Strange Stuff: Vol. 1

It’s been a while since I wrote a blog. Not because I had other shit to do, or I’ve been too busy. It’s just that with every blog that I wrote, my chances of getting laid were going down. Although not writing a blog for a while didn’t help either. But I feel good in my head. I’ve eliminated the major possibility. It’s like my placebo.

So I’ve been doing open mics for a while now. 10 months. It’s been fun. But apart from the jokes that I say on stage, there are certain things that happen on and off stage that fascinate me. Now to me, it is very funny. So I thought I’ll start blogging about those things.

Now, why can’t I write it in a diary? Because it is not fucken 1945! Any person you meet in this day and age who writes in a diary is a fucken psychopath. There is no way a sane man writes weird stuff about his day in a diary now. Because these days we write a lot of it in a book. Facebook.

Moving on!

I figured I’ll blog about it because as of now, my blog is as good as being private. No body could give enough of  fuck to read it. And I say ‘as of now’ because in my head, I’m the hero of my own film. So that means some day there will be readers here and I’ll have a proper blog following.

So every now and then, I’ll just write shit that I found funny about a day on/off the stage and you decide if it is funny to you or not. And once you decide that, don’t bother telling me about it because I’m not a place in life where I can handle hope or sorrow.

So last night, I was at an open mic. It was random as fuck because there was no one there in a bar. Of course there was no one there, it was a rainy Tuesday night. The kind of night in vigilante movies where the villain would do something extremely fucked up and then the hero will have to save it all.

So anyway, 10th on the list, I get up on stage. It’s just five audience members now (a couple and a group of three) and about 15 comedians. I was doing some random shit about how a group of meat eaters attacked a vegan eatery and threw chicken at the people eating there. In my head, I pictured people throwing their daughters at me, ‘ki bhai wah kya boley ho tum.’

Reality, for obvious reasons, was a little different. The couple just kept staring at me like I said some shit that is deeply offensive. There was more sadness in between and then I went to a joke about circumcision in the Mughal era.

Offense virus hit them. They picked up their things and moved to the outside area where happy people who have better things to do were listening to live music. I was cool with it. At least they did not spit on my face before they left. Because trust me, that is a genuine fear I have. That people who don’t like my performance will walk out in the middle of the performance and then take a detour till the stage, spit on my face and go away. It’s fucken gross but I’ve seen that shit in my dreams. Very weird dreams.

Anyway so they walk out. Once I’m done with the performance I just step in the outside section to get some air. The couple who walked out were now sitting with people and laughing and shit. The moment they saw me, they started pointing at me and telling something to the other three they were chilling with.

I continue to walk away but all of them kept looking at me as I walked across the floor to the washroom. They repeated the entire thing when I walked back from the washroom to the section where the open mic was going on.

I honestly think becoming the Joker from The Dark Knight is a little bit of an over reaction to people talking about foreskin removal.

Looks like my comedy got into their skin. Their foreskin. But I get it. It is more than just a ‘sensitive’ issue. It’s a part as well.

Yeah seriously, that’s my closing line.  I didn’t really think the idea of writing this thing through but I’m here so I’ll publish it. Hopefully, we’ll do better next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You still reading? Go away!

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My encounter with a ghost

Being an atheist has many advantages. One of them is when you’re jerking off, you can be sure that no one’s watching you. Unless you’re doing it in a crowded bus. Because that’s not how it works. There are somethings atheism can’t hide, for every thing else there’s master card.

But no one really talks about the downside to atheism. The fact that you don’t believe in god comes with a few terms and conditions. And one of them is you have to believe that there are no ghosts too – which, I think is messed up.

Ghost

Because it is human nature to be afraid of the dark. Or at least it is my nature. And I freak out in the dark. But what freaks me out more than the idea of ghosts is my defense mechanism.

Let’s say its 3 am in the night (which allegedly is the Satan’s time). I’m just doing some random stuff on my computer. I see a movement on the corner of my eye. Now lets assume it is a ghost that moved. Obviously that is scary.

But my defense mechanism to that is to not look in the direction of the ghost. That’s right. I think not looking at it will protect me from it. Its a good thing I’m not in the army.

Major: ‘Soldier, the Pakistanis are coming.’

Me: ‘I have an excellent idea. A strategy that’ll win us the war.’

Major: ‘Go ahead. What is it?’

Me: ‘Let’s not look at them.’

Major: …..

Me: ….

Major: ….

Me: …

Times of India’s first page next day: ‘Army major shoots his own soldier.’

And here’s the messed up part. I know this isn’t helping. I know the ghost might still come and kill me. But I still do keep doing this.

Even the ghost must be like ‘What a fucktard!’

The moral of the story is face your fears. Because if you don’t, then you won’t see it coming.

March 6, 2022.

March 6, 2022.

7.15 am: The alarm goes off.

7.16 am: The alarm goes off again after snooze time ends.

7.16 am: Stop the alarm. A wakes up B. Another night has gone by and all A has done has streamed random stuff all night.

8.20 am: B asks A if he wants breakfast. A couldn’t care less.

9.14 am: A leaves for office, 9 minutes late than usual.

9.19 am: The house is empty. Absolute silence.

9.42 am: A goes back to the computer table. Opens facebook. Starts scrolling.

9.56 am: Headline on the screen appears. ‘This 96-year-old woman doing Bharatnatyam is the most amazing thing you’ll see today’.

9.59 am: A’s body hits the floor. A bullet shot on the side of his forehead. Life’s left his body.

am_140326_gun_suicide_silhouette_800x600

10:09 am: His Facebook news feed refreshes itself. ’10 reasons your mother isn’t your father’ – another shit article is shared.

Shitformation (n): 1. This means information which is shit, generally anything shared by these generic websites.
2. The shit-formation of the human mind made possible by
rubbish generated.

Shitformation claims another life.

5.39 pm: Another headline reads, ‘This new word shitformation is taking the….. (generic bull shit continues).’

A toast to February

This blog is exactly what you are thinking it is about.

Ice cream.

Yaaayyy!! 😀

Just kidding. (Although I did see that ‘what the fuck’ expression on your face). It’s not about ice cream.

This blog is not a rant about how shit love is or how pathetic Valentines Day is because I am single. Nah.

Instead it is about how February has been romanticized (English swag niggas) in our heads right from when we were children. That’s right, and it wasn’t just for February 14th. It was for the over all picture.

Because as kids, even though we had no clue what it meant, we all knew February had fewer days that normal months and even when it got an extra day, it would still be fewer than the other months.

Doesn’t really feel like a big deal now but figuring that out – particularly in my school – felt like a big deal back then.

LeapOfFaith.jpg
You know why there’s a photo of a man leaping here? Because it’s a leap year mother fuckers! Get it? Leap. LEAP. LEEEAAPP!!!! 

And I remember this one leap year, when I was little, a classmate of mine was late to class and the second he came in, he shouted ‘THIS IS AN EXTRA DAY WE HAVE TO STUDY. OUR SENIORS DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS!’

And we were all like “Fuccckkkk!!!”

No sorry, we were kids.

We were all like “Whatever kids say when they are amused”. (I can’t seem to recall what we said as kids when we were amused. So used to ‘shit’, ‘fuck’ or ‘bhuh that’s insane’, I can’t remember what I used to say when I was amused as a child. Let me know in the comments what you’d say.) *Optimistic Blogger*

That guy’s doing his MS in USA now. Surprise, surprise.

Anyway, you further romanticize the month when you grow up because hey, in college, this is the time where even the ugliest people we know get confident and try to ask someone out. And I get to say that because I am ugly. #FakeModestyToMakeRudeComment

And for some reason, after the holidays of December and the hangovers/failed resolutions of January, it is February that tells you, ‘Hey it’s alright. This year isn’t that bad after all. There’s love in it, it isn’t that long and if you’re single, well fuck you because happiness isn’t for you’.

It is February that gets little kids ready for their exams and the big bankers ready for their audits. It is the only time of the year where people from the same group can have hot tea and cold coffee in the same outing without the other section telling them the climate isn’t suitable for it.

Just imagine facing March directly after January, so bloody hectic!!

They say good things come in small packages and in our cases, I believe February is that small package.

Here’s to you dwarf month. You’re awesome.

The Wizard and the Witch

Once up on a time, in a land far far away, lived a Wizard. But he wasn’t just any wizard, he was the Wizard of Kha.

The land of Kha was ever so grateful to the Wizard for saving it when doom decided to knock on its door. But victory did not come easy to the wizard. He faced a great loss. He had to sacrifice the Witch he so dearly loved.

A millennium has passed since that day. The land of Kha no longer exists. It was washed away in the floods that destroyed the place and all the people that lived there during the dark ages.

Only one soul lives in Kha. In a dark corner of the lost city, stands a battered but elegant fort that houses the Wizard.

Dark Arts

Day after day, all the wizard does is look out of the window, at the forests that have engulfed what used to be one of the most prosperous city in the world. All that it is now is a hunting ground for werewolves and creatures so dangerous, that no one dares of even thinking about venturing in to these lands.

The Wizard’s eyes were full or remorse. Sadness that he had hung on to for over a 1,000 years had anything but reduced. In fact, it had just grown with every passing day, hour, minute, second.

Staring out in to the darkness, all he can do is question his decision to let the Witch go for a place that doesn’t exist anymore.

But the silence of over 300 years is shattered when he hears a knock on his door. No one had dared to set foot on these lands for ages and now someone had. And it was knocking on the Wizard’s door.

Picking up his wand, the Wizard slowly inched his way to the door. ‘Who is it?’ said a firm, coarse voice. A voice he hadn’t heard for a while now.

There was no reply.

Bracing himself, he opened the door ready to cast a spell on whatever was on the other side.

His wand dropped at the sight of what stood on the other side. It felt like his world was crumbling around him. He had just heard about this in the whispers the air had brought. But this was the first time the wizard was face to face with someone that looked like his long-lost love, the Witch.

“Kya aapke toothpaste me namak hai?” she asked.

The Wizard collapsed immediately. Evil had found him. And he wasn’t half as powerful as he was when he had protected the Land of Kha for the first time. He didn’t survive.

But the namak did.

 

Fin.

The Dogman

fry

 

‘Once up on a time in a land not very far away, there lived a man. The villagers called him the dogman and were scared of him.’

There must have been a time when this was a completely right statement to start a story. But it is 2016. And we got all this bitch theories in our heads now. We now think very highly of ourselves and take our own rubbish thoughts very seriously. This has led to many bullshit theories coming up.

The first people to start complaining about this, as is the case very regularly these days, would be the modern Nazis, who happen to be worse than the actual Nazis. The only thing that is holding them back is the lack of a Hitler-esque figure and a lot of ammunition. “Are you trying to say a woman cannot exist on her own? You misogynistic pig! What a terrible world to live in.”

The second kind people this post would impact is the social activists. “How can you generalise villagers? Do you know how much they’ve seen in their lives? Have you even been to a village? Do you know how the caste system can destroy a person?! You metropolitan ignorant pig.”

The third people this post impacts would be the PETA guys. The clowns battling for animal rights in an age where people are being butchered mercilessly. But what is Syria to people who are on a mission to save hens?!

The fourth category of people this post would impact is the new breed of internet people who think a dog is the ultimate form of life. I love dogs but hey, how will you possibly stop a dog meat festival in China, a country that doesn’t give a fuck about the world’s greatest super power – America, with your stupid hashtags on Facebook? But they’ll still take offence because a dogman would have to be genetically engineered and it is cruelty against man’s most loyal friend. “You fucken pig!”

And since everyone in this post is calling me a pig, my mere existence would offend the religion of peace and no bacon.

And since I am using my freedom of speech in India, it makes the moral police in brown shorts my mortal enemy too.

And since everyone’s taking offence these days, some random Baba, who is a fucken Dogman, would also take offense and put me in prison.

What a good time to be alive. 🙂

Men – oh – pause

I write this article at the risk of being labelled a sexist. Although that tag does bother me, I will go ahead and write this.

Right, so, Men – oh – pause (TM) is a phrase I came up with after my recent experiences with a few friends. You know how we men are always boasting about not being in a cycle that involves PMSing and that we’re always our cool selves. Well that is a huge lie. Most guys have a time of the year for a month or so when they go men-oh-pausal.

Yes, it is exactly what you think it is. The symptoms of menopause are seen in the same month. They start acting like a woman who is going through an extended mid life crisis even at the age of menopause.

To put it in a layman’s term, the friend/brother pauses being a man and starts acting like a stupid bitch. :p Trust me, there is no good way of putting it. Compared to what’s running in my mind, this is a very mild term!

While going through this men – oh – pause, men generally go full retard. They remain pissed off at their friends for no reason. They think their entire group is against them and have been pulling them down all their lives. At this point, they move to their tertiary friends and “start a new happy life” with them.

This keeps them happy for a couple of weeks before they start realising they are behaving like a stupid bitch. And just like the Snickers advertisement, they go from being a heroine to our old brother in matter of seconds and come back. This is usually common among men who have moved to new avenues, companies or even institutions.

That’s it I guess! Adios! 😀

It’s a cycle!

Fuck yeah, it IS A CYCLE!

You see, when shit is going down, you think it is the end of the world.

Well guess what? It isn’t. It is just a cycle. That entire feeling of the pre shit going down era comes back to you.

But it does, only if you live long enough to outlive that shitty feeling.

And trust me, if you end up out living that feel, it all starts from scratch. That ‘first everything’ returns. That sweet smell in the air. Them little red hearts flying everywhere. Well not the last part literally, that’d be gross.

But seriously, shit does go down, and how!

I always thought it was a hoax. There is no end to the tunnel. In fact, I was pretty sure this is a propaganda that things get better.

I have never been more wrong in my entire life put together.

Guess it is time to buckle up, get ready and head out into the horizon!

Because you know what they say, …… I’m not saying it. You know it already!

Wha? Yes that’s it! Okay bye! 😀

Sometimes I wish I was a Panda.

Sometimes I wish, I wish I was a Panda.

I’d be shipped off from my home, far far away to Uganda.

Where I’d probably meet a female panda named Amanda.

Sometimes I wish, I wish I was a Panda.

Why the fuck are they so so happy? :o
Why the fuck are they so so happy? 😮

All I’d eat, is a lot of hay.

All people would love me: straight, bisexual or gay.

Far far away from the world’s propaganda,

Sometimes I wish, I wish I was a Panda.

Though I weigh like one,

a Panda is way beyond just the weight.

In the hope of fitness I wander,

Sometimes I wish, I wish I was a Panda.

I’d love to be in a Chinese zoo,

where it’s all black and white, and I don’t feel blue.

I’d feel like I’m probably living in a tanda?*

Sometimes I wish, I wish I was a Panda.

*When I say tanda, it is a slang for a tribal village. It’s not a Malayali trying to say cold in Hindi.

BOOOMM! :p