Welcome to my World, welcome to my parlour

Here's a lie that will cheer you up...You're single only because of your  insanely high standards that no  person can possibly match.

Yeah...right.

Please keep saying that to yourself.

It takes the edge off being lonely.

But don't worry...you are not alone...(snicker)...millions more are alone just like you.

But relax.

 Here's a great myth that everyone, amazingly, believes: that everyone else is happy, having fun, living life, and you, all alone, are miserable. That everyone is out there, having amazing glorious sex, while you must content yourself with internet porn. 

        This isn’t true. Most people are in the exact same spot as you are. And those ‘glorious unions’ you see everywhere? Most of them are simply scared of being alone, so they go off and grab the nearest available person. The others are 'lying' together with vanity. 

        The big secret is that happy people aren’t as happy as they appear. Many happy people are actually covering up their real problems. But what do you do? You see one of these ‘happy’ people and then you get unhappy at them! You make yourselves miserable as you arrow nasty thoughts from your mind at them, and they don’t even know you. 

            You think, “It must be nice to be happy. They were born to the right parents, to the right environment. I wish I was like them. I wish I grew up where they did.” You think, “I have all these great qualities about myself. Why can’t someone see it?” Well, no one sees it because they are too worried about themselves.People are not ignoring you; they too are worried about themselves.

I say this because I used to know this girl, who appeared deliriously happy all the time, whenever I was there.

I later came to know that it was an act she used to put up for me.

(Why? I don't know)

She'd break down and crumble as soon as I left.Apparently, she confessed later, that it took a lot of effort and energy to keep up the act.

The strange thing was she wasn't doing this to impress me.

She didn't even like me in the first place.

Her world was a lie.

SO WHAT?

I've changed a lot.

Once upon a time, I was so busy caught up in playing the role of misunderstood loner that I forgot that it was just a role, a make believe persona.

I was caught up in the web of my world, the world of my construct, and no one else was allowed in.

It caused many misunderstandings.People thought I was stuck up...one person even told me that I was arrogant.

I was not.

I was only masking my shyness the best way I could.

People tell me I've changed each time I meet them.

Apparently, people try to define everyone else they meet.We do it all the time.

 We try to place people in nicely cut slots to mark where they go. 

Most people are static. A year from now, they will probably look the same, act the same, and be the same. But if you are in a state of flux, easily done through a self-improvement (or self-discovery if you will), every slot they try to stick you in will fail.

This is what one girl told me.

She told me that I elude definition.

She tried to put me in a slot and I wouldn't fit there, rather I'd seem to fit there only at certain times and not always...she told me that she eventually gave up.

BTW, she likes me...I mean I've seen girls, and I've seen her...she's the only one who willingly spends a lot of money on international calls.That's right she calls me.

A lot.

Interestingly she has a boyfriend.(or HAD...as she sometimes tells me...I don't know when she's telling the truth any more, and I don't care)

I don't understand her.

But I've stopped trying to understand women.

To me understanding women was a competition based on a fallacy.

A fallacy that women understand men.

A fallacy that women have a better understanding of people all the time.

What a crock of bullshit!

A girl scoffed at me once.

She said men can never understand women the way women understand men.

She told me that she understood men very well.Her tone was sarcastic and bitter.

Remember this.When a woman tells you that she understands men,she's telling you that she understands how to manipulate them.

She was a beautiful girl once, and I assume had many  men after her,but I bet that to her surprise she failed!

 She failed miserably in attracting a man she fell in love with. I suspect she fell in love with him in the first place because she could not get his attention.That drove her vanity to the edge and she fell in love.

(I confirmed it later...she did fall in love with an older man who acted as if she did not exist)

She woke me up.

Or rather her shattered self worth and self confidence woke me up.

If she , who claimed to know all men could fail, then she knew nothing.

I no longer believe that either sexes know anything about each other.

At least not in the way they want to.

These days I'm no longer worried about what people think about me.

You've read my posts...Do you think I would have written what I have if I was afraid of people?

If I've said that I have changed a lot that would be a lie too.

My core, my essence has not changed much.

I still inhabit a world of my own... for it is of my own construct and liking.The only difference is I let more people into my world.I let them decide.

For example, I tell I show people what I write...because what I write is reality-revised and rewritten...it is my world, reconstructed.

I let them explore my world and let them decide whether to immerse themselves more  or simply disengage.

But If they want to enter my world,then it would be at my terms...for my world is my sanctuary, my safe haven, it is hallowed grounds, and meant to be treated that way.

I like to engage people in my world...I call all my friends to my home...meet my family,see my place,get a feel of it, and enter my world. 

But I'm selfish.I demand equality.Other worlds and elsewheres are interesting.

So the principle of Quid Pro Quo applies.

I show you mine, you show me yours...so as to speak.

Most of my friendships have broken because of inequality.

So with that I invite you officially...

Welcome to my world...welcome to my parlour...take a look around......feel free to browse...but no touching the merchandise...and if you break it , you buy it...and I'll let you know when the closing time is...and if I like you, you might just get to stay a little longer.

Thank You.

Come Again.

Fatso:Six Pack Sharukh

Six Pack Sharukh

----------------

Indians have a very strange concept of personality.

A friend once said,"I once saw Fardeen Khan in the airport.Whatta grreat personality he has!"

I asked him to elaborate, and he said,"you know...he's big and looks muscular even in a suit"

I then realised that when they say that someone has a great personality, they are inavariably talking about physique or body.

Indian leading actors these days want to be percieved as eye candy.

Before that,they were more of 'Cotton candy' (I'm talking about body structures-shapeless and full of air).

So leading men and hordes of other lesser men regularly pump iron, pop pills,vitamins and supplements,chug protein shakes and gush sweat , all to achieve a great 'Personality'

                    (Salman Khan...known for his great personality rather than his acting skills)

                              (Hrithik Roshan )

     

            Leading men of the yester years now in comparision look like real,everyday men who come in all sizes and shapes.Dharmendra,the leading strongman of yester years or even Dara Singh , the real life wrestler turned actor did not have the kind of 'personality' that the modern steroid induced hulks with 'grreat personality' have.

                       Nevermind all the ridiculous infomercials with peppy,muscular caucasians speaking in corny dubbed vernacular, peddling overpriced exercise equipment of dubious quality and construction and equally dubious and preposterous  advertised results, Indians were never so hooked onto six packs until Six Pack Sharukh came along.

/div>

                                    Six Pack Sharukh and his Dard-e-Disco, where he gyrates topless with a bevy of scantily and garishly clad reed thin european girls in phantasmagorical locations to near meaningless lyrics was an instant hit and struck a blow to the buoyant egos of all flabby males of India.

These males then took an oath that they too will sport six packs like Six Pack Sharukh.

But the very next day most of them forgot their oath.

A few enrolled in gyms and after two sweaty and exhausting sessions never entered another gym again,and a few more with morsels of determination left in them, found out that the battle of bulge was never won in six weeks, like the infomercials promised.

And I kept wondering what the big fuss was all about.

I mean, while the rest of them discovered six pack sharukh and his washboard abs,I've had a six pack ever since sixth grade.

                    Ok,It's like this...If you've something all your life, it really doesn't mean much to you.

                I mean, if you have steel blades coming out of your fists, then you'd use it scratch your ass as well as cut your steak.

(ok fanboys, I know wolverine does not have steel claws,he had adamantium claws only after he was experimented upon by the military)

But what was the big deal? Six pack,schmix Pack ...who cares?

I don't...coz I already got them !

Everyone's a Photographer these days!

My new Nikon D5000

Me Too

The Greats Pt 2

Akbar The Great

A running Gag that ran out of steam.

The Greats

A setting sun captured in the Shan hai Guan Drydock

What Do You Say After You Say Hello?

One more marriage!

This was hilarious because I've never seen the bride before in my life.She is supposedly a distant cousin...which brings me to a philosophical question"Aren't we all distant cousins to each other ?"

This time I followed KCG's trick and surprised quite a few of my relatives!

"Of course I remember You, Uncle...How can I ever forget you?"

Usually I carry  a lifeline(more like a boreline) to weddings...like a book,my iPod or even a newspaper.This is to ensure that I'm not bored even for a minute.But this time, I went commando (No, I always wear boxers), with no lifelines in hand.

This is a brave new phase for me.

Things you notice:

There is an insidious and nefarious nexus of people in a marriage who come there for totally different reasons:Schmoozing, networking, matchmaking,flaunting,information exchange(gossip) and last but not the least...the saddest variety of  people  come here to have a grand wedding feast.

We had a few caucasians...they were from Netherlands.They were simply curious about all the weird and colurful and noisy rituals and wonderfully arcane customs of the wedding.They asked what it all meant.I simply shook my head and said "F#%$ knows"

Mom, as ever ,forced me to meet a few girls...and then surreptiously asked me if I liked any of them.The girls acted coy.I acted confident and charming.We exchanged perfunctory pleasantries.

It was all over within a minute.

Next!

As I've said before, I don't enjoy family gatherings.Once I go there, I meet people who I've categorized into these groups.

1)People I vaguely know.

2)People I don't know, but who know me (and ask me inane questions like "Hey , Remember Me?"

3)People who I am mutually strangers with.

4)People who I know but will avoid at all costs.(like that creepy old lady who likes to be touchy feely a lot)

5)Lastly...the Invisibles (these are people who are there but are not of any concern to you.For all practical purposes, they are invisible)

Group 1) and 2) pose the most problem.The problem being...What do you say after you say Hello?

Hello Aunty...nice seeing you here...Umm...er...excuse me, I've left my defibrillator in the parking lot!

Hello uncle! ...How are you...I'm fine...Hot day isn't it?...Umm...er...excuse me, my cat is getting a divorce, and I'm her lawyer...

What do you say after you say Hello? There's dead air between us...no history,no chemistry,and absolutely no interest in keeping the conversation alive...and that's when you come up with some brilliant excuses!

In any marriage you see, the females are there with a purpose, and men are there clutching their female's purse.

                                           Look at the females...aren't they social creatures?                      They are there for a reason...the old aunties are there to revive the 'Old Girls Network' .The young aunties are there to flaunt their new jewellry and saris.Mothers are on the lookout for eligible bachelors.Unmarried Daughters are there to be noticed.

I'm there because mom dragged me.Her greatest thrill these days is to show me to other people.Predictable reactions ensue "WHAT! DON'T TELL ME YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG SON! YOU LOOK SO YOUNG!"

I'm adopted...I grumble.

In looking at women's clothes in a wedding, one can always tell who's next in line, who's ready to be married off, by the degree of well dressedness.The bride is by default the best dressed female in the wedding.I think that's her only incentive to get married...to be princess for a day, and be envied by all others.

The second best dressed girl is usually next in line for marriage.She's there for a reason.It's her interview with all the people.She's smiling,nodding, and graciously answering everyone's questions.All this for a boy? Honey, he ain't worth all that effort.(But I am)

I met the second best dressed girl today...What do you say after you say Hello?

Apparently we knew each other once upon a time.I apologised and confessed that I didn't know who the hell she was, but spoke to her on the assumption of past chemistry(I used to pull at her pigtails and she used to beat me up when we were six)

What do you say after you say Hello?  Its no longer a problem.I talk about everything as if I've known them for years.

I found out that Me and M/s Pig Tail had a lot to talk about...

Scenes from a Torture Rack

(Rejected Title:Blood,Pain and Random thoughts on a dentist's chair)

Pain is good.It reassures you that you are alive.

I'm not afraid of pain.I've inherited the thick-buffalo-skinned high pain threshold gene from my dad's side.Me and my dad are often unfazed after a session of bumping and banging into things.As a kid, I used to poke needles into my skin just to show off!

Whirrrr!    The dental drill drones menacingly.

The masked dentist stops and tells" I'll have to go deeper into your gums.This might pain a little.Do you want an anaesthetic?"

"Not necessary Doc! " I reply

But you could've told this to me earlier when you were actually drilling into my tender and sensitive gums!

"Nope! I can bear it"

Whirrrrrr!    He continues.

This is the final stage of my dental restoration saga.Going against my friend's advice, I chose to have a Dental Bridge instead of a Dental Implant.Reason? Time Constraints.I simply could not wait for another two months.

Also, another friend had told me that the upper jaw has more porous bone structure than the lower jaw making it an un-viable and unreliable site for an implant.

Whirrrrrr! The drill drones.

My dentist is supposed to reduce my teeth by a millimeter...Now that doesn't seem like much, but believe me, the end result was that my pearly whites were reduced to mere stubs!

What you don't know cannot hurt you.

While sitting on the chair, I just realized that I had disproved the above saying.

While the dentist was cutting into my gums without informing me, it hurt a lot.

He then asked me to choose between numbness and pain, between feeling and un-feeling.The choice was obvious.Numbness would lose again.I'd always choose to feel.

But the pain was not as intense when I knew it would hurt.My mouth was open and a steady stream of blood,saliva & water dribbled on the apron, and all I could think was that the anticipation of pain had somehow numbed it down.

In life, it was only the pain that came out of nowhere and blindsided you that hurt you the most.For everything else,the coping mechanisms inside your head had ways of making you 'Comfortably Numb"

(The included picture is for humorous purposes only and does not intend to undermine my dentist's expertise or professionalism.BTW, my dentist's drill is much smaller, but equally effective in inflicting pain! Ha ha)

Undue Advantage

You probably ask your friends advice don't you?

But what if that advice pertains to the friends expertise...and usually they get paid for dispensing that advice?

Would you still do it?

Would you still do it in a non-professional setting?

Would you still do it in a casual setting knowing that they will not ask for remuneration?

Would you feel guilty?

I feel very guilty.It feels like I'm taking undue advantage of them.

But as friends who want the best for you and  have no monetary gain...they usually offer the best advice.I think.

What would you do if you saw Buddha today?

 

Are you a man or a mouse? (Check out hitler cat!)

Its downright humiliating when you are being taught lessons about Manhood by a woman.

Apparently apart from cockroaches I'm petrified of dead animals.

Strangely enough,dead people don't faze me.I have a morbid fascination with death in human beings.In fact I experience cognitive dissociation and dispassion.When I see a dead body My mind is immediately off the dead body and upon imponderables pertaining to the soul,karma and other heavenly concepts.

Overfed cats pose a significant problem in urban areas.

A cat is a cat is a cat.

And that is that. (sorry I have a compulsion to make words rhyme, often for no reason)

No one or nothing can change their feline nature.Their keenly honed senses and instincts cannot be denied.Their feral nature cannot be denied.Even when fed, they have to hunt simply for the thrill of the hunt itself.

Our cats usually bring in dead mice and rats and on one occasion a dead bat!

Remember Hitler Cat?

 

Yeah! All cats are Hitler cats...

What I mean to say is, all cats are sadistic in nature.Believe me, I've had 8 cats so far.

My cats usually bring a mouse half-dead and then toy with it till death.Chubby, one of my cats,is usually the one with the brightest disposition amongst all,but when she catches something, then she gets transformed into a bloodthirsty monster!

The torture has to be made into a spectacle.She will wait with the half dead victim until we arrive and then she will lead us towards it.What happens next is a very grim danse macabre.She will repeatedly toy around with the captive and inflict just enough pain to keep it alive, and then finally when bored, simply eat its head(so that its really dead?), crunching and munching all the way leaving the rest of the body to us.

You should witness the twinkle in her eyes when she has caught something.She is proud, and she wants to show it.She usually stashes her victim in some prominent part of the house where it is easy to be found and then she'll lead us there.She has left dead mice on my bed,the kitchen table,the living room sofa and on every carpet of the house.

Of course, I cry for Mommy every time,

I'm scared of the mangled bodies, the headless corpses of rats and mice and other dead creatures.Stephen King's 'Pet Sematary' comes to mind.                                                What if the apparently dead mouse springs back alive for one last hurrah with yours truly?

Brrr!

Today, I found another dead mouse...but Mommy wouldn't help.She said that it was time I became a man.

I tried to explain genetics...Mom...an 'x' chromosome and a 'y' chromosome combines and results in a man...and then cultural and gender stereotypes are imposed unfairly on the child during vital stages of development and the child's true potential is lost...OH MOMMY MOMMY I DON'T WANNA DO IT...PLEASE MOMMY...PLEASE!

Nope! Didn't work.I can't melt her heart like I used to when I was ten.

Since it was in my room , I had to clean the mess...she said

...like a man, she added at the end.

Yes I did it.

It was scary but I threw the mouse out after poking it several times to confirm its death.

I was a man.

Yay! (is it manly to say Yay?)

But minutes later  I was screaming like a girl when Chubby carried the same dead mouse inside the house once again.

Don't Look at The Moon Tonight !

              Legend has it that on this day , Ganesha , the hindu god with the elephant head and an obese human body and one extra set of hands was returning home after a grand feast on his behalf.
            Ganesha , our mythological gourmand and our favourite Deity, the destroyer of all obstacles had had more than his fill and his belly was bursting from its seams (though literally impossible)

 As Ganesha was walking back home late at night , he tripped and fell down and his belly which  was impossibly full and nearly bursting , burst open !  Embarrassed  , Ganesha hastily tied his stomach with a snake and resumed on his way.The sight of ganesha falling down and then using a snake as his belt was so comical that Chandra , the moon  burst out laughing !

            Laughter , they say ,when it comes and plops down and sits on your favourite  chair, you are at its mercy until it decides to go by itself.

       Chandra, the moon too was held captive by laughter and Chandra had fits of laughter that later degenerated into sobbing giggles that hurt his tummy.

          Infuriated by the lack of tact on the part of Chandra , the moon, and feeling very insulted and humiliated , Ganesha twisted and broke a part of his tusk and flung it towards the celestial Chandra, the moon forever scarring him.To add insult to injury , Ganesha cursed the scarred Chandra that whoever looked at Chandra on that particular day henceforth would be cursed with being falsely accused of something.

                    Of course, Hindu Gods always gave loopholes on the curses they inflicted.If you happened to watch Chandra on that particular day and did not want to be falsely blamed or accused of something , then you would have to pray to Ganesha and look at Ganesha's reflection in a plate filled with vermilion and water.       Voila ! No more curse !
 
Today was that day.

The day of Ganesh Chaturthi.

I saw the moon tonight.Click here for more.

But I'm not afraid.

Because I saw things that made me sad,angry and mad.

              I saw kids tormenting a tired and weary bitch with her newborn litter of puppies.It confirmed my belief that Humans are the worst kind of animals that God has created (if there is a god ).

            It made me mad that a gang of eight year old hoodlums could inflict such pain and suffering to a helpless creature and its defenseless children.The bitch chased the kids in a desperate attempt to save its litter....The kids were armed with bricks, stones and sticks and were expecting the bitch to retaliate.

            But they did not expect me.

           I chased the kids to protect the mother of the blameless litter of puppies which had barely opened their eyes.

           A bunch of eight year old kids can take on a single emaciated and weakened bitch, but they sure couldn't take on a 23 year old male determined to fight for what he thought was right.

So they ran.

The bitch barked at me once the kids were gone...just as a precaution.After all I was human too.

               I saw the futility in my act .These kids would be back soon.They were poor.They did not even go to school.They had neglecting parents.The kids would be back.And sadly it was not entirely their fault.  I hoped that the bitch saw the futility of its actions too and that it would move away to a more suitable place.

As I left , I prayed for the safety of its family.

         Unbelongingness has long plagued me,and often I have  ended up questioning my purpose and existence , with no satisfactory answers forthcoming.

              I'd walk with my people if I could find them.There were so many false starts, so many crushed expectations, so many false hopes that I'm discouraged to find them anymore.

            "I belong to you " is the biggest lie I've ever told.(Apart from the size of my penis - yes its actually 2 inches longer than what I've told you )
I belong to everyone and no one.

I later went to an old age home and orphanage.It confirmed my belief about humans once again.The old age home was filled with old and the dying and the abandoned and the neglected and the abused and the forgotten and the uncared for.The orphanage was filled with the same...unwanted girls, kids born out of wedlock, abandoned due to poverty and discarded due to mental instability .

It was not their fault.They simply did not belong anymore.

But here they seemed occupied. They seemed happy .Here they belonged somewhere.

      If you don't belong anywhere...my friend...then we belong to each other because we share that common thread of unbelongingness.

I understand.

                   I felt really small when I wrote that cheque to the caretaker.She assured me that she would send me the tax exemption forms along with the receipt for my donation.

Was this all I could do ?  Just give them money ?  Was there anything more?

They assured me that my donation would help educate a girl child for a year.
I felt ashamed because I could afford to give more but did not. But I noticed that all the people at that place who formerly did not belong were happy.It was a festive occasion.It was Ganesh Chaturthi ,the birthday of Lord Ganesha , India's most popular God , who on his birthday had overeaten and fallen down and cursed Chandra the moon.

Seeing their happiness, I was happy to find one instance that humans were not the worst of Gods creations.

Back at home, I remembered that I had inadvertently seen Chandra, the moon.He was waxing slowly. I then went and saw Ganesha's reflection in a bowl filled with vermilion and water , and prayed to him to make this world a better place.

Bachna Ae Haseeno

Rating:	★★★
Category:	Movies
Genre:	Romantic Comedy

This is not a review of Bachna Ae Haseeno.
Its all about me !
Yes , it might come as shock to you (or may be not ) but I'm very self centered.

In this movie , Ranbir Kapoor plays a serial seducer, a player who doesn't really let a string of broken hearts bother him too much.

Although I did go to the movie with 3 females (strange coincidence ?), I didn't feel one bit like Raj Sharma, the lead of Bachna Ae Haseeno.

Infact , I realised that I'm nothing like him , or can never be.

And started making a mental list right there.

Here it is ...reasons why I'm not a seducer(or will never be)

1)Its my personality .I'm a charmer, not a seducer...After being with me you'll end up smiling, laughing and feeling good about yourself.

2)My hobbies include visiting art galleries(they're mostly free !) , museums and book stores and other boring things.

3)Watching movies is akin to a religious experience.If you expect any monkey business, you'll be disappointed.I keep my hands to myself !

4)I don't eat out .I don't like to.

5)I never make the first move...never had to !

6)I can never seem to tell when someone likes me or not.(I just assume that they all like me and act accordingly)

7)I can't flirt even if my life depended on it.The art of double entendre and erotic insinuation is lost on me.

8)I'm a mama's boy.It might seem counter intuitive, but mama's boys make better relationship material, but most women don't think so.

9)I constantly tell women that I'm very inexperienced and bad with women.

10)I seriously don't expect anyone to fall in love with me.So I'm not on the lookout right now.

Back to the movie...I'll give you a foolproof method to seduce anyone.
Its easy ,according to Dr.Raj Persaud, the author of 'Simply Irresistible' , because there is one psychological trick that is guaranteed to make almost anyone fall in love with you :' Identify your target's favourite emotion , then simply go out of your way to supply that emotion in quantities that person has never experienced before' he says.

That's what Raj Sharma does with Mahi.What she wants is to revisit and re-experience DDLJ .Raj does that .
Radhika needs someone to be besides her , to share her life.Raj does that.
Gayathri needs to realise on her own that she is in love.(Remember" Absence makes the heart grow fonder" !)
But seduction, like love is always mutual.It is a two-way street, and Raj requires a broken heart to realise that.

So Raj decides to make amends and apologise to Mahi and Radhika, but doing so proves to be much more difficult than he initially thought.

The questions posed to the viewers are ...
1)Will Raj get his forgiveness and Love ?

2)Will the second half be as good as the first half ?

3)Did Minissha get her teeth fixed since Shaurya ?

Let me answer those ...
1)Yes and Yes (Sorry for spoiling the movie !)

2)No.The second half is unnecessarily long and emotionally weak .Also we are forced to endure an obligatory Punjaabi Shaadi with loud dances and louder dresses.(Yash Raj would like you to believe that India ends at punjab and that southern states don't exist in bollywood)

3)My friend,a very famous dental surgeon tells me they are veneers.Quick and effective!

The surprise package of the movie is Hiten Paintal, son of Goofy Paintal(who played Shakuni in Mahabharat).He is riotously hilarious.Ranbir is okay, Bipasha is stunning, Deepika is charming and Minissha unfortunately is the odd man out (or rather odd woman out) looking plain and ugly at all times.

All in all, a good timepass movie which could have been much better if it had a shortened and taut second half.

Tell me a Story...

Bonding and Understanding through Storytelling.-Marguerite Theophil

Story does not only entertain us ; it helps us construct identities for ourselves and our communities to learn , to grow , to find options and meanings , to heal , and to understand our world-its environment , creatures and its different kinds of people.

         Story pitches us into a space of multiple realities ."Once upon a time ", or "Long , long ago, when animals used to speak to men and men to animals , and both to god" -such ' beginnings ' toss us into another , more receptive space than the defined one we live and work in.

             Unlike in this 'reality' where everything must fit and make sense , story offers us other realities , allowing for the unexpected , the magical  , for awakenings and insights , clarity and direction , and sometimes for the persistently inexplicable to stay just that way.

             Story delights and teaches people of all ages , children and adults .Story is a great medium for educators , managers , therapists, clergy and business people regardless of age groups.

           Story communicates through images .Among storytellers , it is a know fact that stories are received image by image , not word by word.Our most enduring learnings happen through thoughts , feelings and connections generated by images .My favourite anecdote is of the story of a young boy , who when asked if he liked the TV or audio version of the same programme replied "The audio tapes -the pictures were much better "

              Story helps us in meaning -making .Story -whether about animals , fairies or humans connect us with our humanness and links past , [resent and future by teaching us  to anticipate the possible consequences of our actions.

              While listening to story or reading for sheer joy  is wonderful , sometimes we feel drawn to go deeper, to make a story our ally in meaning-making or healing.It's good to remember that while a particular story can open us all to a general lesson , really responding to a story is an extremely personal process.Each one Will connect to different aspects of a story responding according to a current 'nurturance need'-taking from a story what he needs at that particular time.

                 Story is 'healing medicine' .Not only traditional stories , but alsop personal narrative can be inspiring and healing, and can be a powerful basis for personal ,professional or organisational development.Exploring and sharing true stories is valuable for self help or self improvement , even organisational understanding nd bonding for team improvement , and to stimulate creativity.

                  Story generates true community ."An individual , an organisation , or a society that encourages and engages in story sharing invites others in.Ignoring or withholding stories keeps us ignorant and isolated; it is neither practical nor wise" says Dolly Berthelot , a storyteller.

               Since the time we gathered around campfires , or later collected in village squares , stories have helped teach , influence and bind people.Stories have fostered the understanding of self , of others , and of life-which is so important for creating healthy community.This understanding is deeply needed today , as we battle divisive forces , within and without .We can recover the wisdom and power of story to help us live and work together in healthy communities.

So , Tell me a story , tell me Your story.

Blogworthy ?

blog-worthy	(adj):
	When something happens in your day that is worth mentioning on your blog (web log). Mike, "I can't believe that just happened. That is totally crazy." Chad, "Make sure you Blog It." MIke, "Ya, that is totally blog-worthy."

 

I thought I was following shakespeare's footsteps when I thought up of a word called blogworthy.It turns out many people before me have invented this word.So I cannot take credit for it.

It's an obsession of mine.All day as I observe , I make mental notes of al the events and experiences .These are basically categorised into two categories , viz. Blogworthy and Non-blogworthy.

It would be blogworthy because :

1)It is new

2)It is interesting.

3)It reflects me in some obscure way.

4)It is a brand new experience (for me)

5)It is strange/weird.

6)It is informative and something I want everyone to know that I know ;)

7)It is insanely hilarious.

8)I no longer want to keep it a secret.

9)Its something I created and want to share.

10)Its something I'm proud of.

11)Its something that makes me mad /angry/frustrated/sad.

All the subjects which do not meet one or all the requirements are non-blogworthy .

Are you Blogworthy ?

The Relationship Manual

                           Middle-class husbands are like appliances.They come with a manual of
instructions which you are supposed to read before install them.They are guaranteed by the church and Good Housekeeping , but the guarantee is void if you don't follow the
instructions.There are maintenance manulas on every newsstand telling you how to keep them oiled properly.And when you have worn one out , madam , you can turn him in for a good
price at the courthouse , after which you can stop worrying and send your clothes to the
laundry. Then you will have plenty of free time on your hands which you can use to sit
around the house and bite your nails.

                             Middle-Class wives are also like appliances .They come with a manual of
instructions you are supposed to read before you install them.They are guaranteed by the
Church and the Good Housekeeping, but the gurantee is void if you don't follow the
instructions.There are maintenance manuals on every newsstand telling you how to keep them  oiled properly.The difference is that instead of your wearing her out , sir , she wears you
out , and instead of your turning her in and getting part of your money back , she turns you in and you have you keep up the payments .What kind of washing machine is that ? No
wonder some men prefer the laundromat.

Dr.Eric Berne (Author of Games People Play )

So here's a skeleton manual for dealing with introverts in various relationships.



While some introverts are perfectly happy without a committed relationship , most prefer to
be intimately involved with someone.

             To avoid having to make the first move , introverts often find partners by being set up on dates or introduced by a friend, co-worker or family member.This arrangement seems to be
Fine with women , but it fails with a man , as he must always be the overt initiator in any
relatioship , as per the unwritten laws of the society.Men , If you wanna , U gotta make
the first move .

                  We see many introverts married or in a partnership with extroverts , and there are several good reasons for this .For one thing , there are more extroverts -thrre extroverts for
every one introvert - and they are easier to meet .While introverts may be surfing the
Internet , taking a solo bike ride , or snuggled up reading at home , extroverts are out
there mingling -at parties , sports clubs , or professional organizations .And then there's
the issue of 'otherness;.Carl Jung thought that as humans we are constantly seeking to be a
complete person.Therefore , he believed , we are attracted to and select mates who are our
opposites.Another reason introverts are drawn to extroverts is because extroverts often
assume the talking and "doing" duties in the relationship , which means introverts can
relax and feel less pressured.

                                       To introverts , extroverts look as if they could leap tall buildings in a
single leap .Look , up in the sky , it's SuperExtrovert.
(If you are reading this , this is why I like you very much, you know who you are)



Lets look at some of the permutations and combinations of a typical Introvert Extrovert couple relationship dynamics.



The advantages and Challenges of a Intro male-Intro female relationship.

Advantages

They listen attentively to each other

They are patient about thinking things over.

They understand each other's needs for privacy and quiet.

They have fewer conflicts.

Challenges

They may lose touch with the outside world.

They may see everything in terms of themselves.

They may avoid discussing conflicts , differences and separate needs.

They may rely on each other for too many emotional needs.


Advantages and Challenges of a Extro male-intro female relationship

Advantages

The female listens to the male

The male partner encourages the female to be active and social.

She has more freedom because her partner makes few demands on her time.

He has more personal autonomy because his partner enjoys her time alone.


Challenges

The male often lacks intimacy skills.

The female partner may not talk about her thoughts and feelings.

He may blame her for all the failures in the relatioship; she may accept the blame or

ignore it .

She may have trouble asking directly for what she wants.


(Often , an intro female is attracted to the extro male .Why not ? He is warm , friendly ,

outgoing )


Advantages and Challenges of a Intro male-extro female relationship.

Advantages

The woman may have more power than in traditional relationships

the man listens to her and values her opinion.

He has less pressure to take the lead.

Both partners have presonal space , and they balance each other's activity levels.


Challenges

The man can feel suffocated by the woman

The woman may not have emotional needs met ; she may become demanding.

She may feel ashamed of her partner ; she may see himself as weak , passive , or avoiding.

His self esteem may decline.

Moby-Porcelain

Moby porcelain video original


Great work from Moby ..hope your all apreciate it !

Also one of my most favourite songs.

Being A Man

Hey Men , Do You Agree with Neil Strauss's view of Male Sexuality ?

Mostly Yes.

 

 0

Mostly No.

 

 1

I'm Not Sure.

 

 0

None Of your Bloody Business !

 

 0

An excerpt from "The Game "

Author : Neil Strauss

Male sexuality on the surface may seem like it runs rampant in society-there are strip clubs , porn websites , Maxim-style magazines , and titillating advertisements everywhere.But , despite all this , true male desire is often kept repressed.

Men think about sex more than they will ever admit to women ,or to each other .Teachers think about fucking their students , fathers think about fucking their daughter's friends, doctors think about fucking their patients.And Right now , for every woman with an iota of sex appeal (that means you , if you are a female reading this !) , there's probably a man somewhere in the world who's touching himself and thinking about what it would be like to fuck her.She may not even know him : He may be that businessman who walked past her in the street  or the college student who sat across her on the subway.And any man who tells a woman otherwise is most likely doing so because he's trying to get in her pants , or pants of someone else within earshot.The great lie of modern dating is that in order to sleep with a woman , a man must pretend initially as if he doesn't want to  !

Most appalling to woman is the male obsession with strippers , porn stars and teenage girls.It is abhorrent because it threatens a woman's reality .if all men really desire a woman like that , where does that leave her marriage and happily ever after fantasies? She is doomed to live them with a man who really wants a Victoria's secret model  or the neighbour's daughter or that dominatrix in the video he hides in his closet.As a woman ages , an 18 year old will always remain 18 .Love is dashed on the rocks in the face of the possibility that a man doesn't want a person but a body.

Fortunately , this is not the entire truth .Men are visual thinkers , thus we're often deceived by our eyes.But the truth is that fantasy is often better than reality.Most men eventually learn that lesson.

Men are not dogs, We merely think we are and , on occasion , act as if we are.But , by believing in our nobler nature , women have the amazing power to inspire us to live up to it.This is the reason why men tend to fear commitment and sometimes , even rebel against it by endeavoring to bring out the worst in a woman.

A few Personal comments.

Though Neil Strauss is trying to represent all men -folk , I feel like I don't fit in.

First of all , despite the recent posts claiming otherwise , I'm all for love (before sex)

And I don't think of fucking every other girl/woman just because I happen to find her attractive/beautiful/sexy/slutty /hot(Be my guest , add your own adjective)

And , NO, I'm not saying this because I'm trying to get into some girls pants (or what ever she might be wearing).I don't have a secret agenda here.I just think Neil Strauss is misrepresenting us.(or at least me) Any comments?

Also , for some reason , I think I was born monogamous.Don't ask me how or why .

Men are visual thinkers.But here i deviate a bit.A part from visual thinking , I;m my large an aural thinker.I think and hear my thoughts , and for posterity , I record them : in a diary , notebook , my journal , a scrap of paper , my voice recorder, and sometimes my blog.

I'm firmly grounded in my reality, or at least my perception of it, stripped away from all of its fantasies and other such deceptions.I hate it when my perceptions are altered-thus I hate alcohol , nicotine and any other drug.

I'm not afraid that I may never find true love , or that I might die alone.I was born alone , I will die alone.We all ultimately die alone.

My best friend calls me a "Weirdo".I reject my moniker , my labeling.I'm not weird .I may be complex and complicated .But not weird.I'm just ME.

Finally Men are not dogs, neither are they martians.Men are simply men.Live with that.

The Last Leg Lock

 

 

 

 

 

Morning rounds.

In the fifth floor of the hospital , in the west wing , I know that a man is sitting up in his bed waiting for me.Chavo Gutiriezz is sixty three, and he is diabetic .It is two weeks since I amputated his left leg just below the knee.I walk down the corridor but do not go straight into his room.Instead , I pause in the doorway.He is not yet aware of my presence , but gazes down at the place in the bed where his leg used to be , and now there is the collapsed leg of his pyjamas.He is totally absorbed , like an athlete appraising his own body.What is he thinking , I wonder.Is he dreaming of the outline of his toes ? Does he see , in its absence , his foot's incandescent ghost? Does his phantom limb still ache? Does he feel that I'm responsible for his loss ? Is he still angry with me?

I watch him from the doorway .Its a kind of spying.I know.

Chavo Gutiriezz is bald , totally-Michael Jordan bald.He is naked to the waist, so I can see his man-breasts.They are samoan breasts, something a sumo would proudly carry on him, the inverted triangles of wobbly adipose tissue from which the nipples swing , dark as garnets.

I've seen enough.Step into the light , Dr.Ramasamy , and reveal yourself I command myself.

"How did the night go Chavo ?"

He looks at me for a moment , "Shut the door" he says.I do , and move to the side of the bed.He takes my left hand in both of his gnarly , stubby rough hands , gazes at it , turns it over , then back , fondling , at last holding it up to his cheek .I do not withdraw from  the loving .After a while he relinquishes my hand , and looks up at me.

"How's the pain ?" I ask

He chooses to ignore the question , but continue looking at me.I know at once he has made his decision.

"You know Doc, you look so much like my son...my son who hasn't spoken to me in years"

"We latinos and you Indianos look a lot alike each other, Doc"

He sighs.The time has come .He must unburden himself.

"Ever heard of The Silver Bane?" he asks , now almost whispering , as if he was letting me on to a secret.

"What?"

"The Silver Bane "he says "You've never heard of him?"   

 "No"

"Ach ! , The Silver Bane ? C'mon doc , remember ..."

All at once , there is a recollection .It is dim , distant , but coming near.

"You mean the wrestler?"

Eagerly he nods , and his man-breasts heave sideways.At sixty three , he is grotesquely huge , with disproportionately longish arms.he looks like a Human-ape chimera.

He wants me to remember.

"Well yes ..." I say , still unsure.

"I saw him wrestle in montreal " I say , "a long , long time ago"

"Hah ! " he smiles triumphantly , "That was me " His smile continues to broaden , now almost ear to ear.

In my profession , patients under morphine and a host of other painkillers often confess to me.Sometimes  I meet   Napoleons, Einsteins and occasionally Ganeshas .But this ? Never !

"You ?" I try to smile , trying my best to hide my incredulity.

"You saw me !"

"No " I begin to say , but then Chavo , with  his longish arms , makes a one legged leap on the bed  leans from his bed and gets a large Brown envelope from his nightstand.

"Wait " He says , rummaging through what  I imagine are photos and newspaper clippings , but I slip away  down the memory lane.

It was almost fifteen years ago .I'm ten years old .Its my first time in montreal .The first thing you notice about Montreal is it is as cold as chennai (Madras in those days)  is hot .Canada embraced  an Indian family of four -A biochemistry professor , a housewife , and their two sons. And we in turn embraced Canada as our new home away from home.

We are out with Uncle Luc , our neighbour and his two sons , our best fiends , Ken and Matt.This is the first time we are going out with some one else other than our family.We are at Maple Leaf Arena , we sit high and near the centre .A ring stands alone in the centre.

It begins.

            The wrestlers circle.They grapple , they  apply choke holds and arm bars .A submission move ends the match.The wrestlers are replaced by another pair.At last it is the main event.The Silver Bane v/s The Spike.

On the cover of the program notes , there is a picture of spike training himself by sleeping on a bed of nails daily.The Spike feels no pain, it is explained , due to his practice taught by an ancient Indian Fakir.The Silver Bane's trademark is a Silver Luchador mask with rectangular slits for eyes and mouth.He is never seen without it , state the program .No one knows who the Silver Bane really is !

"Good " says Uncle Luc "Now you'll see something "

They come down separate aisles , both waving and hi-fiving the cheering crowds.

The Spike shows off his freshly inflicted wounds on his back , the one that he got from sleeping on beds of nails.The crowd booes.He is clearly a heel.

The Silver Bane is a lot smaller .He is short , has ape-ish arms , and pendulous man-breasts that move on their own accord , demonstrating inertia and its effects.He jumps on to the top rope and waves.The crowd roars .

The match begins before the bell is rung.Immediately Silver Bane is held in a vicious headlock but The Silver Bane throws The Spike onto the ropes .Spike is quick .Bouncing off the ropes , he delivers a bone crunching drop kick.The Silver Bane falls with a crack.Was it the sound of the breaking of a bone or was it the cracking of a board ? The Spike quickly lifts Silver Bane and gives him a german Suplex.Silver Bane is down , and The Spike pummels him on the ground.

The Spike goes for a tendon twisting ankle lock and then proceeds with a knee breaking leg lock ..It is visually apparent that it is painful.The Silver Bane does not hide his agony , instead pounds and slaps the floor with his hand , but does not submit .

"Thats not fair " I say "Hurting him like that "

"It's a submission move " Uncle Luc says "its fair"

"But its not fair " I say again .The man is in obvious agony .I can feel the pain.I begin to tremble.

And now , The Spike does something unspeakable.While holding onto the leg lock , he maneuvers himself near The Silver Bane's face , and with one hand , he bends and grasps the mask where it clings to The Silver Bane's head.

And he pulls.

He is going to strip it off ! Lay bare an ultimate carnal mystery ! Suddenly it is beyond mere physical violence.Now I am on my feet , shouting into the Maple Leaf Arena.

"Watch out " I yell "Stop him , please somebody stop him "

Uncle Luc simply chuckles.

Yet The Silver Bane hears me , I know it .And rallies from his bed of pain .He drags himself to the ropes and breaks off the submission hold.The crowd roars.

A quick huricanarana and the The Spike is down.Dazed and confused.A small package by the Silver Bane , and "One ! " Two !"Three !"

The crowd erupts.And I'm stunned to silence by the sudden turn of events .All this I remember as I stand at the bedside of Chavo Gutiriezz.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again , I'm in the operating room.Its been two years since I amputated the left leg.Now Chavo' s right leg has become gangrenous.

I have already scrubbed .I stand to one side wearing my gown and my gloves.And...I'm masked.

Upon the table lies Chavo Gutiriezz , pinned in a bright fierce light .Spinal anesthesia has been administered.He is hooked on to a multitude of sensors that give constant feedback of his condition.He sleeps, his mouth stuck to a grimace.It seems to me that I have never seen such misery.

An orderly holds Chavo's leg up so that the intern  can paint it with antiseptic.

I still remember , fifteen years ago , he had miraculously escaped from a painful leg lock from the Spike.

"Its not fair" I say out aloud , but no one seems to hear me over  Beethoven playing in the operating room.And I step forward , to make sure that no one will ever put The Silver Bane in a leg lock submission, Forever.

How to remove difficult clothing.

How to remove difficult clothing in a jiffy ? Guys , you've always wanted to know how Joey Tribbiani does it ... Now , you get to learn it , step by step. Back-Clasping Bra (with One Hand) 1. Move your date forward. If your date is lying on her back or leaning against a sofa, you will not have the necessary space to attempt this maneuver. Use a gentle embrace to guide her into a position so that you have access to her back. 2. Visualize the clasp. You are most likely dealing with a hook-and-eye closure. The hooks are generally on her right side; the eyes will be on her left side. 3. Reach your right hand around to the clasp. Bend your index finger over the bra clasp and place it between the fabric and her skin. 4. Brace your thumb against the eyes of the clasp. 5. Holding your index finger down, push the hook-side of the bra with your thumb. It may take a few attempts before you get good at this, so do not be discouraged—try again. 6. Slide the now-open bra off her arms. Be Aware The bigger the breasts, the bigger the challenge, since the closure on her bra is bearing more weight and is likely to be more taut. Front-Clasping Bra 1. Determine the type of clasp. There are two different varieties: a pin-in-slot clasp, which has a pin inserted vertically in a slot, and a clicker clasp. Clicker clasps, when closed, often look like a circle or an oval. 2. For a pin-in-slot clasp, pull the pin upward. This will free the two cups, and you can proceed to step 4. 3. For a clicker clasp, push both ends away from you. Place your thumbs at the center of the clasp and, using a motion similar to snapping a small wafer in half, apply pressure until it unclicks. Then lift up and separate the two halves of the closure. Depending on the clasp, you will need to raise either the left side or the right side first; try it one way, then the other. 4. Slide the now-open bra off her arms. Be Aware To maximize intimacy, maintain eye contact throughout the entire process. Do not look away unless you need to take a quick glance at the closure. Tight Boots 1. Sprinkle powder down the shaft of the boots. Talcum powder or baking powder will reduce the sweat and humidity inside the boots, making them easier to remove. 2. Position your date on the edge of a bed or couch. 3. Position yourself opposite your date. Sit in a chair braced against a wall, or rest one knee on the floor with the other foot flat on the floor. 4. Cup the heel of the boot in your right hand. Place your left hand on the area of the boot that covers the front of the leg/shin. Instruct your date to relax the foot in the boot. 5. Pull firmly and steadily with your right hand. You should feel some give in the heel. When you cannot move the boot any more, gently rock the boot back and forth. Your date should point the foot only slightly. To avoid injuring the wearer, do not jerk the boot. 6. Slide the boot off slowly. Caress the newly released foot.

I want It.

Once in her eight month , the doctor had shot her a look across her table.She was a different doctor, more empathetic.She said , "If you don't want this baby , I know plenty of people who do"

"I want it " she lied.

She's read classics.She's read Mills and Boons (some might say they are classics in their own respect , but let us not digress).

She knows what a strong woman , a heroine of a novel would do.

She knows how the plot is supposed to turn out.

Basically she has two choices.One , she could invest all her hopes for her own future in this ambiguous mass of tissue -this foetus , her child.My child , it was always my dream to climb to  the stars.Now tears of joy spring at the sight of your overwhelming success.

The very thought made her sick , sick enough to retch , or maybe it was morning sickness.

Or two , she could abandon the baby and her husband and become really successful and really  evil.Haw haw , she tried to initiate an evil guffaw , but failed.

The second option was far more attractive , but none of her heroines from her worn out novels hadn't done it.None of the real persons whom she knew had done it.And , though an attractive option , she really didn't believe in it.

What , then ? What choice was left her ?

Just like the heroines she had admired , she knew what had to be done.She had to be strong.Strong for her would be husband , strong for her in laws , strong for her mother , strong for her child , strong -for Herself.

Answers were not clear, but a path was hazily forming.The baby would come first, and then all her dreams.She would not abandon her dreams , neither her child.Somehow she would make it all work , somehow.

She often wondered if she was really lying when she said , I want it ?

She decided she was not.

So , once again , Azra looks at her swollen belly and decides to narrate once again.She's been telling her child stories.She's told it everything-her  discovery of pregnancy , her confrontations , her confessions, her past , her present and her yet -undecided future.

She looked at the distended belly and said "I didn't lie " and smiled "I wanted you "

"I'll always love you , its a promise"

The End.

A Wire Hanger

We fought , screamed and cried all night.

"Pregnant before marriage ! , Hai rabba !"

"what about your future?"

"we should have never let you out of the house" mom kept on lamenting.

We both cried that night.

It was , for me a release  of all the pent up emotions.

I didn't cry because karan was worried.I had to be strong.

Then I didn't cry because I was numb.

"What about an abortion ?" mom asked , acting brave .

Why ? The thought had never entered her mind before.

Her Pregnancy seemingly drained her , leaving holes in her memory , voids filled with nothingness , and white noise.

What she knew about abortions , pregnancy or about the act of intercourse was passed around by the other girls in the dormitory , often in hushed voices.

"Ticklish men are extra virgin " One would whisper.

"The first time is always the most painful " another would warn.

"A warm coke , shaken up , is a proven spermicide" giggled another friend , pretending to shake an imaginary coke bottle and put it in her.

" A wire hanger , opened up (sharpened up , somebody had said) , some turpentine and two spoons of sugar and lots of vodka..." someone was describing a method of aborting a foetus in a grave hushed voice.

She hated vodka.She also knows about the girl who attempted this method of abortion and bled to death.

This is suicide , and she knew it .Doctors would be an alternative , but what if it was too late?

 

Somehow , she couldn't muster enough courage.

She wanted to live .She was only twenty-one.

So she forgot about it , till this day , until her mother had brought it up , flooding back unwanted memories.

 

To be continued