Category Archives: humor

How I forgot my delicates and Rupa came to rescue.

Overconfidence and I are chaddi-buddies, we go back a long way. I can’t help it now, it’s in my genes (mental note – pitch the idea of jeans with an in-built underwear).

I find packing my stuff for travel a chore, so I delay it till the 11th hour, just to make it more challenging and exciting (1% of you will have a I-know-that-feeling smirk on your face, yeah, wipe it off, because we forget at least 1 item every time).

This time, I flew without my briefs (and boxers).

Not a big deal you may think, airport has those stores, but dear readers you have to keep my thrifty behaviour also in consideration. Also, paying Rs. 900 for Benetton boxers makes less sense when you can get Jockey for just Rs. 300 (5% of you are nodding your head in agreement, yeah, we are cheap and we know it).

So I touchdown Bombay at 10pm (yes, 10% of us still call it Bombay) and after checking into my hotel I take an auto, my instructions were clear – take me to any mall/market where I can buy underwear. Imagine how awkward the conversation would have been if we had more women auto drivers. #EqualityIsScarySometimes

My knight in three-wheeled chariot took me through silent alleys and deserted lanes (so much for a city that never sleeps) to JB market. I hopped from one shop to another, finding Jockey was a joke in these modest shops where Rupa, Shilpa and Sheeba ruled the shelves.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, I knew how packed my schedule for next three days was, and I knew how much I love my hygiene, especially waist down. So I did what the title suggests… (15% of you may remember Rupa Frontline ads. As kids, our favourite underwear joke was – Rupa ki underwear pehenoge toh Rupa kya pehnegi… gosh, we were dumb).

In a matter of hours, I was standing in front of a mirror, wearing one ill-fitting, ugly pastel coloured, snug in a surprisingly comfortable fabric. Those ugly ads at the back of auto rickshaws from my childhood became the harsh reality of my adulthood. A humbling experience this, it taught me one thing – that even if you stay at the best of hotels, concierge can’t help you with such brief hiccups.

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UNFRIEND NON-BELIEVERS.

And no, I’m not talking about the ones who criticise you to make you better. I’m not talking about friends who pull your leg when you fail. In fact, maybe it’s not about other individuals. Unfriend the little pesky non-believer in you if you have to.

The reasons for doing so:

  • These are people who never had their own “Everest”, so it’s not just that they don’t believe in you, they are probably incapable of understanding you. Isn’t that the first premise of any friendship/relationship?
  • Their doubt is contagious. Even if your will is as strong and determined as Mohd Ali, sometimes these naysayers punch you out with their expert negative logic (secret: they put weights of their failed past in their boxing gloves).
  • They sometimes make sense. And that’s the most dangerous part. If Edmund Hillary had a friend like this who constantly told him drop the very risky plan to conquer Mt. Everest, it would still be a virgin peak. Men who like to be on top, gimme 5!
  • They will always be there to say, “I told you so” and if your dreams are big you’ll have many failures; you don’t want that kinda negative energy around you when you are already down.
  • If you could time travel, you’d know these people won’t do anything spectacular with their lives. They would happily be the puppet of time/situation/peer pressure/so-called-righteousness/system/government/dysfunctional family and of course luck.
  • So unfriend them today, because an year from now you would regret not taking an action even though a great post warned you about these demons who feed on your dreams.

Good night.

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Not to brag, but I can smile in sign language.

For last 9 months I’ve been working with a great guy who’s deaf and mute. This is the first time I am doing something like this, and surprisingly it’s easy and awesome. At first, I had no clue how it was going to work out, as he is my art partner and I am in the business of communication.

So the exchange of ideas started with us writing stuff on a piece of paper. I couldn’t talk to him without my pen. And this is how it went sometimes:

Me: I think you should reduce the font size. 
Him: No.
Me: If you do it we’ll have more white space and the layout will look clean.
Him: Size is ok.
Me: Well, it’s totally your call. No pressure. But more white space means eyes will go straight to the message. It’ll be loud and clear and yet not in the face. It’ll be noticeable, but not shouting for attention. It’ll be there, but not there. You feeling me?
Him: Hmm…
Me: So will you do it?
Him: No.

From drawing letters on hands to typing on the phone to explaining stuff with hand gestures to laughing at client’s feedback, we’ve come a long way. Now I even know how to swear in sign language (just one word, and yes, mostly used for the same client).

What’s magical is that now he tells me about his family, how naughty his kids are, how hot the weather is outside, how much he hated Fan, and how bad Vodafone is, and that’s when I have to make calls for him posing as him to threat the telephone network. Sigh! We do all great things friends do.

Aren’t all human relationships similar? You can’t truly understand each other, but you still try to work things out. The only difference is that you expect the other person to understand you better, because technically you speak the same language. Maybe if you speak less and smile more (and obviously, smile it like you mean it), there will be less friction and more understanding.

Hey, it worked for me.

 

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February, show some love.

It seriously can’t be happening. Time is running like she’s any Delhi girl being followed by a Tata Sumo with ‘Jaat Boy’ sticker on its back. No wait, that’s not funny. I should not make fun of girls or Jaat Boyz.

It seems like yesterday, I was full of hope, energy, and resolutions (the same ones I made last year and the year before that). I was busy wondering about the biggest disappearing act of all time aka known as the ‘Year 2014’.

2015 is different. It’s so fast that it makes 2014 look like a pseudo-intellectual Bengali Art Film.

This year, I wanted to write a lot in my journal. Unfortunately, if you see my entries for the month of January you will find lesser words than a Salman Khan movie script (and we all know that’s just made of three words – BHAI KI ENTRY).

This year, I wanted to run regularly.
(Shhh… listen carefully, you can hear my Nike going LOL!)

This year, I wanted to save more money and lose all my debt. On a completely unrelated note, what’s the procedure of becoming a male stripper? Do I have to wax my chest?

February is here. It’s my birthday month, which basically means that it’s an official reminder for me to grow up and act my age. Just three days after my birthday is Valentine’s Day, which basically means that’s in an official reminder for me to grow up and let a woman change me so I can act my age.

My fingers are crossed. My hopes are still high. I still have 365-31 days to walk the talk. I hope February onwards, time slows down or I pace up. Coz the bucket list is long, fat is easy, money is a tease and I am reluctant to shave my chest to and dance around a pole.

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“Man, how can someone be so bad at decision making?” – Journal

Hi,

I am Shreyans’ journal. I am posting this without his knowledge. I am looking for help, guys. This guy is nuts. Do you even know how many times in a day he’d ask me stupid questions; like What am I doing with my life? Why love is so hard to find? Why do I keep going after the wrong girl? HOW WOULD I KNOW? I AM A FRIGGIN’ JOURNAL!

And did you know, he makes all his entries with a black-inked red Lamy. I mean, come on, give me some variety dude, some flavour, some ball pen action. Who uses an ink pen anyway? What year is it, 1882?

He carries me everywhere. In the dark abyss of his backpack, on the back seat of his car and sometimes even to a public restroom. Guys, I have seen so much of this guy. Quite literally.

Typos. I hate typos. But this guy, takes me for granted. No wonder, you are not getting laid dude, women like a man who can spell. Sigh!

Oh snap! He’s here. Guys, please rescue me. Break into his house at midnight, you’ll find me next to his bed. Take me somewhere far from this guy. I am sick of his stupid questions, his incessant ramblings, and his untimely writing pangs. SOS!

 

 

 

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Hey, hot girl in the gym, let me trip over a treadmill to impress you.

So, as you all know how big a fitness enthusiast I am. I am always at the gym. Okay, maybe not always, but I do workout four days a week. Okay fine, on Sundays. You know what, the gym instructor remembers my face so it’s not that bad.

So she was all dressed in black. Black tights, black tshirt and a cap, holding her black long hair tightly. And it was time for me to do what every male specie specimen would do. Impress the female with my sheer brutal power/Hercules like muscles/animal strength/or just by running on a treadmill for 7.5 minutes at 8kmph. It’s pretty much the same thing.

And guess what? I did finish the gargantuan fitness goal I had set for myself, and it was time to end it with a swagger. So I turn around on a running treadmill so I can slide off it like a hipster. Just a moment later I realised I was going too fast to make that turn and the conveyor belt was still rolling. BAM! I crashed on it. On my back I moved to the floor at the speed of infinite disgrace per hour.

Sometimes you are lucky and your embarrassing moments go unnoticed. Today, was not that day. Every one stopped their exercise to look at the moron who tripped on a treadmill. Even 70 year olds had a condescending smile on their faces. On a completely unrelated note, when did sympathy became extinct?

But to my horror, the very reason why I was inspired to perform this stunt was looking at me with sheer disgust in her eyes as she worked on her obliques.  It was time for me to think on my feet, so I used them to exit my gym nonchalantly.

Lesson learnt: Tashan Backfires!

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What I kept thinking while getting a full body massage.

  1. Is this the right size. Last time it got torn. Gosh! That was so embarrassing.
  2. Okay, I am waiting and no one’s here to attend to me. Brr…
  3. “Come in”. Hmm.. Not bad.
  4. Oui! Oil is hot. *tucks face in the pillow*
  5. Aaah… yes, get in there. Work on those ligaments.
  6. Whoa! You are friendly.
  7. No, Johnny, NO.
  8. *Moaning* *Moaning* *Moaning*
  9. So is she from Manipur or Mizoram or Nagaland or Thailand?
  10. Okay, where exactly is Manipur? Capital? Never mind.
  11. Aaah… Totally worth it!
  12. Happy Ending?
  13. No, Johnny, NO.
  14. *Turns* Yeah, the chest is tricky. Need to distract myself the most now.
  15. Why can’t they put a heavier towel?
  16. No, Johnny. NO. Don’t you dare rise…
  17. Need to think of something now, quick.
  18. Mayawati. Dog poop. Pig eating dog poop. Mayawati eating that pig. Vomit. Mayawati statue made of vomit. Snot. Puss. “NO JOHNNY NO”. Mayawati!
  19. “Yes, I’ll take steam”. Hang in there. We can get through this.
  20. 40 mins went so fast. Was it worth it?
  21. Oh yeah, neck! Yeah, my tired workaholic neck. Totally worth it.
  22. Good boy Johnny, good boy.
  23. “Thank you”. She was good!
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Why I don’t face Monday Morning Blues. Well, not every Monday at least.

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  • Because I can wear bathroom slippers to work.
  • Because the tshirt I am wearing right now says, “If you want a pretty nurse, you gotta be patient”.  BTW I have a serious client meeting today.
  • Because while writing this line my feet are on my table and the regional head just went past me giving me a hard stare though he knows the behavior is incorrigible.
  • Because I have an intern at my disposal who writes body copy for me and makes coffee to die for.
  • Because I have more than 5-6 corporate slaves a.k.a managers a.k.a Client Servicing Executives I can pick on when I get bored.
  • Because God always gave enough courage to stalk my dream relentlessly despite everyone telling me where the scope is.
  • Because today while driving to work I heard my radio spot on air.
  • Because if anyone at work catches me wasting time on twitter I tell them it’s a great way to practice writing great headlines under 140 characters. It’s funny how they believe my convincing argument.
  • Because my water bottle looks like this:
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  • Because my desk looks like this:
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  • Because when you have a sense of humor you look forward to cracking new ‘Monday Morning Blues’ jokes every week. Ironically, they make everyone happy.

So stop cribbing, grab a cup of coffee and earn your Friday night parties and Saturday morning hangovers. Go now!

 

 

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Women’s Day Special: Can stars help me flirt better?

depositphotos_6219019-Zodiac-signs

Aries: she is the alpha female of the pack, always at the front of the queue and kick-starting everything from projects to dinner dates. So, I’ll let her take the lead on the dance floor; she can hold the rose in her mouth and give it to me seductively.

Taurus: she has a hot and fiery temper, and will unleash it when pushed to the limits. So I need to carry enough songs in my i-pod that could calm her down. Because my stupid questions, on our date, will push her buttons. The wrong ones.

Gemini: she is extremely clever and has the ability to discuss every subject under the sun – politics, religion, travel – then just as easily switch to talking about the latest celebrity faux pas. So, I need two Ws for this. A Wingman and Wikipedia. And of course I’ll be wired like a cool secret agent.

Cancer: she is ruled by the Moon and her moods wax and wane like the lunar cycle. So no dates on a full moon night. She might turn into a Werewolf.

Leo: she is the one with the loudest laugh, the brightest smile, and the most confident strut of them all.  So all I need to do is dress up in a Zebra costume and she’ll feast on me. That’s easy.

Virgo: she is very discerning, a natural critic and a sharp analyzer of everything and everyone. Highly intuitive, she has the ability to sense what is off-key about a person or situation, and hone in onto this with intent to improve. So no flirting with this kind. They are way too smart.

Libra: she embodies fairness, justice, and balance. So discussing any popular unresolved court case where an innocent was wrongly accused will be the perfect ice breaker *start searching old newspapers*.

Scorpio: she should never be taken lightly. They aren’t fluffy or cuddly creatures by any stretch of the imagination. Direct, and brilliantly sharp, Scorpio women only focus on the fundamental essence of any issue and disregard the superfluous. So, asking “your place or mine” straightaway seems to be the only option. Sigh!

Sagittarius: She is versatile and exceedingly charming and enjoys every experience that comes her way. So, I have the liberty to use 10 different pick up lines on the same night. She might just like one of them!

Capricorn: she will often leave everyone else behind in the dust with her lofty ambition and inner drive, and toss anything or anyone out of the way to make her date with destiny. So be chivalrous and open doors for her, always. Avoid causalities.

Aquarius: she is the ultimate non-conformist. So I’ll ask for a ‘table for four’on our date, allowing her more space that every water bearer keeps cribbing about.

Pieces: she is a mysterious, sensual mermaid, her secrets kept secure behind inscrutable dark eyes. So definitely not going in a Pirate costume and not staring directly into her eyes. Getting carried away can be fatal here.

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It’s my way or the highway! Bow Wow.

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No matter how small, how immature, how insignificantly inexperienced they make you feel, stick to your paws…err…I mean guns. Learn how to deal with the officers/constables who are going to stop you from time to time and ask you for your licence to live. Keep it handy. It’s your smile. Your stupid, innocent, infectious, please-let-me-go-I-am-so-sweet smile. And it goes well with the puppy face, the one you make while chatting with your friends ^_^

Yes, there’ll be bigger, meaner, shit-expensive rides, riding alongside, on the road to your dreams, and it’s scarier to know that their destination happens to be the same, but don’t let those bitches intimidate you. Remember, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog. Plus, you have the mind controlling, decision changing, awwwwstrucking superpower called the Puppy Face. It’s okay if lightening and thunderstorm scare you into your comfort zone sometimes. It’s okay to hog on food, and letting people point out that you’ve got some of it on your nose. It’s okay to feel a little lost on the streets, you will find your way, if not, somebody else will pick you up and drop you home. Remember to thank them. Lick their face if you can, or go for something less inappropriate like a smile and a handshake. But let your smile reach your eyes. Always.

So, go ahead… go pee on poles and own them, mark territories as big as your ideas. Stay playful,  friendly, do open the doors for the woman who makes your tail go wagging. Stay innocent and believe in your dreams of becoming a top dog someday, because that’s how puppies roll.

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