Party Symbol: Why To Take it Seriously

To catch the fish... credit: www.teleguone.com

With the emergence of Jhaadu (Broom) in the wake of this election-season, "party symbols" are now much more than just a way to open the doors of voting for illiterates. Hardly the Big-two (the BJP and the Congress), until Delhi Assembly Elections, had any idea about what a broom could do except sweeping the dirt out of a household.

There were more than 80 symbols that were unclaimed when AAP party decided to go with a "Broom". How thoughtful! A common-man would have hardly taken a minute before associating himself with a Jhaadu, and I don't think I have to explain what importance a Jhaadu has in the life of a common-women.

Did the BJP or the Congress contemplate before choosing their symbols? I don't think so.

The BJP is identified with "Lotus". Where does a lotus grow? Yes, in the mud. Is the BJP trying to say that India is a mud where the Lotus (read BJP) blooms? Despite an aesthetic facet of this symbol, I do not appreciate it.

The Congress is no different. What best can a stretched erected palm signify? Stop. What really Congress strives to stop? Is it economic prosperity, or GDP growth, or employment, or simply a speeding truck on a busy Indian road? And the worst part is, presence of this very symbol along with the text 'Indian National Congress' on Electronic Voting Machines may persuade voters to STOP and think twice before pressing the blue button juxtaposing the name of the party.

Talking about other players of regional importance, Mulayam Singh Yadav boasts his conventional “bicycle”. While this symbol can amuse a few environmentalists, it can tick-off the new aspiring middle-class of Indian society for which "class" means nothing less than a "car" as long as that car is not "Nano".

Taking a lesson or two from this episode, any new party, planning to contest the election, should think hard before choosing its party-symbol. I am listing a few of these with their possible meaning. Feel free to lift any; these are approved by the Election Commission of India.

Batsman

In a country, obsessed with cricket, nothing could be better than having Batsman as party-symbol. Fortunately, the IPL will have started by the time election starts and thus every batsman will influence party's potential voters and that too for free.

Frock

Now this seems weird but a potent symbol nevertheless. Since the idea of women empowerment gaining steam, this party symbol could cash in on this opportunity. However, women are better identified with a saree or a salwar-suit but in the absence of these in the list of allowed party symbols, frock will serve the purpose equally well (A party can also use "Lady Purse", which is also available as free symbol, if the idea of "Frock" is not going down well).

Coconut

Indians use coconut on auspicious days, usually to mark a new beginning. We buy a new home, we break a coconut. We buy a new scooter, we break a coconut. In majority of Pujas, we break many coconuts. Going a little further, in a temple, located in south, priests break coconut on the head of blessing-seekers.

This kind of emotional attachment to the coconut renders it impossible for the people to ignore it on the EVM.

Cot (Chaarpai)

This is a direct passage to the hearts of rural India, which has a big role to play in these Lok Sabha elections. Sitting on this cot, a Sarpanch solves even most sensitive of the cases within minutes. Sitting on this cot, a rural woman can spend hours gossiping everyone's life but theirs. This cot, for years, has been serving as a hospital bed in those villages where medical facilities are squalid. If a party looking for soliciting support of rural people, a cot can be its best bet.

Pee India Pee!

How many times have you seen ugly looking wall, a potential toilet for the passers-by, painted with even uglier paint that says, "Gadhe ke puut, yahan na muut" (Son of a donkey, don't pee here. By the way sounds more intriguing in Hindi)? Uncountable, Right?

I can't help but to think do we people really have a weak bladder? Or India has a scarcity of 'Public Washrooms'? Or the time taken by heavy traffic defeats the average time for which a man can hold his liquid together?

I am not one among the people who stains (public) wall for free but looking at their miserable conditions, I bet there must be many.

What kind of a place serves as a perfect spot to save your bladder from bursting itself out of pressure of a liquid nitrogenous waste? The answer is blatantly present everywhere. A relatively deserted place, out of the focus of eyes looking straight, a few complementary dogs, ill-structured shops and houses that are constituting the wall and few fellow people already doing what you intend to do manifesting the legitimacy of the act at that place. The corners are as preferred as lower seats in a typical sleeper coach of Indians trains but the catch is, you can never be sure of getting it. Although there is no rule book or any law defining where the people can or can't pee, few have taken a stand condemning atrocities against wall that has by no stretch meant for public use. The clear example was in the very first paragraph. One more common example is "Look, a donkey is peeing..." Ironically, the paint itself make the wall dirtier and hardly does this paint pay any dividend. 29% of the males in India are illiterate so whatever written on the wall hardly makes any sense to them. So, they end up peeing on that very same spot where these golden words are inscribed.

Let's talk about the other 71%. Many of them do not actually prefer using these unofficial public toilets. May be because derogatory remarks painted on the wall, may be but very unlikely a concern for degrading beauty of city. However, the nature of this 71% of literate population is highly unpredictable.

This problem lies at the heart of poor infrastructure if some planners are to be believed. But the entire picture is different. I live in Jaipur that is boasts of many public washrooms. Due to absence of any mechanism that would predict how likely a man is to pee at a certain place renders it impossible to construct these washrooms through a perfect planned way but still these are good in numbers. The only catch that contributes to catch-22 of the people is the amount they need to pay for using these washrooms. For a man, who fights for every crumb of bread, paying Rs. 1 for getting rid of a waste is a waste. Even it occurs to the relatively affluent once that why to pay when we can have our way for free. Aesthetes pay the price but who cares!

No politician promises, let alone changing the status quo, to make his city beautiful. It would be too hard for me to expect that people are going to change. They will keep spitting, keep peeing. But, if there can be petrol pump every kilometer there can be free washrooms as well complemented with an awareness program.

My fellow people! hold on a bit, drive slow but not that slow which will compel you to search a 'relatively deserted place', and Pee with pride at your home.            

College Story: An End to this Endless Saga

In my previous installment of college story, I had left you all (in case you have had read) at 7th semester of my Engineering and also promised you to bring one last part of this havoc.
You can read all these here:

College Story (Part 1)
College Story (Part-2)
College Story (Part-3)
College Story (Part-4)
College Story (Part-5)
College Story (Part-6)
College Story (Part-7)
College Story (Part-8)
College Story (Part-9)

Well, here I am with the last installment which is arriving after the departure of almost every colleague from the last year of my college.

After getting rid of all 7th semester's exams, it was time for 'much-awaited' 8th semester. This last semester makes us realize that these 3-4 month are going to mark your last days in college. Also, this semester had just four easy subjects to clear in order to move out into a more crueler world. However, the glimpses of the cruelty had already knocked the college's door. Placements! It is a race for you to grab an apple when hundreds of other students just like howling hungry dogs, who have waited all four years to eat the flesh, are standing to do the same. These placement times can give you worst of nightmares, can dump your confidence to the rags, or can land you on the moon, on a single day.

It would not have been surprising for me if I were shown the exit gates at some technical company's interview but all my confidence got gutted when I was thrown out from very first round of a BPO company. Although, not only me, but all my friends were enjoying the same pleasure of getting knocked out in first obstacle itself.

Worse was still to follow; \another mail from Sujit Mukherjee (our TPO who seems like the only man who has seen Dinosaurs evolving and disappearing) appeared in my Yahoo inbox. Another non-technical company (Shree Ram Finance) was on verge to take students and give them a title of "Placed". I was too desperate to get a hold this time. Speaking in English at the time of interview was concerning me this time as I had experienced a let-down at previous occasion where all I need is to introduce myself.

The guy, who was giving the presentation, was proved to be a source of inspiration. Not because of his inspiring words, but because of his own skills, as hardly he had spoken a single correct English sentence during the presentation and I thought if he could get a place in this company, everybody sitting in the room can.

This time, self-introduction or preliminary interview wasn't the first round but an aptitude test. I had 45 minutes in my pocket to solve 100 easy question, an easy task I thought. The timer went on so did I but it is timer which won the race. I was solving 76th question before the screen disappeared; I was out of the game again. It was seeming like even dolphins may have better IQ than mine. For those who have selected in the round, needed to be appear for an Interview, the next day.

Life makes you see the steepest of curves. Steeper the cliff from which you are going down, greater the momentum you gain to climb its upper side.

The same day (when I failed to clear first round of Shree Ram) in evening, one of my friend sent me a mail about another recruitment drive which was supposed to commence at a consultancy institute. With a very little juice left in me, I somehow edited my CV once again and read the company's profile. The next day, many of my friends were appearing for final round of Shree Ram and I was sitting for a new and fresh start.

Time for the first round and for me this round was like fighting at frontier, barehanded. Luckily, I made it to list this time. 2nd round was Group Discussion. There were 10 other in my GD batch who accompanied me for this round and time that was allotted was just 3 minutes. Topic had been fired and a boy initiated the discussion as if he had been made to serve his thoughts at gun-point. He went on until interrupted by another girl. She went on with her jumbled sentences and let others to make meaning out of those. I was the third to take the hold of torch. I tried to be calm and straightforward with my points and, Hureeeeee! I was among the best of 2 who got selected for the interview.

My confidence was sky-high and thus screwing the interview was out of question. Finally, I was placed, at 3.1 lakh package, way better than Shree Ram which was offering 2.2 lakh. Had I been selected at first round of Shree Ram, I wouldn't have appeared for the company I got placed into with better package. That day I believed, God do everything with a purpose.

The days became better all-of-sudden. Well wishes from all the relatives, happy faces of parents, and self-confidence, all poured in at once. I was definitely climbing the upper side of the curve.        

Events to follow were quite interesting including the batch party where unbelievably everything went as per plan. Party was scheduled at Area 51, which is a lounge. It was coming out to be around Rs. 350 per head and minimum 30 students were required. Making at least 30 unsocial animals of IT, the party once by making them pay 350 seemed to be a tedious task. But the response came out as if the whole IT class was really feeling sorry for parting out.

On the decided day of batch party we all met and danced like how well we know each other. However, in reality, exchanging files and assignments was the only source of communication among different groups which had somehow formed and remained intact till that batch party.

College gave us a surprise too by organizing a convocation, first time for any batch passing out from GIT. Convocation went well in parts. I got the tag of boy with 'leadership qualities', however I have had never been even a monitor of my class. Ceremony ended with a 'samosa' which we had got as snacks. So after spending four years in college, all we got is "ALOO" and a certificate which was tied with a ribbon giving us a feeling of a degree. Yes we got a graduate's apron too, but we need to give it back so that the next day the same apron could be worn by other would-be graduates. Photos got clicked, smiles were exchanged and samosas were gulped.

This was the end and this is the end. These four years will remain memorable in form of words of College Stories and every time I will read it, I cherish these moments. No matter how bad these posts may go, I have always been honest with whatever I have written throughout. Without considering the reviews I kept on writing College Story one after other, I hope all these went not that bad.

Au Revoir!!!!  

College Story: Assignments, Viva and other Blood suckers

This post is purely dedicated to few studious minds of our class. They are such a god gifted talent that they can ruin their own college life along with ruining others. From fighting for attendances to spoiling the mass bunks, they will do everything to blew the lid off from some average minds like me.

 Before entering into college boundaries I had heard about the fantastic ‘I-Don’t-Give-A-Damn’ style life in engineering, now I curse those mouths from where these words oozed. With my admission in first year I was quite sure of having the fun at the fullest but with advancement in semesters; our rights kept on getting suppressed, one after the other.

Our college wasn't like this before. A great lawn to sit on, common subjects (which was simply unifying each branch with the bond of commonness), fairly good teachers except the orthodox kind like farha and the real daughter of ‘Hitler’ Sama Jain, and last but not the least, lot of single girls to take a chance on, were few factors which somehow kept the hope alive that yes, this life could get better and better with passing semesters. But all hopes bite the dust as all we progressively faced are harsher rules, cunning teachers and fast paced commitments which claimed some of the pretty faces of our college.

1^st Year:

There were nothing like rigid rules in 1^st year. IT/CS branch were ignorant of the Ramani’s Effect (HOD of IT/CS). We could leave and enter our college at our own will. Except only one lady figure, Sama Jain, who had been tightening the screws, and ‘Goti’ (chemistry lab in-charge, I forgot his original name) who was famous for sucking the megaminds of students on their slightest of error, others remained quite cool. There was nothing like assignments except few small questions which were never a big deal. Fraha mam was our physics teachers then and according to her philosophy, a boy and girl sitting together is not less than a sin as they could develop sexual arousal any day and do what this society doesn’t give permission to do before marriage (Rebuilding the era of 80s cinema). Similarly, Sama was no less than ‘dress regulator’ as she restricted the use of funky boyish apparels while making sure that the girls are not showing their flesh to the crook hunters sitting under the same roof. Thus there was a complete ban on loose t-shirts, hand bands etc. and for girls she advised to maintain transparency in their character only, not in dresses. Once when she spotted a boy wearing bob marley’s T-shirt in college, she taunted “Mall mein ghumne jar he ho kya?” Look at the spontaneity of that boy. He replied, “Nhi mam, kal ke practical ke baad jaungaa.” I don’t know if he said this in ignorance or what.      

2^nd Year:

Computer geniuses were compelled to study each and every subject from each and every branch. Digital Electronics, Electronic devices and circuits, Micro-processor was giving us fully fledged experience of a crash course in Electrical department along with Computer Engineering. Further, due to shortage in syllabus few other management subjects were brutally injected. But let me tell you, these GIT management guys are not too bad as they provided us with a very nice (obviously by face) female teacher of Economics. I rarely had missed her class.

SOFT skill was taught by HARD muscle, Saundra Mam, I think the most eligible teacher of GIT. Leaving teachers and subjects the other thing haunted us were frequently changing rules including the one in which you could enter into college at your own will but can’t leave until all lectures were completed. We, the group of four friends, however found a way through under construction building of our college and started jumping a college wall which was not that long and thus made us the free bird most of the times. We meanwhile discovered few officially untraceable ‘Khopchas’ but what’s their use without a hot piece of cake beside you. After few successful attempts of wall jumping that wall got elongated and thus our movement got brutally barricaded.   

I have already wrote a lot about love stories cooked so replicating those will only hurt my ‘still-to-be-touched’ heart. Group friends kept adding the woes in 2^nd year. Actually a group with many commitments is not actually a group. Then it becomes a way to enjoy moments with commitment by hiding behind the backs of group friends. It had been the case throughout this year.

3^rd Year:

The beginning of 3^rd year was marked by some real reshuffle. The focus was almost shifted to our own IT branch with a lot of specialized subjects but it was too late for me to develop love all over again on these subjects. The rise in the era of assignments was marked in this year only. Innocence was dumped in the bins of assignment and registers were started absorbing the inks, page after page. 

The specialized subjects lead to brain smashing programs whose complexity used to be talk of alien for us until major practicals.

 When a hard practical is being examined by a cunning teacher then all you can say is “Ye practical kisi tarah nikal jaye bas. Next baar to le lenge iss teacher ki.” “Yaar, it’s enough. Ab dhang se padhenge. Fir dekhenge saala kya bolta hai.” Practical over so our resolutions. ‘Giriraj’ (lab in chage of DBMS lab) had almost promised to handover a back to me due to my impressive performance in his subject’s practical. Actually I was supposed to run 8 queries. I was able to run just 1 and even in that query I was asked to display items sold in store but I was shamelessly showing him the full DB table believing the full table is always better than a single column. Viva was another haunted dream for me especially when Bohra sir was used to sit in front of us. Now, whatever the question was, I gave him the answer I knew and whatever the answer was, he always used to play with my emotions. My old group shattered into pairs of two and I found few more creatures to hang out with. In this same phase most of my friends in the circle lost their virginity although never discussed it among us before gutting a peg or two. I had no stories to tell. For me, arrange marriage is the only hope alive. :D

4^th year:

In this running 4^th year, our branch is on the verge of setting new records in copied assignments. The glorious minds of our class think that doing assignments will improve their percentage and someday Facebook will come and hire them for earning those extra percentages due to aimlessly done assignments. 

Every teacher knows that all they need to show a crumb of bread to these glorious minds and rest is assured. They will run for these crumbs rumbling their own time along with ours.

This 4^th year was also blessed us with 30 days training. We played ‘Roadrash’ for 29 days and on the last day we grabbed an already made project from our mentor. How easy was that? But when you don’t actually make a project, you are actually giving a chance to your college teacher to bully you in front of whole class (in a project seminar) or give you a date to personally rape you (in viva).

As feared, day came when we (four members group, Manish, Dinesh, Me, Ashwarya) had to appear in front of ‘external’ to give a viva on project.  We, four, had already a discussion on Who does what in the project as it generally used to be the first question of teacher? Finally we appeared in front of the teacher. We told him what we had discussed earlier.

Dinesh said “I have done coding”.

“I have also done coding” manish repeated.

“Sir, I have done the testing part” Ashwarya said with ultimate confidence as if he had actually done the testing.

“My task was designing.” I whispered looking at suspicious face of the external.

“So, Ashwarya, you have done testing. Right? So tell me how many times of testing are there.” Asked external.

Confidence drowned, so does the face. Ashwarya kept twisting among words ‘Sir basically………..basically sir’…….

“Your testing procedure was manual or automatic?” he fired second question sensing a lamb, half-slaughtered already.

“Automatic” Ashwarya replied at once and we thought he might know the correct answer this time but our hope shackled by the bulling laugh of external. He had just answered that sensing the 50% probability of getting it right. On being asked about what is scope of the project he repeated the words as if he was firing back the same question to external. “Scope…………kya hota hai??? Ki………Kaise define karenge…………………………..” Ashwarya was himself choosing the correct format of the question.

“What is designing?” he asked from me and after my answer he was quite sure that we four had nothing to do with this project. Dinesh might have given few answers but the kind of impression we had on the external, it was so easy for him to negotiate 1 or 2 correct answers.

At the time of writing this piece of shi* that viva was the last one.

Exams are just over and I am now in my last phase of Engineering. Many say that 8^th semester is cake walk but who knows if some cake spoilers is waiting ahead.

That's almost it. This is obviously not the concluding part of College Story. Every time when I write one, thinks of making it the last one but somehow this story is not coming to an end. So, a slightly more atayachaar on the fans of William Shakespeare.  It is such a long post and if you are reading this line then I have to admit, your patience is amazing. And now those who started reading from here only, I have just one word, Glorious minds…….:D

If you have spotted a lot of mistakes in my post you can be a part of “Let’s stop the crime on literary world” campaign by typing “Stop this College Story and delete your blog” in comment section. Till then, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my readers and criticizers.  

Setting-baazi, Love, Relationships etc.

Meet us! We are the so called 'Mard Jaats'. We are in abundance, 1000 for every 938 girls and demand weakens with supply. We 'Mards' have been cursed with every spell been ever made, from the 'connoisseur of sex' to 'ill mannered freak' there hardly been a single tag left with which we have never refereed to. Problem lies in our abundance.

Let me explain, I am a simple Engineering student. Talking about my class, it has around 15 girls and 45 boys and my class has one of the highest proportion of girls. The condition of core branches has always been pathetic with hardly 3 to 4 girls, in which only 1 or 2 are there without mustache. After filtering odd ones out, we only left on the mercy of 'not more than 2 to 3 pretty girls/class' on an average and for these '2 to 3 girls, whole class bang their head'. Few boys end up liking their photos on 'Facebook' and few keep proposing them over the messages in disguised form of 'love shayaris'. We boys have nothing like attitude. If a girl don't reply for half an hour we decide to not to reply to her message ever. The next second, when your mobile beeps and her name appears as sender, you happily open her message with an unusual smile and reply as soon as possible to not to lose the momentarily gained momentum. Story repeats and our pseudo commitments too. This attitude thing is really bringing a bad name for us. Problem lies in abundance, they are hens with golden eggs, we are cocks with nothing to lay.

There was a guy I don't want to take name of. When he entered our group of 6, we already had 2 couples, and two others were, me and another girl. I have an old record of being single in group of committed ones. The newly entered guy was quick enough to smell the existing dynamics. Don't know if he had a book of '101 ways to woo girls' or what, he seriously put that single girl by his side. From 'arranging chair to make her sit' to 'giving her handkerchief whenever she wanted' he did everything. She was so impressed with her new pet that she suggested me :
"Ashish, you never cares. Be like him and soon you would get your girlfriend".

I can never treat a girl like 'Abla Naaris' , specially when i am in a group of friends.

A faithful dog can soon earn an owner for him and that guy proved it.....:D

Now there is another side of story. My physics teacher had once told me that always explain others by giving them an example. Demo in terms of 'Phunsuk Wangdu' but i don't have 'Chutnney' right now. I had already given you one (not 'Chhutney', I am talking about Example.)

I was in first year of my Engineering, when i met a girl. (Not of my college). She was damn good looking. It is their look which deceives us. I was mesmerized and then followed what you can easily guess. Things went normal till the time we got committed. Later, I lost my wings and she lost her patience. We broke after 4 month of commitment.
 

According to a survey, 7 in every 10 break ups, are initiated by males. Why things take a tide against shore after commitment? What irritates the boys most, Who is really responsible?

See, I am not an expert but i have been through few relationships(I am being a super stud, it's actually 3 or say 2 because last one was an accident.) After these three/two relationships I came to know about the hidden secrets of being single. Below, listed problems are experienced by me. In your case, it can be different. Apologies to girls reading the post. Most of the facts are funny, fact is what they are :    

1). JANU/BABY/SHONA/GUDDA, I will not leave a single nickname for you:

Get ready to get 'poopies' messages from your 'GF'. It is the first pre-settled rule to get and give a nickname. A single nickname??? Not sure. You will enjoy these nicknames in the beginning with the hope that later on she would stop calling you with such annoying names, but to your regret, she will never. Her bonding with your nicknames will get stronger and stronger with time. Adding to your woes, she can discover new ones too. This is not all, she will expect a nickname for her too, and you have to reply to her messages with those names. See the demo, directly from my long deleted inbox:

"Missing you my Baby"

"Muaahh.....My bacchaa"

"Mera Shonu, monu Gudda"

They could give us a single name and we can grow an appetite for it too but no, If they can use several names, they will. 

2). Work???? What the hell is this??

Girls can never be a professional or practical in commitment. Your GF has no work to do. She sit, she sleep, she wake up with her cellphone and will keep reminding you that you have it too. If she is a hosteler, congrats, 'Aapki to Batti lag gyi'.

"Janu, Babu kya kar rha hai? Apni shona ko miss kar rha hai??" (Miss to tab karega naa jab yaad ayegi, Tu to yaad se jaati bhi nhi ki fir aa jati hai.)

From 'Good Morning' to 'Good Night', she will not leave a single event of the day. This is not all, you have to reply to all these messages.

"For her's every 'Good Morning' message there should be a counter 'Good Morning' reply from you, otherwise she can turn your 'Good morning' into What-the-hell-is-good-in-this-morning"

"Baby what are you doing?" This message simply means, you have to talk to me right now.

In the case of your excuse of work she would simply say, "Han han, tum hi busy ho. Hum to vellen hain."  and unknowingly, she is actually telling you the truth. 

3). For being my true boyfriend, You have to learn the tales of my family:

They can talk about their families for hours. Starting right from Ma-Papa, passing through Chacha-Chachi, Mama-Mami,  she will take you to her favorite cousins. Not once but many times, whenever she want, she can start with her 'Amar Chitra Katha'.

"My family cares a lot for me. My brother, my Ma-Papa, everybody loves me."

(Ohho, so your family cares for you. Lucky one, Hame to ghar se dhakke maar ke nikaal diya gya hai.)

We boys don't express what we need not to".
There is nothing like obvious in the dictionary of Girls. This 'obvious' word can shorten their endless talks so they don't care about its existence.

4). Bed Time stories : You have to listen to her every activity of the day:

I already told you that these girls have no work to do except sending you the 'Poopies' messages all day but never mind, they are good in story-telling.  

"I met my childhood friend today. Wow!!!" 

(Oh it's really exiting, provided your friend must be hot.)

"Tumhari jaanu ne aj maggi bhi khayi" 

(Oh really?? Maggi?? How did you get it. From Himalayas? Oh my baby, I am proud of you.)

"Itni garmi hai, mujhe to rashes ho gye" 

(Now what do you want, should i come and apply Boroline?)

"Aj main ladd li apne best friend se" Console her. Doesn't matter she is right or wrong, just console her.
 (Koi baat nhi baby, she does not deserve to be your friend.)

 She would tell you her future plans too.

"Kal to hum shopping pe jayenge" (................)

I really loved to keep quite on these lines. If you give her an enthusiastic reply she can call you to shopping with her other friends on too. Shopping with your Gf's friend can simply land you into 'No man's Land'. 


 5). This word "NARAAZ" :

This word has been a blockbuster in every known relationship. Being Naaraz frequently is the favorite timepass for girls. They can spend their and waste their bf's hour on this word 'Naraaz'. A normal person don't like anybody's company when he is annoyed or angry but 'Women are from Venus'.

One girl always pings me on Facebook after getting into a fight with her BF (who is friend of mine too).

"Usse bolna ki main naaraaz hun." (Oh..so you get into fight for amusement too. Obviously, he knows that you must be upset. What's left to tell him then?)

Like i earlier said, 'Obvious' do not exist in their dictionary.

"I am really breaking up with my BF." (So what, should i fill the vacancy?)

They do not think twice before sharing anything that should not be shared at that point of time.

6). Oleeeeeeeeeeee....Babyyyyyyyyy......Awwwwwwwwww:

Buy a 'pamper' and give it to your Gf. She would tug it around your waist. I can't understand the purpose behind stretching the last word to an unbearable extent. We are not babies. Are we?

B : "I get a backache/headache."
G : "Awwwwwwwwwwwwww"
B : "My hand got Injured"
G :"oleeeeeeee baby" 
B : "I am hungry"   
G : "Ooooo, mera januuuuu bhukha hai." (Keep guessing, whether she is asking it more time or just repeating your words in Cheesy Dipped language.) 

 
7). Look straight, talk with me :

When you have your own lunch box, don't try to look for what others have in theirs. We 'Mard Jaats' are 'born-flirts' for girls.
Your GF would never allow you to look at other girls. There can be two reasons behind it:

1). It would make her feel that she is not looking as pretty as the girl you are looking at.

2). She would think that his bf is not as interested in her anymore.

"I don't like when you talk with that girl. What if i start talking to XYZ?"
(Aree ja na meri maa, Kisne roka hai.)

8). Your friends have plans to kill you. Stay with me : 

A girl can never like you to be one among the bunch of boys. She keeps a record of time which you have spent with her vs. time spent with your boys group. She can never bear the fact that instead talking to her you are boozing with your friends.

"Pee rhe hoge friends ke saath. Meri to yaad aati nhi." (Tumhare saath peeyun to accha lagega kya.)

"Be Jungli, or whatever, I don't have to say a word now." (Thank god!)

"I don't have to say a word......" Girls talk a lot after delivering this line. Beware! They are from Venus. 

This isn't enough. Going for an outing with common group of friends?? Stay within the distance of 10 cm from her. Sit beside her always, hold her hand sometime to make her believe that yes, you still like her. Don't talk with other friends beyond her limit of acceptance etc. etc.

"Jao jao, ussi ko phone karo. Tab to bda ucchal ucchal ke taali maar rhe the."

This is all. I am finding no words to close this post off formally.
So, keep visiting. Fortunately, i have a comment box below this post. Drop your views and let me know what do you think.

Thank you for being with my writing.

Hasta Luego!!!!

Boy Who polished the boots

Every morning he would sit on the farther side of road, leading to 'Ryan School'. He was a boy, hardly 9 year old, who used to polish shoes of children of that school. His boot polish store had one small carpet, few torn shoes, a steel cisterns with few pennies and a stone which acted as a raised platform where he used to put shoes to polish.
Today, there was something unusual. It was around 11.30 in morning and students were piled up for getting their shoe polished. He was quivering from one shoe to other, brushing the every bit of dirt from them with his brush and small box of 'Cherry Blossom', without knowing the reason behind such curiosity of students for getting their shoe polished.
Few minutes later, someone summoned them. There were still few left with unpolished shoes but the penny box was almost full with glittering pennies. They all ran towards the gate. After a minute or so, children came out with a large blue banner made from rayon cloth along with few others posters. It was looking like a rally as students lined on both sides of the road.
Police jeeps arrived at the spot. A policeman came to the boy.
'What are you doing here? Chal jaldi,Saamaan samet.' he threatened the boy.
Without an utter, boy folded his belongings in a wide cloth that hadn't been sewed for years, made his pocket gulp the penny box and stood by the side of 'neem' tree which was a few meter away from road's side. He was willing to see what is going on, on the most unappealing place of the world. His pocket was way heavier then it used to be on other days. He was quite sure about his meal under overhead sun and with the sum he had, he could even get food in night too.
An hour passed, students were still standing with their banners resting on ground. Suddenly their chat and buzz interrupted with several jeeps, tailing one another, and somewhere in middle of them, was a red-beacon ambassador. Students were once again on their toes, holding the banner upright. A women in white saree with maroon border came out of the ambassador with red-beacon. Children rushed to greet her and in turn she was greeting them too with a smile.
Boy was staring them all with his lid-less eyes. He couldn't listen to what the lady was saying to those children but their polished shoes were making an attempt to introduce him in the scene too. He almost forgot his heavy pocket. Minutes later, she peeped in her ambassador. Principal made his presence felt at very last moment as he gave her the good bye gesture.
Boot polisher counted the number of 'Jeeps' right passed him till 'chaar'. This is all he could count.
Blue banners held high till the crew disappeared.
'Ryan International School - We strive towards 'Right to Education' was written with silver paint, on that big blue banner.
Boy, with a boot polish store on his back, opened that steel penny-box and took out some coins. He had to buy a new 'dabba' of 'Cherry Blossom' for the next day.

Splash of Love

On the beach, I was holding sand in my palm. I slipped them and they got mingled with million others. Disappeared, Indistinguishable. "Our lives are like those sand in my palm. It slipped and we found ourselves nowhere among million other" I said.

She bent and grasped those beach sand, drenched it with the water from the bottle. Shen flipped her palm and the wet sand fell again. This time distinguishable, different from other lying nearby. We could have made our life distinct from others, but it might missed a splash of love and care.

 I asked, "Who can guess, this is we?"  pointing to those wet sand which were still lying the same way they fell.

'At least we can' she grinned.

Sea was calmly snoring. It has lost the grace it had when we were couples.