10 WAYS TO WOO A GIRL!

10 WAYS TO WOO A GIRL!

            He used an Axe Bar soap and fantasized about all the hot women he saw in the television ad. The lather grew in volume as he rubbed on and on that piece of cleanser against his body parts while the steady stream of water sprinkling from the shower head flowed out with many cubic centimetres of dead skin for more than one dreamy hour! By that time, he was too neat and endowed with an aroma that if he dared walk out into the open, he ought to have ladies drawing in and caressing him while engaging their noses to smell him with uncontrollable erotic sniffs!

However, he was sane enough to have not ventured out half naked! Instead he chose carefully an Amul Macho vest and a Macro Man underwear and though he did not look that awesome in the mirror, maybe partly due to his particularly thin build and much too hairy un-shapely legs, he was still characteristically hopeful about wonders later in the day!

He drew out his Gillette shaving kit to deal with the still inconspicuous but potentially damaging weedy beard because it constituted a daily ritual which was sine qua non in case he was presented with the much expected feeling of velvety feminine cheeks rubbing against his own!

He sniffed his armpits and though the Axe fragrance lingered on those ten minutes, he had to plan for better things which required him to opt one among his armoury ranging from Wild Stone and Cobra to Axe deodorants, all of which held promises to deliver mesmerizing results! He fancied his opportunities for the day were more akin to the Wild Stone ad!

The Fair and Handsome cream was applied much as a routine than with any expectation of that magical moment when ladies would be swooning at his definitely fairer skin tone which never happened in the past one year!

His fingers stroked his hair in random directions to adjust it in the perfect manner as he felt he must do when he applied Set Wet gel because he could not afford to do it in the less correct way lest he gets any less return for the product value much like the zero count of ladies who ever praised his hair-do!

            November meant that by the time he was halfway into his experiments, he felt a chill and thus he pulled out his Scott Thermal Wear which could only bolster his prospects!

            He clicked a picture of his own with his Xperia Tipo smart phone and rather than inspecting the photo, he weighed the phone and the many promises it would deliver in the future before he put it into his pocket!

            His Hero Igniter motorbike awaited him so that he could vroom away in style because he deserved all the attention in the streets, supposedly abound only with pretty eyes taking note of his fleeting presence!

            He wore Relaxo sandals to keep him on a firm footing!

            One year was too less time to have expected any semblance of positive results and he was willing to persevere! 

           

Holiday Diary: Two Facts

            There are two standout observations in the hundred kilometres journey from Guwahati to Barpeta via Hajo. The first is simple arithmetic comprising of a counting job unshakeably imposed by the vexation of having to stumble upon so many speed-breakers! I would almost have emulated any neurotic in getting the correct sum total today but for the occasional inattention caused by the scare of death due to near-collision events with Wingers driven by idiotically reckless weirdos racing amongst themselves just in the hope of winning another customer to sit on the rooftop of their vehicles because all room inside happens to be jam-packed! Surely there are close to seventy speed-breakers that rankles a stiff backbone!

            The second thing is the uniformity of the dress code of the exponentially proliferating population all throughout! A striped blue lungi and a white cap is appreciable universality! The demography, unlike previously, is thus undeniably becoming indistinguishable from that of the neighbouring country with whom we share a highly porous border! Whosoever disagrees is surely an ostrich!

OH SO TRENDY! THRASH A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!

OH SO TRENDY! THRASH A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!

She was a young and petite woman with a soft voice and a benevolent face unlike the more common elderly shrill and tyrannical kind. The general opinion was that she was a good nurse who did her duties well. A few hours past midnight, she was called upon to look at one of the patients of her ward.

The patient was a frail and elderly woman whose lungs were consumed by tuberculosis and it must have been a few months of familial neglect that culminated in making it so difficult for the unfortunate old lady to breathe in air to stay alive. A few wonder drugs and nursing care had prolonged her survival for some hours but her health was too damaged to let her fight her battle against death with any degree of miraculous success.

The men who flanked the nurse as she approached the sick and decrepit patient had been well informed at the outset about the lost cause and it so appeared that they accepted that eventuality. However, when the nurse began to administer cardiopulmonary resuscitation to the unmoving body of the patient, a totally untoward reaction occurred. The burly men, who were the sons and nephews of the old lady, immediately zeroed in on the solitary nurse as their enemy and began to curse her with expletives and then manhandled her. The equation in their minds was that since their patient died at her hands, thus making her services ‘zero value’, she should as well not be allowed to live! The malevolent temerity of their act was unopposed in a ward where attendants of other patients were still undecided about which side to take as if there remained a moral dilemma to them! The fact that a few of them sported a grin each at the sight of several men beating a poor nurse was a display of their equally ungrateful and prejudiced minds. They seemed to empathize with the transformation of despairing relatives into uncontrollable assaulters and savoured every blow!

When a handicapped nursing orderly valiantly came to rescue the badly bruised and almost fainting lady, the emboldened assailants saw the opportunity to turn their ego-driven wrath on a male and their aggression knew no bounds! The poor fellow faced the brunt of the furious onslaught for several minutes and was left bleeding from many sites. They created a scene such that the doctor on duty could not reach his patient!

Herein, the sufferers were a nurse and a nursing orderly. Several such incidents take place in hospitals all over India where the life of healthcare providers is similarly threatened. ‘A doctor or a nurse was thrashed today’ is news that is increasing in frequency and every time such news unfortunately degenerates into a generalized discussion of all the shortcomings of the medical fraternity and its ungodly malpractices. Therefore a crime is justified again and again till it has become a trend and nobody cares any lesser.

It seems as if everyone in India, except the medical man, has the right to act in self-defense because the accepted thinking is that the attendants with a patient have an emotional license to do whatever they wish once things don’t work out according to their preference! Many times, it is a sordid spectacle of ego-driven power play and histrionics.

It is noteworthy that all hell breaks loose when the doctor evens the score of the blows on those who are intent on causing him mortal physical harm!

Delhi Diary 11

            An impatient by-stander in those painful extra O.T. hours that allowed the army of mosquitoes seize my rooms by the dusky time when I reached there; lonely hours with a large TV and a laptop and a substantial Domino's home-delivered meal with no one to share because Mr. Bharat has his in-laws and Mr.Mohsinur has a home-bound plane, making it a tedious eating job over an hour; uninteresting Champions League games and the guilt-ridden sight of dust settling over the books in the desk and the tiresome disinterest of picking anyone out of that stack; the hated inactivity and yet an abject surrender to the same demons to lie motionless in the bed pondering, planning, theorizing, reasoning, dreaming and feeling and reeling under many emotions and still shaking them off to watch the game on screen...it has been that kind of a day!

ASTROLOGY SUCKS!

ASTROLOGY SUCKS!

The red neon lights of the billboard was one of the attractions of the ‘Astrology Research Centre’ located in the basement of a building in the heart of Lajpat Nagar. Sunny Boy had thus reached his destination and I, as his companion, was lost between alternating states of wonderment and bewilderment.

We had travelled across twenty Metro Stations to get to that place. Reminiscences from the past hour included the six counts of tussles to get in and out of the train, the careless bumps, the rude pushes, the urgent nudges and the undisciplined jostling within the bogey besides the accelerated Brownian motion of the horde of super-busy people in the platforms. Such an industrious rush hour surely increased our blood pressures.

Sunny Boy pulled out the scroll in his pocket and verified the name on display. Below it was inscribed ‘Italian Red Coral – 9 Carats’. That was the prize he so dedicatedly sought and which accounted for the adventures of the day.

We pushed in a ginormous door made of designer glass and wood and found that a group of people awaited our entry to welcome us. There were two heavyweight Bouncers in charcoal colored uniform that also matched their skin tones. They flanked an elderly frail guardsman whose rifle weighed too heavy for him. There was also one female receptionist standing within her counter to the right of us. She had to her credit playfully big eyes and a pretty face but in all probability her austere dietary habits may have caused her to possess a body that looked more painfully malnourished than attractive. Yet she captured our attention for some time because it took us a while to notice two other diminutive boys or rather, urchins, who must have worked there with menial jobs. The lady apparently had an important position within the counter in one corner of the large room, the other three corners of which were adorned by exotic flowering plants of foreign origin within illuminated tubs. The room as a whole was an example of excellent interior designing with premium woodwork, extravagant furniture and elegant lighting and the price of the room was beyond our calculations. However, that was just the ante-room. We knew that, unseen to us, in his grand room inside, the famed astrologer could be consulted for a fee of 25 thousand!

My dear friend Sunny Boy however spared me such suffering. He possessed the prescription of an equally rich astrologer from another state of India. Sunny handed over the scroll to Kareena, who was the receptionist, and whose name we knew by that time because Sunny was a smooth-talker. She thus did a good job in engaging her customer for a profitable deal. She declared, ‘There are differently priced gems by that name and for every carat, you can pay any of 1000, 2000, 5000 or 10,000 bucks according to the quality’

I just observed in disbelief that Sunny Boy bought a nine carat stone doling out 45 thousand to appease his superstitious elder brother who morbidly believed that a ring in his finger could fight the demons of heavenly bodies to bring happiness in life more than a bank balance of the money expended!

Sunny Boy no longer had a sunny face when we exited that black hole of wealth!