not want to deprive her of the happiness of arranging everything herself. That would have been a most selfish thing to do. So I profitably used whatever time I could get to spend with my to-be-wife and to be generally up to “no good”.

Then it would be time for shopping, Now shopping I hate, so I am hoping by that time my plans for inventing organic pants- which grow with you and change according to occasion- will be ready for human testing.

Then ofcourse would be time for the invitations- You all are invited- I couldn’t get married without you.

Then before the wedding you have the tradition of taking gifts and packing them in such a pretty way that you don’t want to open the wrapper. A mountain of wasted effort. But then again so is marriage!

it’s rather fun however especially since I wasn’t doing it. My aunts did it interspersing their efforts with attempts to pull my leg. It’s all in the game and I took it gamely. Except that I have heard these same gags like millions of times. And such lame ass too. Chillers like “ Oh thinking about your wife”. Yeah what do you want me to think about? You? Of course I am thinking about my wife. What’s their problem? I know they are trying to be friendly. But somehow when you are missing your wife (you are not supposed to see her for a few days before the marriage or something to that effect) its not exactly what you like to hear.

Then the day of the marriage. And then I realized that this wasn’t a question of the groom being important. It was a matter of being made the center of a huge joke. It was some sort of Shakespearean comedy of errors in which nothing made sense. Except that everyone but the players were enjoying it. It was one enormous Chinese water torture spread over a day, and then continued for a week.

For starters, I have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Ostensibly to taste some curd. For good luck or something, Indian tradition. Who the hell thought of this anyway? I would do no such thing. Wake up pretty late, have a dash of curd. According to custom I wasn’t supposed to eat for the day but Geneva Conventions forbids POWs from being deprived of 2000 calories a day. So I ate naturally.

The next ceremony is a strip tease show where I would have to stand bare-torso in front of a gaggle of middle-aged women (aunts and neighbors) while I was smeared with turmeric and then bathed. And I wasn’t going to stand shirless e while someone poured water down my spine. This was my marriage, not some public spectacle. Plus I don’t really have the figure to display my torso, a Greek god I am not by any means!I am to be smeared with garlic. While the cameramen and video photographers make sure that this moment of embarrassment is enshrined forever.

Lots of photos. Lots of smiles. Please look this way. Yes over here hold these flowers. Yes look this way. Just roll your eyes…yes just right! The evening was off to a flying start.
The car was bedecked with flowers. I had a tough time getting into the car. I meanI had thorns up my ass.

Then of to the place of marriage. This the girl gets to decide so it can be anywhere, was escorted and asked to sit on a throne. I felt like a king. No not really. Actually, I felt like a fool with the cameramen making me move my face every angle. Focussing, lighting me from different angles. If that was not enough, strange people whom I have never seen before (and unlikely to see again) were coming and introducing them to me. To be honest, everyone looked the same . I smiled stupidly at them and muttered something inane like “Oh nice to see you again”. Of course I haven’t seen them before…. there were a lot of them. Of different ages. I couldn’t look at them too close for the sake of decency. No one likes it if the groom is ogling at other girls. But you know me. So I convinced myself these girls were actually guys and looked at them with the same impersonal aura of boredom as I would if they were of the same gender as I am. They perhaps thought I was being rude. Couldn’t be helped. The flip side would be that if I looked at them the way I usually look at ladies their age, they would think I am a letch. Which in a way is closer to the truth, but then again who said I cared a rat’s ass about truthfulness. One thing I couldn’t help noticing, my wife’s sister’s ages had a wide distribution. As a friend of mine told me: That’s a good investment for the future. You get my drift right?

Now the best part goodies, and I am talking about presents. Which is a big thing for the groom, as most people seem to think its fine to buy gifts for the bride but not for the groom. Hello! There is another person getting married too !!! I mean if women are equal to men then why not have the same principle be carried over with regard to the disbursement of gifts? Why the sexism here eh? This had been an issue that had bothered me ever since I saw my uncle getting married when I was ten years old. And I noticed that he hardly got nothing for himself in comparison to what my aunt got. Though really I didn’t mind it too much now… as long as one of us got the presents it stayed in the “family”. As you can see dear readers, I had already been “broken in ” as horses are and become quite house-trained. So much so that my wife getting gifts and not me didn’t really hurt as much as I thought it would. [ Incidentally if any girl is reading this I am very happy at the gifts I will get. No, I am not an ungrateful ******..I am just saying this to make a point about the “relative” skewed way people give gifts]

Now during the eremony you have to take off your shoes. Just like in any other Indian ceremony…wearing shoes isn’t really the sartorial style of choice . Unfortunately, no doubt influenced by Hindi film “family” movies (which are nothing but elaborate wedding videos of nice looking people with no problems in the world other than “love” ), people have stumbled upon this irritating tradition of stealing the groom’s shoes. The tradition is that the groom is supposed to be teased and then asked to pay his in-laws to get his shoes back.

In times when the grooms were milking the brides dry with their dowry demands, perhaps there was some poetic justice in this. Now it makes no sense. But then again I wouldn’t be doing a traditional marriage if I skip these traditions.

Then the marriage part, which I am going to skip in the post- its getting to long.

After the wedding is the tradition in which people are supposed to not let the newly wed sleep.

Well everyone has to fall asleep after that . And I dont want to wake them up as well as the rest of the others. It is a nice opportunity for both of us to catch some sleep..my poor wife will suffer even more than me cause her rituals are more elaborate. Now will be the best time for us to sleep. Except for a minor technicality: everybody was asleep, there aint any room for us. And I do need my room baby!

Well just as I thought I was going to sing, they fell asleep. And I didn’t want to wake them up as well as the rest of the others. It was a nice opportunity for both of us to catch some sleep..my poor wife had been suffering even more than me cause her rituals are more elaborate. Now was the best time for us to sleep. Except for a minor technicality: everybody was asleep, there wasn’t any room for us. And I do need my room baby!

Now reflections. What one carries with him once the thing is over. Well really it wasn’t over yet, there would be some ceremonies next day, and lot of misty-eyed weeping during the farewell

As I said what any shrink will tell you is that the important thing is what I got out of the experience. Firstly a marriage ceremony is so lengthy and ends up being such torture that no one in their right mind would ever get married twice. That’s the problem with Christian marriages: they are too small and painless. Hence the high divorce rate in Western countries. Over here we have perfected a marriage technique so that the groom over and over again is reminded of his responsibilities. He is made to sit in revealing clothing so that people can see he is more or less physically ok. His suppleness is tested by the ballerina toes, his intuition by putting the vermilion without looking at the bride, how easily he can part with cash by all the tips he has to give to all and sundry, and in sum his patience is tested all throughout. The upshot is you would never again want to go through with this.

As for the importance I got , like all fame, it’s all ephemeral. No matter how much I disliked being the center of attraction, it felt a whole lot worse when everything was over and I went back to being my regular Joe once again.

But no that day did change me in a way. It was that day which made me the most important person in my wife’s life. And that’s what made it worth the while. No matter how insignificant I may be, no matter how many regret letters I get from jobs and flames from my advisor, no matter how fat I am and how many consecutive zeroes I get while batting there is one person to whom I will always be number one. Once the music dies, the glitter of ornaments vanish into the night and the flowers wither away,that is the only feeling that remains.

Now all I need is the bride- please sign up below.

Or you could leave a comment- only if you are a guy or you are not hot.

Anhedonia

Having trouble with the opposite sex- I date doctor Hysum has come to your rescue- I may not be Will Smith but I too can be quite the fresh price.

Rule number one

Ask her out- You see someone you like ask them out

Remember

He who hesitates- masturbates

Rule number two

Give her a call a few hours before the actual date – to get a sense of how she’s feeling- but don’t talk for too long.

A long talk before a date is the Dating equivalent of a complete rectal examination.

Rule number Three

When you first meet her- give her a complement

Here’s a good one- I think you are very cool- you are also looking very hot- you are cold and hot like Malaria- I wish I was black and living in a third world country so I could catch you.

Rule number four

Woman love gifts- tell her you got her one and she will get to open the “package” later in the night.

Rule number Five

Don’t wear underwear and let her know it.

Rule number six

When giving her a ride (in a car) open the door so she can get in- Then apologize for opening the backdoor and tell her that’s for later.

Rule number seven

Lick your food seductively.

Remember

Sex alleviates tension and love causes it.

Rule number eight

When she talks pretend you are listening- when she is not talking pretend you want to listen

Rule number eight

Talk about romantic, mystical things- Tell her you believe in destiny, soul mates and the supernatural (after all how else could you explain your giant penis)

Rule number nine

A condom on a date keeps the doctor away.

Rule number ten

What to do after that I will explain using poetry (the language of love)

One- two – Unbuckle your pants and your shoe

Three- four- Shut the door

Five- six- pick up stick

Seven- eight- lay her straight

Nine- ten- A BIG FAT HEN.

AND THE FINAL AND MOST IMPORTANT RULE

- THERE ARE NO RULES. You cant learn how to be good on a date,thats like learning to be midget and no matter what the shrinks, or the pundits, or the self-help books tell you, when it comes to love, it's luck.

AND ONE MORE RULE

- There actually are rules I only wrote there are no rules because it sounds cool. okay it doesnt sound cool but I wanted to do it anyway.

The meaning of life

I am not pessimist- I see the glass half full, half full of poison.

Don’t get me wrong here, I am not paranoid- as a matter fact I am the exact opposite of paranoid- I walk around with the insane delusion that people actually like me.

People call me the worst kind of whore there is, the kind that sells himself short. I of course disagree- I think I do things to the best of my ability even if that’s not saying much. You could say I whore if you think about the fact that I do things for one buck- but I don’t do it for the money (it’s not much) and I don’t do it because it a dare- I do it for tradition- Be it receiving a buck or meeting at “THE SPOT” I do it for tradition- I enjoy tradition- Tradition gives me the illusion of permanence.

The question is have I learned anything about life. Only that human being are divided into mind and body. The mind embraces all the nobler aspirations, like poetry and philosophy, but the body has all the fun. The important thing, I think, is not to be bitter... .

What did I think about GOD- I believe in him but I also believe he is an underachiever- I mean look at us.

What do I think of death well, there are worse things in life than death. If you've ever been alone, you know what I'm talking about. The key is, to not think of death as an end, but as more of a very effective way to cut down on your expenses.

As for life- it’s like a game of twister- it has it’s ups and downs- twist and turns and at the end whether you are the first one to fall or the last “man” standing- you always end up twisted and in pain- but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have fun.

Regarding Love- To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness- Love is the world’s biggest paradox and that is the reason why many don’t find true love or are separated from their what they love- because we didnt the universe would implode.

So Dark The Con Of Man

The Da Vinci code movie recently became the 10^th highest grossing movie of all time. I personally believe the movie could have done much better if they made a few changes in it, a few tweaks here and there to make the movie more suitable to wider audiences. Here’s a list of things they should have done.

- Add more sex

- Have a more bankable lead star- replace Tom hanks with Mithun

- Add songs and dance

- Add a romantic comedy angle

- Add more sex( as a matter of fact make it porn)

Keeping these changes in my mind I present to you my own version of Da Vinci code

The Da Vinci Load

Our story starts with professor long-john giving a symbology speech in France. He stands at the podium talking about symbols. Camera zoom in to below the podium where Long-John is getting it Clinton style.

Screen cuts to the Louver- the curator- played here by Monica Beluchi (I know she is not French but as long as she is a hot foreigner it doesn’t matter) is being chased by an albino man. She runs in slow motion in true Baywatch style- she gets shot (using a gun that is) - so she does what any woman in her position would do- she strips (again in slow motion) and spreads eagle on the floor.

Screen cuts to the symbology conference the cops come in and ask Long-john to come with them as there has been a murder in the Louver. Lang- John refuses to go with them until the cops show him the picture of the naked curator- Long-john zips up and zooms out to the museum.

Being the perfectionist that he is Long-john examines every inch of the curators’ body for clues than does it again in case he missed something. The French police officer shows the professor the cryptic message the curator had left before dying to her death. The code reads D3669.

This is when the hot French woman playing the role of Sophie NoBrain, the famous police cryptologist barges in, she like all hot French women is wearing a French maids outfit. She surreptitiously hands long-john a visiting card which has a 1 900 number ($2.99/minute + tax) scribbled on it. Wasting no time he calls it to hear NoBrain’s voice telling him, to not make any expression of alarm and come meet her in the ladies restroom.

Prof. Long-john, used to such urgent encounters with strangers in rest rooms, hurries to the meeting place making some excuse to the Captain, after all seeing the curator that way has set off all sorts of thoughts in his head. But no- Things are quite different.

NoBrain warns him of the grave danger Prof Long-john is in. The French captain had not brought him in as an advisor but as the prime suspect. They have no intention of letting Long-john walk out of the museum unarrested. Because there is something Long-john does not know–a line that curator wrote which the police have wiped away before he came.

It said “I need Long-john”

It said “I need Long-john badly”.

Professor Long-john smiles slightly. He had deduced the curator’s intentions long ago—this was merely a confirmation. After all who did not “need” him?

NoBrain, no mean cryptologist tells Long-john her interpretation of the symbols with wide-eyed wonder.

“Sir, 3, 6 and 9 are in Arithmetic progression. Also 3 + 6= 9. 666 means the devil and we all know that 9 can be read as 6. Also “d” can also be looked upon as 9 after some transformation geometry”.

Long-john is willing to have nothing of it.

He replies thatshe is all wrong and corrects her by saying “d3669 actually should be read as 36d and 69—-the only two alphanumeric concepts he or the hot curator could have known. That plus the “I want Long- John” and everything made sense.

Long- john now speaks his mind “Enough talk. Now give me a kiss”

NoBrain smiles coyly: “But sir, the French police”.

Long-john says:” Use your brain. Cops- A lovely lass. Hero needs to make a get-a-away.”

NoBrain gets the message. Soon she starts dancing a seductive number, after a costume change. Two backup dancers repeating “Sha la” emerge from the shady nooks and crannies of the Louvre —one is called Mona and the other, yes you guessed it, Lisa. More follow. The French police are lost in music and lust and Long-john escapes through the window.

And so begins the most intellectually stimulating part of the movie where the Professor, Sir JavaBean and Nobrian try to decipher the reason why the Professor and NoBrain are being pursued. What deadly secret have they stumbled upon? —a secret so explosive that it could eject a load. A secret so explosive it can shake the foundations of humanity, chastity and tities in general.

Can you break the code.

Riddle me this

If I took a male hen (a cock) and peeled of the shin from its forehead would it be circumcision

What should happen if someone farted in hell?

Whose idea was it to eat the thing that comes out of a chicken’s ass?

Are all books plagiarized from the dictionary?

If environmentalists get to tie themselves to trees, what would happen if I became a feminist?

Am I racist if I own a coloured television?

Why do remote controls have eject buttons?

What did the chicken want to do on the other side?

And finally the most important question. I did not come up with this question myself but it is one that has plagued man kind and Dwieki since the beginning of time.

WHY OH WHY ISNT IT CALLED PUNAL?