Interesting Times

It all started with a puncture. On Saturday morning, Meister had just started for work, when he realised that his rear tire has gone bananas. So he had to keep the Activa back and then walk to the autostand. On reaching the autostand, he was about to get into an auto when he heard some dudes calling him. Upon further investigation, it turned out to be a couple of guys in a car offering to give him a lift. Upon further investigation, it turned out that the Meister knew one of the guys - he is a local autowallah.

So, Meister boarded the car, and to his astonishment found out that it belongs to an MLA. Apparently the driver of the car and the autowallah are good friends and they were going to Begumpet. So, knowing where Meister works, they offered the Meister a lift. Meister, who being a cheapass, never says no to free stuff and thus he came to office in an AC car of an MLA. The minus part was that he had to listen to hindi film songs.

So he went to office, where he found out that there was to be free lunch as a farewell to a dude. What's more, someone mistakenly ordered non-veg food. (The Muppet acting as CEO usually only orders only veg food for office events) And what's even more, there was more food than what people could eat, so Meister got to bring free food home.

And once he reached home, he found out that Liverpool has been thrashed by Portsmouth. And as if that was not enough, later the same night, the Fulham boys thrashed and massacred and pillaged and plundered the foocking Manures. Great day eh?

But you know what, that's still not all.

Sunday, was Midas's birthday. So in the morning, Meister went to the bday party. On the way. he went to Landmark to buy gifts, and lo and behold (and other types of weird expressions which do not make any sense), he found a Chelsea calendar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The best Christmas present ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He also bought a Stephen Clarke book, a book about Thugees and a book about Attila the Hun. And then he went to the party. And there was cake :-) :-) :-)

After cake cutting et all, everyone went out for lunch and again there was leftovers, so Meister got them as well.

You know what all that means???

It means Meister had loads of food at home.

So what did he do?

He invited his friends over for a night of food and games.

And so Don Violent and Sexy Anutie and MahaBOOB and OCD Man and Resident Bugger all came and they had good food and they played games (where Don Violent tried to cheat at Grand Prix but failed owing to the keen eyes of the Meister and his 100% success rate in that game.)

So you see, it was an uber interesting weekend wasn't it?

And the week was too.

For now, here's only 2 snippets from the week.

On Tuesday, Meister, being a bit of a Muppet, tried to heat his food in a plastic bowl on his electric heater, thereby successfully managing to burn the plastic bowl and conk out the electric heater. (In his defence, how was he to know that a bowl marked Microwave etc is not going to work on a heater??)

On Wednesday, after office, he went with his colleagues to a mess, which serves some really tasty food. What's more, someone else paid for the food. And once he came back home, he got invitation from Sexy Auntie and Don Violent to come over to PerennialyinjuredthungOvung's place where there was, among other things, lots of cake!!!! :-)

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Its one of them deep philosophical questions that have mystified people throughout the ages (and have also given them philosophical types something to do during the long winter nights). There is probably no clear and simple answer or solution to this conundrum (more or less on the same way that there are no clear answers to the questions -

Was there Atlantis?

Who built Stonehenge?

What is the purpose behind the existence of houseflies and Ayush Prasad?

Now you all know that Meister is not one of them philosophical types (you know the ones who talk about issues and use words like hegemony, imperialistic, parochial etc etc). Meister, being a man of the world, is more concerned about why the chicken actually crossed the road.

It all happened Saturday morning. Meister was going to office. He has just crossed the Sitafalmandi flyover, when it happened - the chicken crossed the road. The Meister was stuck on one lane of the road, a jeep/Bolero/Sumo was on the other lane. The chicken which was patiently standing on one side of the road suddenly decided to cross to the other side.....and its been bugging the Meister ever since...why did she do it?

Was it to go home?

or

Was it to escape from a patriarchal system dominated by some hegemonistic cock?

And they call the Meister a Chauvinist Mysoginist!!!!

Well, everyone knows that the Meister is a pretty laid back dude. Nothing really disturbs him (apart from Tasneem and cultural studies students hell bent on talking about "issues"). He certainly never gets disturbed about movies. He watches everything.......from Woody Allen to Michael Bay...well not really, he doesn't watch movies with deep philosophical insights which talk about important issues and which are made by Slovenian directors (with names like Polish goalkeepers) and which are favoured by certain "uber antels".

Some reasons the Meister does not see such stuff are that:

• He is certain that being a plebian (despite dictionary.com's insistence of attaching an extra e in the proceedings, Meister is sticking to this spelling) proletariat, he won't understand a single word/scene/issue/deep philosophical insight and the whole movie will go 25 feet over his head like a Bobby Zamora shot or a post-apocalyptic poem involving one armed men, hungry dogs, grass which grows in the dark and lava; at which point all them hoity-toity intellectuals will turn up their noses, look down upon him and start using words like hegemony (Meister always thought that the word meant earning money by designing hedges); at which point of time the Meister's foot will move of its own accord towards the posterial regions of said intellectuals

• As a disciple/acolyte/worshiper of the Invisible Flying Purple Spaghetti Monster, its against his religion to watch such movies. That and eating/drinking coconut oil

Now the Meister was recently taken to a movie called New Moon. Meister knows what you are thinking - you are thinking: Why Meister Why??? Well the reason was that it was a revenge by MS for The Hangover. As she put it like that, Meister really could not refuse (as he has a soft spot for the Code proposed by that fella Hammurabi). So he went.

And he got disturbed, really disturbed.

Its not really the fact that its a bad film. Guus knows Meister has seen enough bad, cringeworthy films in his life (bloody Moulin Rouge comes to mind). But this movie was in a separate stratosphere of badness of its own. The film in itself was mediocre and lame - what got the Meister pissed off was the story.

To get to the bottomline, its a story about a girl who wants to change everything about her (and in the end changes everything) for the love of a boy. It doesn't matter if said boy is a menace/danger to other human beings.

So what do we have as the morals of the story?

1. Girls, if you really love a guy, then go ahead change yourself. Its no biggie if you have to go under the knife and get some plastic surgeries done, its all for a good cause, you have to get the guy don't you? Also, running away from home is perfectly acceptable.

2. Its perfectly ok to commit suicide.

3. Girls - the word independence does not apply to you. You always always must depend on a guy for help, for support, to get you out of trouble etc etc etc.

4. Nice guys always always always finish last.

Stories based on these lovely morals have now become a worldwide hit. What is pathetic really is the fact that apparently sane, educated, adult, independent women who would go apeshit on your ass if you say the same things that these stories are teaching are going gaga over this series. This is actually sickening and the worst form of hypocrisy.

Meister doesn't care what other people like. But whoever likes this series are hereby disqualified from ever uttering the words "male chauvinist" and "sexist" ever again.

Meister has lost all respect for women who actually like this stuff.

To Do

There's this football lingo thingy around. It starts with "To do". It describes some specific actions some specific guy is famous for. For example: "To do a Zamora" means hitting the ball 20 feet above the goal post. So, taking that "to do" thing and putting it to people whom the Meister knows, this is what is there.

To do a Satarupa - add family as friends on facebook / reject vehemently the theory that she is indeed an intellectual / try and find any molecule of intellectuality/deep philosophical insights in Meister's blog posts

To do a Sandy - obsess about LFCs / smoke / destroy the hopes, dreams, aspirations of Champs League finalists

To do a Mithila - disagree with just about everything fat, bald, bearded people say / disappear for months / not pick up phones

To do a Premankur - take your foot and put in into your mouth - repeat ad infinitum / lose all your important stuff on the very 1st day in a new place / eat only soup

To do a Runa - get drunk and start singing old Hindi songs / cheat at Monopoly and other indoor board games

To do a Mythili - get thoroughly drunk/high and then go around claiming to be the only sober person around / take only 1 hour and 55 minutes to get prepared to go out

To do a Mhadeno - get spooked/scared crapless by cartoon ghosts / get high on cranberry juice

To do a Benny - get scandalised about each and every thing on this planet / change football teams every 2 months

To do a Koel - fall off every available surface/place known to man / flirt with bartenders while drunk (allegedly)....also see Jonathan

To do a Jonathan - compete with Jimbo to see who is lazier / flirt with/hug/kiss/dance/get thoroughly excited in the presence of - gay men (despite being straight {allegedly})

To do an Oren - use quilts during summer / go absent after inviting people over / have the most pathetic excuse for a beard...ever

To do an Ipshita - think continuously about something someone said for 8 days and get thoroughly depressed / change mind every fortnight / buy furniture

To do an Avijit - keep having accidents / caary on, just keep having accidents

To do a Krishnayan - buy things from the net / play every free team selecting game known to man

To do a Pallavi - dream about getting married for just about every minute of your life / cheat at Name Place Animal Things

To do a Shahir - lose your way / be RHMs of CEOs

To do a Shailaja - be freakishly enthusiastic about everything / keep calling 1 friend with another friend's name / yawn when a particular friend calls

To do a Minakshi - work everyday of the week / walk out from cinema halls / love the most anti-feminist/sexist/chauvinistic piece of literature written in the last 150 years

To do a Souro - have OCD / write poems to Sirisha / try flirting with pork as subject matter / like, dream, obsess, have a fetish about - trains

To do an Ananya - don't talk to guys / dance at 3 AM

To do an Ayush - burn your balls - figuratively, metaphorically, literally / lose all self-respect or dignity

To do a Tasneem - become a correspondent for every gossip-mongering tabloid journal of this planet / to bitch about anything and everything / backstab

ohh how could the Meister forget

To do a Prashanti - be a selfish, egomaniacal, narcissistic, pampered, spolit slave owner/slave driver

The Eternal Conundrum

or the Horns of a Dilemna if you will

And this is one thing that women never have to face and never will understand

Here's the thing - jockeys or boxers???

This is not about the sportsmen but rather about underwear or more specifically which type of underwear to use. Both have their pros, both have their cons.

With the boxers the problem is that the carrot and onions are never where they are supposed to be, they keep moving this way and that, the advantage being that there's not much pressure.

With the jockeys, everything stays where they are supposed to be like a well disciplined regiment. However, sometimes there is too much pressure on the family jewels (or in the Meister's case the useless pieces of family trinkets of only sentimental value)

In summer its not that big a deal coz well you can always go commando, but in winter, if the weather's chilly, then you need all the protection you can get otherwise the doodahs shrivel up like a frightened tortoise in the middle of a pack of eagles. So, you need to wear something but what to wear - that is the question

Why?

The Meister, having finished his office work after working like a dhobi's gadha continuously for 2 months (due to muppety colleagues, idiotic bosses, moronic clients and the Great Indian Chunkubaaz), had a free day on Tuesday. Well, it was courtesy the Potato, as when the office had called, he had picked up the phone and had told office to foock off and leave them alone for a day.
So, with a free day in hand and noone to talk to apart from the Potato, the Meister soon got bored and started thinking.

An idle mind is Lord Fergie's workshop etc etc.

Well, he thought a lot of football, which he is pretty sure none of the readers want to read about. He also thought of women, which he is sure all the readers are interested about. More specifically, he thought of 2 aspects of women.

Aspect 1- Make up

The Meister had had the misfortune of editing a course on women's makeup recently. It can safely be said that it was the weirdest piece of literature the Meister had ever read. And the most boring (keeping in mind the fact that he has just finished editing a Statistics book). Having only seen the Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion (who as you can realise from the name is a nutter) put on makeup, the Meister was of the idea that its an idiosyncratic thingy. But now after reading about this, and after exposures to Sexy Auntie (food waster) and Lady Frustratedalot (cowdung wearer), he has come to the conclusion that all women are nutters.

Women put on chemicals on their face and body and then they put on more chemicals to remove these chemicals - all of which begs the question why put on the 1st batch of chemicals in the 1st foocking place anyway????

They actually go and pay people to massacre their eyebrows!!! What d foock is up with that!!!!!

They also put boiling hot wax on their legs to remove hair!!! Well, apparently, its not only on their legs, they also go for something called bikini wax. shudder!! horror!!! nightmare!!!!! And what's worse, some luj charcters and disgraces to the XY chromosome also go for that. These are the same luj charcters who probably shave of their chest hair and paint their eyebrows and pu on makeup. All these guys should have one side of a rope tied around their bollocks and the other side of the rope tied to an F1 car, and then the car should go around a circuit for a couple of laps. Metro-foocking-sexuals.

Hot wax on any part of the body is bad enough but the very thought of hot wax near the bollockal region makes the Meister break out in sweats.....this looks like something dreamt up by that Marquis de Sade fella.

Aspect 2 - Ayush Prasad

Now there are many unsolved mysteries in the world - you know like the presence of Nessie, the Loch Ness creature, who built Stonehenge, whether Lord fergie is really the son of the devil, the significance of the letter S in Jughead's shirt etc. Another 1 to add to the list is why women like Ayush Prasad. This is a man (and that's a term loosely used in this case) who has no dignity, no self-respect and no shame. And yet, the ladies like him.

Why? Why? Why? What is the source of attraction?? What is it that gets him all the loving and liking from the ladies while on the other hand the Meister gets saddled with complaints, accusations, snappings and recriminations????

Why?

To the Ladies in my Life

Sorry for taking up your time. Won't take more in the future, this is just a short message.

It seems to me that at some point or the other in 2009 I have pissed off, angered, disappointed, disgusted, disgruntled, scandalised etc almost every woman that I know and regularly interact with. Quite a record eh? Quite a lot of these things happened due to my blog or because of comments that I have made on facebook or while chatting.

Now I know I am not politically correct, but whatever I say or write, I do that in jest. I thought that anyone who even remotely knows me knows that. Clearly I was wrong.

I have tried to never ever deliberately hurt anyone (well though my mother and Mithila would probably disagree....and believe me when I say that I am sorry for all that I have done; they may have forgiven me or forgotten about them but I haven't and never will).

Anyway the point here is that if I have inadvertently offended or hurt anyone, then I apologise. However, I am not going to change my style or my humour for anyone. So there are 2 courses of action from this point onwards that I have decided on.

As of today morning, I have stopped commenting on your posts or statuses on facebook. As far as the blog thing goes, I am deleting you from the mailing list since I do not want you to feel that I am forcing you to read my trash. I will keep on writing the same kind of stuff though. If you want come to the blog and read, if you don't want to read then everything's still hunky dory.

This year has brought me the news of what is wrong with me and I have realised that my life is "literally" too short to go around saying sorry you know. Not only am I tired of saying sorry all the time, I am also just tired of life. The only reason I haven't committed suicide so far (and believe me the temptations have been strong and frequent) is because that would kill my parents and so I am waiting for them to die before I do.

In the meantime, I will live each day as it comes, I will try to enjoy football and food and books etc. And I will write because it makes me smile.

I wish you all a happy life and all the best with all your endeavours.

Bishwaksen Bandyopadhyay

The Curious Case of the Meister in the Night Time

That paragon of dumbassness and resident of loserville was invited to a party. It was at a place called Treasure Island. Now the Meister had no clue whats going on. He saw an ad in facebook that there will be free drinks, so he was curious. Lo and behold he got calls from people asking him to come down for the party - including Don Violent who called him a boring old sourpuss and the bog monster Sir Paunchsalot (he had some ulterior motives, but it will be divulged later). initially the Meister was sceptical but after repeated discussions and subtle emo blackmail he decided to go. There was a promise of a striptease dance, but alas that never came.

An Innova was hired and at 7.30 the pickups started. The 1st ones in were Boggy and Don Violent followed by Meister. Then it was the Vowel Girl and then Gameboy. Finally it was the turn of Sexy Auntie, Mr. Pencil and Pauncho's gay partner AJ. These 3 were smoking hukkah in deli 9 and when the time came to pay the bill started paying in 50p coins (there's no other earthly reason why it took them so long to pay a bill). Well, with so many people in the mix, there was some readjustments in the seating arrangements - Pauncho went to the back where rumour has it that he started touching himself.

Anyway, after a refreshment stop at City Centre (where btw the Meister completely confounded onlookers by walking around with different beauties - one of the few times people felt envious of the Meister wuhooo), they all piled into the car and started the journey.

It was a pretty cool and enjoyable journey. The only noteworthy thing which happened was that Don Violent and the Meister both managed to see the shop with the best name in the history of shops , nay in the history of history - Mahaboob Communications. When Meister told it to the Potato, the Potato laughed for 6 straight minutes and then strated cursing, the reson being that now he wouldn't be able to look at Jellio without laughing if anyone calls her by her short name.

So finally they reached the place. A lame ass place by the way. They all took shelter in a hut kinda thing and went in search of the promised drinks. The Meister who was eagerly looking forward to free whisky found to his chagrin that there's only white rum :-(. Still, free drinks are good drinks. So they were drinking.

And then the cacophony started.

And all started dancing.

And soon Meister was the only one sitting in the hut, nursing a sore head - not because of the drinks but because he had banged his head against the roof (the mark is still visible).

And this continued for hours and hours and then at around 1.30, the gay mafia arrived. Don Violent and Mr. Pencil went to get them in. However, they wer absent for close to 45 minutes -(there is an unsubstantiated rumour going on that they forgot all about the gay boys and made out, but hey who knows)

Poor Meister, in the meantime got pissed off, tired, got a headache and finally had enough. He walked off to the parking lot and started chatting with the driver. He did not, however, forget to flick a couple of glasses before he left. He had a nice little chat with the driver.

The others all stumbled in after a couple of hours. The return journey started and they promptly lost their way and ended up in the middle of lake.

Anyway, after many small misadventures, (Pauncho opening someone else's car by mistake, dropping his inhaler, the ndropping his phone) all of them reached home safely. The funniest thing however, was Sexy Auntie claiming that she and Meiter were the only 2 ones not drunk - this despite the fact that she was almost shozzled.

Now for the chronicles of the gay hermaphrodite Sir Pauncho.

As stated earlier, he started off by touching himself. Once he got a little bit drunk, he started flirting with a bouncer. Also, once when he went ot the loo, he came back with a big smile on his face claiming that he had just made out with a guy. And he was ecstatic when the gay mafia finally arrived and he went and danced wih all of them. Well, as far as the Meister knows, he only danced, however, he was missing for about 15- 20 minutes when it was time to leave. Also, he was pretty out of breath on the return journey...hmmm.....

Few things the Potato learnt (got reaffirmed with) last week

1. Wimmin are nutters

Exhibit A: Sexy Auntie

Put on some weird concoction on her face. Rumour has it that its oatmeal. Now, why someone would put oatmeal on their face, instead of baking it into a cookie and giving it to the Potato is frankly mysterious and ludicrous. There should be a law against that. It was apparently as preparations for a jazz concert. It took her only 1 hour and 55 minutes to get ready to go out. 1 hour and 55 bloody minutes!!!! Its even more than the average extra injury time that the damn Manures get every match over at the Theatre of Screams.

Also, she has around 26 pairs of shoes.

Exhibit B: Jellio

Went to see an animated film - Christmas Carol by that depressed Victorian fella - and promptly got scared crapless by the ghosts in the movie. Rumour has it that she was so scared that she was shaking like a bamboo in a tornado. Apart from her ability to get scared by cartoon ghosts, she also has the quality of massacring perfectly good vodka by adding such silly stuff as lime (tons of it) and cranberry foocking juice. Apart from all this, despie being a Naga, she puts coconut oil in food.

Exhibit C: Don Violent

Obsessed with cummin seeds

Exhibit D - Ayush Prasad

OK, technically, he ain't a wimmin, but since he ain't a man either, he can be used as an exhibit. Its not exactly him who is the exhibit though, its the fact that all girls (at least the weirdos of Ciefl) seem to really like him.

Why women like Ayush is one of them eternal mystery thingies - at par with why Stonehenge was built, Atlantis, Nessi, Mary Celeste, Bermuda Triangle etc.

2. There is a French dude going around in CIEFL/EFLU called Hippo.

3. Coconut oil is a crime against humanity/menace to society.

Potato has a theory of why Mallus use that stuff

a. It is multipurpose. What the Mallus do is that they take that stuff and pour it over their heads while keeping their mouth open - they use it for different parts as it moves, drips downwards - thereby using the same stuff as hair oil, make up oil, body oil and food and drink.

b. The Mallus knew that the only way to save themselves from foreign invaders was to use coconut oil. Not a single race/group of invaders have ever managed to live in MalluLand as they could not bear the

1. smell (oh the horror)
2. the taste

All the invaders/foreigners either died or ran away.

4. Jimmy Mistry has the worst Hindi accent in the history of Hindustan. Ronald Emmerich has no clue about how Indians speak English.

5. Wearing trousers sucks

Meister has now lost his cell phone and recently his keys, all while wearing trousers. Its those big ass pockets. Stuff keeps falling out. There must be a conspiracy somewhere.

6. What goeth around cometh around

Well it does not do that for the Meister. In his case, what goeth around, keeps on going all the while waving its hands in air while shouting "tata", "see u in hell" or "foock off baldy". But in the case of the Irish, it certainly does. The Potato's whiskey drinking, golf playing, skirt wearing Scottish friend Hamish McSpud is of the opinion that because the Irish defeated Georgia through a handball, they in turn lost because of a handball. Something about karma being a bitch and revenge being a dish best served with potatoes.

Potato's Day Out

The Potato recently went on a day's outing with SS - to Purani Haveli and Chowmahallah Palace. Yes, the same SS who does not remember the Meister's name (although the term she uses is a sure indicator of one of them slips as propounded by that Swiss fella), calls him a member of the Singularis Porkus family - a greedy member mind you, and lists ditching the Meister as one of her principal hobbies.

They were both very excited about the outing, and observers have said that they made various plans. Since rumour has it that SS can't distinguish north from breakfast (or for that matter east, west, south et all), the Potato even did research and got maps and even printed the maps. What he got in return was the comment - "show off".

Well, talking of sense of directions, SS is definitely not the worst one here. The 1st Nawab was from Iran. He wanted to go on a pilgrimage to Mecca, so he got out of home and reached India. Legend has it that he was using a compass made in China.

Anyway, since this is the Potato, the night before the trip his boss (the racist bar stud, not the muppet) told him that he had to come and work the next day. Since the Potato has no physical or metaphysical conundrum in telling his boss "up yours" (unlike some other people who shall remain nameless who goes off to shopping sprees with their bosses, while ditching the Meister of course), there were some negotiations and it was finally decided that Meister would do the work, Potato would go for the trip.

So the big day came. The Potato went out and smacked into the 2nd Bermuda Triangle in the form of Koti.....none of the auto wallahs wanted to go there. Well, obviously someone did but that was after 25 minutes of 'nakkos, ledus and kadus'. This dude had no qualms about going to Koti, nor about taking shortcuts, nor about going in opposite direction in an 1 way street, nor about going through a lane full of shops selling women's underwear.

So finally, Potato reached the place. Naturally, being a member of the intelligentsia, SS was a wee bit late. {on an aside there is an Ashoka Stambha beside the Koti Woman's College gate...those of you asking why there? would get the cunningly created response of why not?}

So, with vim, vigour, enthusiasm, lots of water, and a map, SS and Potato finally met and hailed an auto. The 1st autowallah they hailed blandly told them he knows the way to Purani Haveli.....thus making the whole map making thing an exercise in futility. After passing through one of the world's most depressing rivers, some very old buildings, a terrorist hub and Princess D (don't ask the full name please) Hospital, they reached the place. Its a very old building built by one of the Nizam's sons. Nowadays, there's a museum on the 1st floor and a school everywhere else.

Only in India would you find a museum on the 1st floor - with expensive gold and silver stuff with a 161 year old guard who looks 232 - and physics and chemistry laboratories on the ground floor.

After buying tickets, and paying 150 bucks for camera permit (150 bucks!!! daylight robbery), the 2 climbed the stairs and went into.........................the biggest foocking wardrobe/closet in the world. Actually the biggest. Its bloody huge. And it has lots of clothes and shoes and hats etc of all the ole prince.......who judging by the clothes was a midget and a bit of a wanker...which self respecting male wears pink. No wonder all the intelligent or rich Telugus go abroad...who would want to live in a state and look up to the ruler who wears pink...disgusting.

They passed the closet, and went to another hall full of things which the princeling had allegedly used...his bed, stool, dressing table, pens, mirrors, religious stuff, chamber pots etc. At this juncture they got a guide dude. He was a very enthusiastic dude and took great pleasure in pointing out stuff to them. From this hall, they went out and came upon an ancient hand pulled elevator. The prince being a prince (and a lazy bugger) used to use this to come from the ground floor to the 1st floor). The lift is still working and both the Potato and SS took turns in pulling it.

After this, they entered into another hall....this one full of interesting stuff. Worth mentioning are all the silver models of the different buildings established by the Nizam - Osmania, MuzamZahi, High Court, Public Gardens, a Dam etc, lots and lots of letter cases - not silly ass envelopes, but actual intricately designed cases - and utensils. 1 particular utensil caught the Potato's attention. Its a big plate with grooves in it. The guide explained that it was specially designed so that all the ghi in the biriyani could fall in the grooves and the eater wouldn't have to stuff himself with ghi - apparently an old health measure...ingenious.

Overall, it was a lovely place and both Potato and SS were happy. Well at least Potato was, you can never tell with women. Anyway, they hailed another auto and went to Chowmahallah Palace. For those of you who have never been there, its a big ass complex with 4 (or were there 5?) palaces. Each palace had numerous old pics, furnitures, memorabilia etc. There's also a clock tower. And there's also a big ass fountain - cue muppets disguised as college girls posing in front of it and taking pics...numpties.

From the pictures it became evident that the Nawab family had some of the worst looking people in history. As ugly as...err....well at least as ugly as the Meister. There were also a few monobrows around. However, being as rich as Bill Gates, one of the Nawabs convinced the Caliph of Turkey to get his daughter married to him. That lady was beautiful, as was her sister, as is her descendants. The moral of the story being that there is absolutely no disadvantage in being rich. [So hypothetically speaking, if the Meister suddenly becomes a multi-billionaire, even he will become attractive in ladies' eyes....well nah not really there isn't enough money in the world that will make that pug ugly antithesis of Brad Pitt attractive.]

Back to the story. There's also a big ass clock - probably the cousin of the one in Salar Jun Museum. The palaces also contain a huge collection of swords, daggers and shields. A few axes also but alas, no maces. There's also an area where there are a number of old chariots, old cars and 3 old bikes - including an old Harley. Its almost 100 years old and dilapidated but still looks better than the Hero Hondas. It was in this area that some kids from an adjacent school waved at the Potato. It led to a revelation of epic proportions.

They met an old couple who were resting, and who for strange reason wanted to talk to them. The old gentleman talked about his gargantuan eating habits and his wife was very proud of it. SS got so distracted by their story that when she found a parrot feather, she happily picked it up and was about to put it in her hair when she realised that it was pan stained.

Anyway, overall it was a very satisfying and pleasing trip. Whilecoming back, Potato innocently asked SS what part she liked the best. She told him a few stuff which she liked. And then she told him what she really likes - young boys...or more specifically young boys in school dress.

u guys have dirty minds.....she meant the young kids waving at them and generally being all enthu

Muppets here, Muppets there, there are Muppets everywhere

Or at least everywhere in Hyderabad. Its true.

And its not only about the Meister's boss who is Kermit the Frog in disguise. He, after all, is the same guy who rented an office which did not have water or electricity or a parking lot...the imbecile.

No there are more, many in fact.

Not least of them are the idiots from ABN, who have put up some huge billboards with pics of Bhagat Singh, Netaji, Che and Jesus...yes the correct expression at this point is WTF!!

The poster-boy of non-violence in the same page as these cut-throats??? Why?????????? Who comes up with this stuff...the imbecile.

[On a separate vein, Jesus is the original Muppet of Christiandom, think about it...this dude who is his own father and also a ghost comes to earth as a Jew, befriends such lovely lads as Judas {what a numpty} and gets his arse kicked by those luj characters...if that's not a Muppet then nothing is]

Anyway, there are other Muppets in Hyderabad as well. They have now infiltrated that bunch of menace to humanity - the autowallahs.

Meister knows that calling them Muppets is an understatement, but what else are you going to call someone who asks the way to Secbad rail station, in front of Keys High School!!! A new person in the city he understand, but a foocking autowallah!!!....the moron

Now we come to the Muppet extraordinaires...the Hech Har people. One member of this species recently mailed the Meister saying that he doesn't meet the criteria of what the company is looking for (this after the Meister had kicked arse in both rounds of tests). There's nothing i nthe rejection....the Meister has been rejected by all and sundry, he is almost a professional reject. What is Muppetesque however, is the fact that the same dimwit called up the Meister a few days later and told him that it was all a mistake and can he still come for interviews. Then this dynamic dumdum compounds the muppetpsity bt telling the meister that the interview will be at 2 and the ntelling the interviewer that it will be at 2.30....the dingbat

The main Muppet, however, according to the Meister, is the Meister himself. As a result of his immense depression, frustration and overall tiredness, he has recently shouted at 2 of his subordinates, and has even threatened to fire one of them. Although it worked, and since then both had cleaned up their work consideraby, the point here is that Meister has done something which he himself hates, and thus has become a hypoocrite....ergo a Muppet.

The Meister is now well and truly scared, mortified etc....Is he slowly becoming less and less of the p word and becoming more and more of the b word???!!!! Is he becoming a corporate honcho, despite hating those bar studs??? Is he displaying boss like properties??? Has the power gone to his head???The mind boggles...

Cue more depression

Socks, socks, his kingdom for a pair of socks

Ok, technically not a kingdom (Meister belongs to that group of people whose name starts with a p and the mere mention of whom makes Don Violent blow her top and threaten GBH to the Meister)

On an aside, don't you think that the phrase 'blow her top' should be sued for giving a wrong picture to a dude's mind?? A dude upon listening to the phrase, would picturise a girl actually taking off her top and....well doesn't really matter what else..girl taking her top off is enough...., but instead would actually get the modern equivalent of bloody Boudicea. If there ever was a case of false advertisement....

Anyway to come back to topic, Meister needs a butler desperately or someone, anyone who can pair socks. See, the Meister can do a lot of things. He however, cannot do even more things....simple things which other people seem to manage......say for example oiling your boss/guide, or acting/pretending that someone is someone's best friend and then stabbing them in the back or even bitching about them behind their back....or pairing a sock.

The Meister is completely incapable of this simple task. Its some block in his brain or something. It was ok in school as all the socks were white. But now, its a massacre. the Meister has about 40-50 socks, none in pair. The Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion matches them up whenever she comes down, but once used and given to the maid, they all come back as a whole and not as pairs. The Meister's sartorial extravaganza now doesn't reach his socks. You can see him wearing a navy blue and a black or a navy blue and a brown or a black and a brown together. In those rare cases that you might find him with 2 socks of the same colour, they will inevitably be of different sizes and designs. There's even a grey one, which the Meister is pretty sure he has never bought...mysterious you know.

So, the Meister needs a butler......on second thoughts no not really.....given Fate's, Life's, Destiny's and Mother Nature's endearing habit to continuously kick the Meister in his bollocks, it is better not to have a butler. The guy would probably steal all of the Meister's socks.

Myths

Well, the Meister has recently been as sad, depressed and drunk as a skunk in a funk.

In one of these moodes, he started thinkin about mythology - you know the stuff with gods and demons and heroes etc etc. So here is what he thought.

Christianity: The belief that a cosmic Jewish Zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat from a magical tree.

Barring that, what we have is basically a lot of seriously cool stories involving lots of drinking, wars and sex, one great thing about mythologies is the characters - esp the animals.

Greeks: Chimera (1/3rd lion, goat and serpent..who thought of that?? seriously thats one of the coolest creatures ever), 9 headed Hydra, Cerebus, Minotaur

The Phoenix is a bit of a traveller and keeps popping out in many myths - Egyptian, Arabic, Chinese and Japanese (not to mention Harry Potter)

The Norse, on the other hand were not that into animals. True they had that giant snake and that giant wolf, but apart from them it was mostly men and women. However, what they do have going for them are the Valkyries.

Picture this, you go fight, if you win you get gold, cattle, women; if you die some big boobed woman will come and carry you off to Valhalla where you will spend the rest of eternity in a party with neverending buffet and alchohol. I mean this is the perfect win-win situation if there ever was one. No wonder those dudes were so fearless and all. Its the best after death scenario ever.

Talking about death, lets compare after death scenarios in some other cultures.

According to them Greeks, you die, then you go to the underworld where you have to pay Chiron to take u across Styx or Acheron, and then you get judged and depending on the result, you are sent to Elysium for the blessed, Tartarus for the damned, and Asphodel for the rest.

Everyone knows about the Egyptians and their morbid preoccupation with death. In their case, it is the baboon/ibys Thoth who judges the soul in a balance with a feather.

I am leaving out the Mayans and the Incans. Those bloodthirsty dudes were more interested in the deaths of their victims than their own.

Now we come to our very own Hindu myths. You die, you go to th underworld and you meet whom - another bloody clerk/ bureaucrat!!!!!!!!!! Bloody Chitragupta with his bloody ledger. A prime area for corruption if you ask me.

For that matter, look at our gods. The most powerful one is a pothead who kills his wife when she nags him too much (not cool dude, not cool). Another of our main gods in a geriatric married to a young lady - who is supposed to be the god of wisdom and learning - you married a geriatric lady, how smart was that? and we are supposed to follow your example). The 3rd of our main gods is the grandfather of all loose characters - the dude goes around marrying/seducing hundreds of women and as a kid, goes and hides the clothes of ladies when they are bathing thus forcing them to walk naked in front of him!!!

On the plus side, we do have some pretty powerful goddesses and pre-incarnations of Buffy so to speak - you know all them demon slaying goddesses et all. We have the world's 1st multi species transplant involving for some weird reason gods and eleophants, we have nuclear weapons, flying chariots, shapeshifting demons etc. Some of our gods are even green you know, they recycle themselves and come as different avatars.

However, they are some mean bastards - they regularly make the asuras do the hard work and then they steal all the good stuff and kill the asuras.......hmm doesn't that remind you of the modern day bosses?

Calls

Meister was looking at his phone and thinking how an extremely nominal number of people call him. He started counting and could not even reach 5. There is the twice daily calls fro mthe Esteemed Nuters of the Parental Persuasion and there are the more or less weekly calls from Sandman and SS. That's it......no one else!!!

Well, his boss calls, but that's either to give him more work or to give him galis, so that can be discounted and damned. MS sometimes calls, but that's usually to mke plans for a movie. Even dear old Uncle calls, but not regularly, more like once a month. Of course, Brandybuck doesn't need to call...since they have been best friends and talking from age 3.

This has pretty much been the theme of Meister's life. When he was in school, he used to get loads of claas. Ditto in college and university. But withing 6 months of passing out, the calls stop, the always stop.

All this really highlights the kindness of SS and the Sandman. Meister can't even begin to put into words how grateful he is to these two. SS, in particular, has an amazing knack of calling whenever the Meister is allowing in self-pity, misery and sadness - and she never fails to take his mind off his sorry existence. Well, Meister has a sneaky feeling that she is slowly becoming a saint. What else can you call a lady who is incapable of saying bad things about Quislex and foocking HechHar people??? As far as the Sandman goes, he is the Meister's best friend, barring Brandybuck of course, and is one of the nicest human beings around. If only he could stop his tendency to ask girls out for coffee!!!

Anyway, the point is that the Meister is eternally grateful etc to these 2 for taking time off their busy lives to talk to him.

Oh btw, the Great Indian Chunkubaaz also used to call the Meister oince upon a time. But ever since he got addicted to boudis and hair gel, he has stopped calling.

Planning for the Future - Exercise in Futility

What's d point of planning for the future? No seriously, what is the point? No one has seen the future, no one knows whats going to happen. So why thik and be worried about the future? Live for the present. Afterall, you can have life defining and life changing moments and not even though that it is the beginning of the rest of your life.

Same thing happened to me.

It was 1st semester in the looney den. I was standing for elections. I was campaigning. Sir Gaysalot was with me. In front of the mess he intrduced me to this girl and asked her to vote for me. Normal, mundane, everyday stuff right? Bloody wrong, who in foock's anme would have guessed that moment to be the changing of my life, the beginning of the rest of my life...hell even I didn't know.

She was just another girl. I had seen her before, during classes she used to sit in the front bemch of either the left or the central rows. She sued to hang out with the foreign kids. So naturally, I thought o000o another hoity toity. Well, 1st appearances are almost always deceptive aren't they?

Those of you who know her know that she is not hoity toity at all - nowhere near as hoity toity as the Xaverians or those poster people for hypocrisy - the cultural studies gang.

Well, my point is there is no way of knowing what the future holds or whom ou are going to meet or how big a part of your life the person you are going to meet is going to be. I never realised that when I first met her. Nor did I realise it for the 1st couple of months either, we used to hang around, chat etc. Nothing was amiss and then bam we had our 1st fight. I made fun of her when he had gone out for lunch as she was studying in the restaurant.

4-5 months we did not talk. 1 of those during the winter break. That was the 1st inkling I had that this girl might be Special, after all apart from football, I have never missed someone so much in my life. So, once I went back I tried talking to her and lo and behold she accepted. And that has been going on for the last 5 years now - I get pissed off or sad r something and stop talking for weeks or months and then when I start missing her way way too much, I again call her. She accepts every time (truth be told I am a bit surprised at that...I mean why? why would someone keep doing that?).

Anyway, back to the point again. The point is you never know what's going to happen and the best laid plans of mice and men etc etc. I never planned to fall in love, was alwaya bit of a misogynist and was always determined to be a bachelor. Still am a bachelor and will always be a bachelor but despite having no intentions to do so, fell in love.....thereby making my life unnecessarily more complicated.

So I have decided that from now on

1) its go with the flow time

2) everything looks better fter a few drinks (possible exception Ayush Prasad)

3) you can never have too much football

Ergo, get drunk while watching football, you really don't needto plan for anything else in life.

Mathew Harding's Blue and White Soldier

Well ever since the Meister and Potato met me, they have been bugging me to write something for their blog. I admit I am not as funny as the Meister or Potato. Plus, I don't know any of the people they keep talking about. So I was always in a quandary as to what to write for them. I asked them and both of them said that since hardly anyone reads their blog and almost noone apart from that Wasted girl comments anyway, it really doesn't matter what I write about.

Hardly encouraging is it? I don't know why they keep on writing though, because nothing's worse for an author than people iognoring his or her work totally. Even bad criticism is better than no response. But still its their blog and I am just a guest.

So I kept on thinking about what to write and then decided that I should write about what brought me in contact with Meister and the Potato in the first place - our love for football in general and Chelsea in particular.

I have been a Chelsea fan since the mid 90s. I have seen Ken foocking bates almost destroy our club, I have seen the Roman era, I have seen the Tinkerman losing us a match, I have seen Uefa not allowing us to win match after match after match. I have seen Gullit and Villi's artsy teams (Chelsea 5 Machester United 0 http://www.mychelseafc.com/reports/1999-2000/chelsea_50_manchester_united.htm...still brings tears to my eyes) seen Mourinho's juggernaut, seen the invisible Grant; seen Scolari fuck it all up and the Great Guus resurrecting us.

People keep harping about Roman leaving but hell if he leaves we will be better than when he came in, so that's progress and am not worried.

Which brings me to Ancelotti and the current season.

I am still a bit wary about the diamond formation 4-1-2-1-2. It didn't work during Scolari and its not that effective now. Against Villa, it didn't work at all. Didn't help that Villa played a blinder. It seems that it won't work against any team with good wingers. That's not a good thing at all. The whole problem is that with the diamond formation, there is too much responsibility and pressure on the full backs, they have to attack and defend. Bosingwa can't do both. In fact, he can't really defend that well.

So, as long as we have some backup plans, maybe a traditional 4 -4 -2 or a 4-3-3 or even a 4-5-1 or a 4-2-3-1, I am happy. Under Scolari we had none.

True we lost to Wigan but hey Titus Bramble happens. When Titus Bramble scores against you, it just is not your day, simple.

We are just 1 point off the top in the Prem and are the only with 100% records in wins and clean sheets in the Champs League, so signs are good. We thrashed Atletico 4-0, though they are crap at the moment, and Kalou scored twice in a game. That got me scared to be honest. If Kalou scores twice in 1 game, does that mean that the world is coming to an end?

Well, at least we Blues have a balanced view of the footballing world, unlike the Liverfools - who think that sun rises and sets from St. Steven's arse, or the Manures - who think that Lord God Fergie's purple nose is the sun and hence he world revolves round it and thus its normal that they get Fergie Standard Time.

Art of Writing

I recently read this small piece by the Special One. It was beautiful, highly depressing stufff, but beautiful nonetheless. I never knew she could write such good stuff. It was surprising. Well, come to think of it, it wasn't that surprising since hell she is a Ciefl girl after all. Well despite the fact that Ciefl does have its own share of idiots, people who can't spell their own names correctly - ala a certain neighbour of mine, and Ayush Prasad - who spills bullshit every time he opens his mouth or touches pen to paper or finger to keyboard as the case may be

Writing isn't easy, good writing is rare, hell judging by my colleagues even grammatical writing is gut wrentchingly difficult, so to see such a nice piece of writing all of a sudden was very nice. What attracted me was the way the feelings of a youg child was portrayed so realistically and convincingly.

I have no hesitation in saying that I will never be able to wrie something like that, but then again serious stuff is not exactly my forte. My forte is more in the lines of making people smile, chuckle, laugh, shake their heads in exasperation or exclaim "What the fuck is wrong with that bald fuck? How the fuck can he write fucking trash like this? etc etc" Deep thinking, introspection or talking about issues won't happen after reading my stuff. So I won't even try.

But all this writing stuff got me thinking - what if I was a screenplay writer you know. Well, here's what would have happened. The world would have been saddled with the following immortal lines

Frankly my dear, I care more about football (Gone with the Wind)

With great power comes great responsibilty, so appoint a good manager - call Guus Hiddink (Spiderman)

I will be with John Connor. Call him to pass on any messages. (Terminator II)

They may take our lives, but they will never take our chocolate chip cookiieesssss (Braveheart)

Hasta la manana baby (Terminator II)

Riddle me this riddle me that Who is afraid of a big giant gnat? (Batman Forever)

I am the best wanker in the world (Titanic)

So, on hindsight, it is a good thing that I am not a screenwriter.

Karma, Buggeritis and people who don't keep their words

Well everyone knows that Karma is a bitch...except in the case of the Great Indian Chunkubaaz. Being of a feminine persuation, Karma is also under the spell of that boudi seducing pillow thief, which is precisely why even her revenge on the Chunkubbaz lacks that bite. Even after not paying his bills, and swindling his company and stealing the Meister's pillow, he only gets a letter from the lawyers asking him to meet up and settle the amount..that's it. No police, no handcuffs, no kick on the backside.

The Meister's dear friend the Resident Bugger recently fell sick, so like any intelligent clear thinking person, he naturally did not tell anyone and starved himself. The magnificent moron starved himself for 2 whole days before summoning up the last vestiges of energy and IQ to call up MS. Things progressed smoothly after that(apart from the minor hiccup where the Bugger well bugged the doctor).

Anyway, immediately after meeting the doctor, true to form, he started feeling better and a couple of days later went to get his blood tasted. Here comes the strange part - his test results did not show dengue or malaria or typhoid or jaundice or swineflu - it came up with a whole new strain of virus hitherto unknown to man - H420V420. The scientists types are currently doing research on it but they have termed it Buggeritis in honour of the 1st idiot who fell sick with it.

While all this was going on, a certain friend and the meister fixed up a plan to go to the Bugger's house and get his medicine, money et all and to clean up his vomit. The Meister was gracious enough to inform the lady that he could meet her anywhere and anytime she wanted (as she had the keys). So what does she do - she calls up and postpones fiorst and thn messages to cancel the thing. The reason - she went on a shopping trip for a guest or something. Now, the Meister's problem and the reason he was pissed off like hell was this - when you give a word you keep it. Its true that such an attitude in today's day and world is stupid but hell that's what the Meister is like. He rarely gives his word but when he does he tries like hell to keep it and he sure as hell doesnt make plans with someone else.

Anyway, when the Meister first learnt about Bugger's latest bout of bugging, he was on a food date with Don Violent, where to his everlasting and immense shame he got lost while trying to find the loo.

You reap what you sow - silly foocking aphorism

You reap what you sow - unless you are the Meister, in which case you just keep on working and working and working, like that Greek whatsishname who keeps on rolling that stone up the mountain.

I really envy that fat assclown (the Potato, not the Greek dude). Well, obviously not his looks (the face that will crash a 1000 ships if it suddenly pops up on a dark night) or his physique (resembles a snowman..no not the abominable one).


I do all the work, and he reaps all the rewards.


For example, take last Saturday. Brownie was sick, so I decided to take her to Blue Cross. So I went to that den of whackjobs called Cielf/Eflu. I went to my ex-abode (which btw took away 8-9 years of my life via passive smoking, passive sniffing and repeated exposure to Ayush Prasad)
I roamed around the damn place and the campus but as usual could not find her anywhere. Then I learnt that some bastard had called the MCHech, who had come and had happily abducted 3 dogs.
So, I was worried. I called up the Violent Don, she called up more people...there was a flurry of phonecalls to find out who had called whom etc etc. A nice young girl whose name I have forgotten (hey I suffer from Mad Bull Disease, don't judge me) also came to help us. (There was another of those fox passing thingies...the young girl said she would come with us, I thought she said no.........never understanding what women want - story of my life)
We all decided to go to Blue Cross for further action. So, we travelled and we reached the Blue Cross gate and only when we reached the gate did we get the call that Brownie was still in campus. So, we went in and told the problems and fixed matters so that an ambulance would come in th evening to take Brownie away. By the time all this got over and Brownie finally went to hospital, it was about 5.

Don Violent then invited me over to her room for some coffee and UNO. So guess what happens?

I lose at UNO and then lose at UNO some more and then lose at UNO even more. Things turned really pathetic when thankfully I got an invitation to attend Sir Paunchsalot's birthday party later that night. I was all enthu, I came back home and took a bath etc and then......foocking fell asleep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Since I was sleeping, he went instead. And he ate, he drank and won 50 bucks out of nothing in a card game. He borrowed money from the Sexy Aunty, which he promptly lost. See, the problem was that he was sober when the game started. As the rounds progressed, he became significantly drunker and drunker and by the 6th or 7th peg, his brain was positively buzzing - result he won 50 bucks twice in the space of 3 rounds.

This is something interesting that I have seen before also - the progressively drunker he becomes, the better he becomes at indoor games. He positively kicks ass at Taboo when drunk, he is damn good at Cluedo when drunk, the only time in Monopoly when he does not get bankrupt is when he is drunk!!

Being a strict coffeetotaller on the other hand, I suck at all of them. I suck at these games more than anyone has ever sucked in the history of these games - nay in the history of history.

So I guess all of you understand my frustrations don't you. No wonder I am always depressed and sad and miserable etc etc.

But then I read this article and started feeling all right again.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/sep/07/charlie-brooker

After all, the Great A'tuin would probably finish his journey some day, not to mention the distinct possibility of one of the 4 elephants standing on him slipping (the 5th one has already fallen after all), and where will all of us be then? Huh? Huh? Not even Leonard of Quirm or the wizards at Unseen University have an answer to that..if you didn't understand anything of that, read Pratchett or you deserve to get your goolohoog head kicked.

Puts things into real perspective doesn't it?

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding

In all of the directions it can whiz

As fast as it can go, at the speed of light you know

Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is

So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure

How amazingly unlikely is your birth

And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space

Because there's bugger all down here on Earth

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=buqtdpuZxvk

It's a Disease

When you can hear a couple whispering "I Love You" in each other's ears from 200 yards away...

When you are surrounded by a bunch of uncouth roughneck savage barbarians wearing the yellow and red dress of East Bengal screaming and speaking in a language which does not follow any rule of linguistics whatsoever.....

When you see a bunch of guys pissing on a "Please do not pass urine here" sign......

When you see women walking around the street in their nighties in the middle of the day......

When you see thousands and thousands of people walking around on the streets wearing shirts, pants and hawai chappals.....

When you see a whole bunch of people shaking their head or/and using their hands or/and movin their whole body like a pendulum while listening to a msicall soiree etc, albeit without following any rhythm or beat......

When you see a whole bunch of people, who despite being primary school dropouts, arguing vociferously about something that they have no idea whatsoever.....

When you see a group of people truly believing that they are better than the legends of any sports......

When you see a group of people who can't even digest their food without sticking their nose into other's business and peeping into their neighbours' lives....

When you see a whole species of people who spend their whole lives trying to butter up to people and who can change their allegiances at the drop of a hat and will stab you in the back.......

.......then you know that either you are in an alternative universe where Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair etc etc.........

......or you are in Bangal counry

Disclaimer: No human being is a Bangal by birth.....Bangalness is like a disease, much like say HIV, its something that a person acquires.....some people are born humans, and then they become Bangals....and as cuch these creatures should not be shunned, they shopuld be pitied and helped.....and if they are East Bengal supporters - then beaten up.

Meister vs Aliens

This is the Potato again.

I have had to take over this blog yet again, though temporarily, coz the Meister has gone bananas. His nerves are shattered, his confidence is gone etc. Personally, I think he is just a bit of a wus but anyway.

It all started (according to the dynamic dimwit anyway) when he apparently started making all them fox passes ...(the hoity toity la-di-das pronounce it differently of course)...(btw I want to meet the guy who managed to train the foxes to play football, that guy should be the Indian team coach).......and he did it in front of the most violent Mafia leader he has ever known. ...ye know her...that leader of the LOLZ Mafia..

Apparently she is a feminist plus a cultural studies research scholar, and a close friend of the man who should be beaten up periodically, preferably at least 3 times every week for the benefit of mankind and civilization - Ayush Prasad. Ye all know the Meister's viwes regarding all three groups of people - though doubt lingers whether Ayush can be considered as people. So, there he was happily cursing all and sundry, when the declaration from the Violent One came, thereby scaring the bejeejus out of the Meister.

He has been a little out of whack ever since.

He has been so out of whack that he lost 2 stare-downs to 2 kids in about 2 hours in 1 night. Yep, the kids actually stared him down. Once in Inox and once while coming back home, Meister was on the bike, kid was in a car...Stupid silly good for nothing muppet.

But the worst was yet to come.

Next day he had just started from home for office when he chanced upon a billy goat. They both stodd still and looked at each other.

Then there was a mexican standoff....both stared at each other without moving or batting an eyelash (though truth be told the billy goat had an advantge, he didn't have eyelashes)...

It was an epic encounter between man and beast

It was mano y goato at its finest.

So they stared and they stared.....and then...of course you know it.....

Meister blinked

shame, mortification, sorrow, ignominy, disgrace etc etc

He went back home and hasn't left it yet. I have had to go to office and do all other stuff. He is just lying there staring at the ceiling and sighing.

The dimwit is now saying that it must have been an alien goat and thats why it's mojo was so strong etc.

Well, I told him that if the goat was an alien, then the Meister is a monster, in fact he is the Missing Link.

No, not the link between man and ape nor the link between mammals and reptiles.....

Meister is the link between man and muppet.

Curse of the Chunkubaaz Strikes Again

Well, ye all know that crafty, randy, notorious seducer of boudis, lover of all products related to hair and addict of Orkut - the Great Indian Chunkuubazz. Ye also know that he recently ditched the Meister after paying heed to the call of a boudi. What ye all do not know is that this dude can put Scrooge McDuck to shame. In the Hindi-English dictionary, there is his picture beside the entry 'kanjush'. Well, when he was here, the Meister never gave him a party for the simple reason that McChunku never gave the Meister one. So, the McChunku never got a chance to see Meister's hot friends....he was jealous etc.

So when he somehow learnt about Meister's plans of hosting a party, he decidded to curse it. As the President of the "Bug the Meister" mafia/secret society, he had ample resources at his disposal. He made a masterplan and dispatched his agents.

First, he did weird things to the time-space continuum so that Meister could not invite his dear friends SS and MS.

Second, he scheduled someone's birthday so that Jellio could not come.

Third, he threatened our Resident Scientist - the Bee Man so much that the poor lad chickened out

Fourth, he somehow provided wrong directions to the Resident Bugger...since this is the Bugger, he took the wrong directions and made mistakes with the directions and reached the right place.

Fifth, he manged to get someone to blow some germs up the Prenniallyinjuredthung Ovung's nose, so that he fell sick.

Sixth, he arranged wih a professional hitman to hit Ex-lord Botanist with a car while he was coming back from work...poor lad has a broken wrist now.......damn you McChunku

Seventh, he somehow manged to convince all the orthopedics to go home, so poor lad with the broken wrist had to wander aroundhospitals all night without treatment

Eighth, he got some dude to dress up in a state-of-the-art invisible suit and steal the Meister's phone

Ninth, he messed up players' minds so much that during Taboo we had Talksalot giving clue to Hugh Jackman as the person who was in Edward Scissorhands (wtf right?) and Sexy Aunty giving clue to something as "this is something that Don Violent and I are going through/having right now"...its supposedlt mid-life crisis, all the guys present thought something else that starts with a m

Tenth, he managed to make the Meister late in picking up Don Violent, leader of the LOLZ Mafia, and as a result, they were late for the opening of the Potter movie

Eleventh, he got one of his agents to bomb the transformer near the Meister's office so that the Meister could not write this post - he did this for 3- 4 days continously

All of which proves

1) the potency of the Chunku...no wonder all the boudis go gaga over him

2) the determination and resoluteness of the Meister. Being one of them resolute dudes, he finally managed to finish this post, after overcoming overwhelming odds like blasted transformers, screwed up net connections, muppet bosses and splitting headaches.

10 Signs that prove SS's Nutterosity

You have heard of SS? She is Meister's friend - a great lovely kind friendly lady. Unfortunately she also happens to be a nutter...(well all women are, but you know what the Meister means),.. although nowhere near the league of Meister's esteemed family members. You are asking how the Meister came to this conclusion? Well its because......

1. She talks about obfusication with the Meister at 3.15 in the night(or morning if you are feeling pedantic)

2. She dances and sings in the cinema hall.

3. She was usually one of the last to leave that Lawless Jungle every night. She quit that place, and joined a new place and guess when she leaves ....yep long after everyone else leaves

4. She actually used to like that Jungle when she was there, and here's the thing - she apparently still does

5. She has a crush on OCD Man....rather she is fascinated with him...OCD Man, the guy who can pick a fight with his own shadow for no being in the perfect psition; the guy who says asshole and disgusting about 17 and 19 times respectively every day; the guy who uses pork as a subject-matter in a wooing process; - SS is so enamoured with him that she keeps calling the Meister by his (OCD"s) name

6. She is scared of Midas!!!!!!!!

7. She likes Bongs!!!!!....seriously!!!!!!!!

8. She reads about those sissy vampires of Ms. Myers :-(

9. When the Meister gives her a gift, she thanks Bugger. Yep, she actually does that. Well, she has also consistently called the Meister with OCD's name throughout the last 3 years (well either she is obsessed with OCD or she is bored bythe Meister)

10. She dreams/fantasises about Mr. Mythological Spirit

Well, in the spirit of the festive season where u buy something and u get something else free, here's another reason which proves that SS desperately needs therapy -

She still calls up the Meister, goes to movies with him etc etc, and seems to like him!!!

Now if that does not prove that she is a nutter, then there's something wrong with this world.

Ditch the Meister - the nation's new favourite pasttime (along with spitting, cutting trees and digging roads)

It all started with ....well who else....that notorious seducer of boudis, that self-delusioned reincarnation of Don Juan and Casanova, the man single-handedly responsible for keeping the hair-gel industry afloat - the Great Indian Chunkuubaaz. After promising the Meister that he would be staying in Hyderabad for at least another 2-3 years, he ran away. He just could not resist the call of the boudi (reminds the Meister of them frustrated randy Greek sailors in Odyssey and them German sailors in myths and them Sirens) and lunked off leaving the Meister high and dry!!! And this after 10 years of close friendship :-(

Well as a matter of fact, the first one to ditch the Meister was his closest friend in college - all over a girl!!! Meister had a mini-crush on a girl, nothing serious, just a crush, the son of a porcupine fell in love with the same girl. He felt threatened by the Meister as the girl used to hang around the Meister because the Meister was that damn good in English. So in order to win the girl, the dynamic dumdum started to spread rumours and malign the Meister's character in public. The funny thing (well funny now not then) was that the Meister had no clue and if only the numbskull had come and told him all, Meister would have actually helped him in his wooing process. See the Meister has no problems if someone invokes his name and paints his character as heinous and akin to Idi Amin, Pol Pot, cultural studies students etc. All he asks is that the person should tell the Meister what he/she is doing.

Anyway, to go back to the ditching part. Sir Gaysalot proudly upheld the tradition by ditching the Meister twice in the same trip - once in Bhubaneshwar and then in the motherland. The official reason was sickness, the unofficial reason- extreme boredom. He had ditched the Meister once before also - he had stopped talking coz he was apparently disillusioned with the Meister!!!

Then it was he turn of our very own present day slave owner - The Pampered Princess. She ditched the Meister because she started missing slaves as he refused to wait hand over foot on her. The final straw was when the Meister ignored her orders to go fetch water and she had to walk all of 15 metres to get it - how horrible!!!

The most recent boarders of the Ditch Meister bandwagon are his 2 friends SS and MS. They ditched the Meister after making plans to go see Public Enemies. Despite being mule tired after working all weekend and a bloody good downpour, Meister went to the theatre and got the tickets only to get the news that neither of the 2 would be able to make it coz of work :-( :-( (granted that's a good excuse but disappointing nonetheless)

Suffice to say thzt the Meister is a bit jittery nowadays...the rumour is that he is looking over his shoulders all the while keeping a lookout on the sides and in front as well (its bloody difficult)...the last thing he wants to do now is to fall into a ditch.

Chronicles of the Passport Office - The Meister, The Muppet and the Devastation

The Meister recently went on an adventure - an adventure to a strange and weird land, a mysterious land full of paper pushing muppets - to get himself a passport. Why he actually needs a passport is another matter altogether as he is too fat and lazy to go anywhere.

It was a dark and dirty place full of sweating people - some due to fear, some due to nevousness, In the Meister's case it was due to extreme foocking heat. This being Bong country some comrade had gone and kept the ACs at 32degC. There were also some ricketty fans from another era but the less said about them the better. Anyway the Meister went and stood in a que and discovered that he wouldn't have to stand long. There were sits upront. So he stood and looked around. Imagine his surprise when he found out that he had somehow become the centre of attention in the damn room. Initially taken aback, he soon realised that it was because of his most excellent moustache - truly a work of art. Unfortunately, this being Bong country, the looks were more suspicious than appreciative. However, there were a few connossieurs of fine things around and their eyes told the tale of their awe and appreciation.

After standing for about 20 mins, the Meister finally got a seat. The seating arrangement was such that there was a queue of seats and you have to hop from seat to seat while making your way to the counter. (picture the secunderabd railway booking counter) You would think that this is a good arrangement right? Unfortunately, the trials and tribulations of the Meister weren't over. This being the kingdom of the Comrades, maintenance is a word which is not present in the lexicon/vocabulary. Ergo, the 3rd seat that the Meister sat on fell apart.

Result - pissed off Meister, ecstatic onlookers

Anyway lightning doesn't strike the same place twice right?

The Meister is currently seaching for the idiot who said it. They have unfinished business.

So, 3 time's the charm isn't it? Well in Meister's case, it is 4 times the charm. Although truth be told, because of his excellent athleticism he never actually fell down. Anyway trailing a wide swathe of destruction and devastation like a bull in a china shop (Meister always wonders about this - How did this adage come about? What experiment was done? Just how many times was it conducted? Which deranged lunatic actually put a bull into a china shop? What was the purpose?) the Meister finally reached the counter.

He handed over the application form and the necessary documents. The muppet at the counter asked him for his Voters ID. Meister said that he doesn't have one. All well and good so far.

The muppet lit the fuse by then asking "why not?"

This was too much for the Meister. Being an extremely polite gentleman he didn't blow his top, instead he started a lecture. He pointed out the sad state of affairs of the Indian political system in general and the bong political scene in particular. He explained the horns of a dilemna that any self-respecting Bong faces during election time - whether to vote for a bunch of hypocrite humbugs who are supported by the cultural studies crowd or to vote for a bunch of nincompoops.

The mupper kept on looking at him in shock and awe, then he closed his mouth, stamped all the papers, printed the reciept and handed it over without a single word.


So now the Meister is the proud owner of a receipt. He is more or less certain that thats the only thing he will get. There's only a slim, nay almost no chance, that he will pass the police verification especially since he is in 1 city while the police is in another.

You can Never Please a Woman

Meister recently created 2 calendars (you know those create ur own design and the dudes will print it wala) for SS and MS as a sort of apology for The Hangover. According to Mr. Murphy's most excellent laws, they were delivered the day after he met them. Anyway he called SS and they fixed up a time and venue for the handover. So, guess what happens. SS receives the gift and..............thanks the Resident Bugger!!!!!!!!!!
This is the story of Meister's life.......on the few occasssions that he does something nice for someone, someone else gets the credit.
To add insult to metaphorical injury, SS then complained about MS's calendar being better than her own etc etc. See MS got a Potter calendar coz she is obsessed with Potter (and with namby pamby vampires of Stephanie Myers sadly). SS, on the other hand, is obsessed with the OCD Man. Unfortunately, as OCD Man is like a reclusive celebrity who does not like his picture taken,
Meister does not have any of his pictures and so he couldn't make a calendar with his picture and give it to SS. So, being a nice guy, he did the next best thing. He used a picture of SS herself, along with the Potter lookalike Birdgirl and the Bugger. You would think that would do the trick don't you......instead there was complaints for him and plaudits for the Bugger.
All of which proves once again that it is really impossible for a man to please a woman. It is beyond the realms and limits of mere mortal male endeavour.

This explains a lot doesn't it

The Meister has an eccentric family (understatement of the millenium). The Meister has decided to write a post about them to show the world...well...to show them why he is what he is...so here goes....

Let's start with those immensely loved and respected nutters who are his parents...

Exhibit 1

The Meister's Father - Dr. Bishanbindu Bandyopadhyay

• Got married in his early 20s, while being a research scholar
• Loves doing all kinds of mathematical calculations......seriously
  
• Once shouted "Shut up and Get out" to a guy standing on the street
  
• Used to play football till well into his 40s
  
• Has been teaching in a girl's college for the last 3 decades without exhibiting any strange homicidal or genocidal symptoms
  
• Used to regularly tell the Meister "nobody ever becomes rich from studying"
• Is terrfied of the very notion of the Meister driving
• Gave 'carte blanche' to the Meister to do whatever he wants to, except Drugs, Suicide and Running away from home
  

Exhibit 2

The Meister's Mother - Dr. Udita Bandyopadhyay

• Refused to go to hospital after heart attack
  
• Blamed the Meister's unwillingness to marry as a reason for abovementioned heart attack
  
• Went and bought a fricking tree trunk......yep an actual tree trunk, and cut it into pieces and uses it as furniture
  
• Climbed scaffolding and chiselled.....yep actually did that with her own hands....a design on our house wall
  
• Completely changes her voice when talking on the phone
• Refuses to believe that the Meister is a loser in spite of all evidence to the contrary
• Tripped on her own leg and broke her foot
• Is interested in almost every damn thing on the planet, except sports
• Had a pet rat
• Once nearly drove herself into a pond (has subsequently stopped driving...to the great relief of all and sundry)...come to think of it, now that the Meister knows about SS's fatal attraction towards trees while riding, he is not that surprised..

Exhibit 3

The Meister's Paternal Grandfather - Mr. Sushil Banerjee

• When he was young, madly fell in love with grandma, and went to future father-in-law and threatened to kidnap his daughter if he was not allowed to marry the girl. The Meister's existence proves that the threat worked.
  
• The Dude once beat up a guy thoroughly for misbehaving and showing attitude. At that time, Grandpa was 70 while the guy was around 50.
  
• Once threatened to beat up a ration shop owner for misbehaving and showing attitude
• Even now, in his 80s, the gentleman is a Vishwa Hindu Parishad activist.
  
• Is very interested in English films and English literature
  
• Regularly calls the Meister and asks questions like "What was the name of that film where....", "Where did I read about this character who....." and "What was the name of that actor who...."

Exhibit 4

The Meister's Paternal Grandmother - Purnima Banerjee

• Fell in love with the abovementioned gentleman
• Continued to eat hot and spicy stuff even after diagnosed with stomach cancer
• Used to bug the Meister to get the Brahmin thread

Paternal Grandparents combined

Named their 4 kids - Bitanbindu, Bishanbindu, Bidita and Binita

Historical Footnote: The fathers of these 2 characters both rejected the opportunity to buy land and build homes in Kolkata and chose Chittagong and Naihati over Kolkata.

That decision turned out well, didn't it?

Exhibit 5

The Meister's Maternal Grandfather - Tarapado Ghosh

Mathematics teacher........nothing else needs to be said now, does it?

But there are oh so many things to be said

Anecdotes:

The gentleman was lying and wanted to change the fan speed. So, he first called for his wife, then his daughter, then the maid, all repeatedly, but since evryone was busy some where else nobody could answer. The gentleman, feeling who knows what, got up, got dressed and went out of the house...but still didn't change the fan speed.

The gentleman used to vigorously oil his hair everyday and brush them at least 2-3 times a day,...all this despite the fact that he had a cumulative 18 hairs.

The gentleman was a lifelong communist, but poor!!!!! In this day and age when the very words 'poor' and 'CPM' coming together creates the world's best oxymoron, the gentleman lived on his pensions and did not take a single paisa from anyone

Exhibit 6

The Meister's Maternal Grandmother - Mukul Ghosh

The nicest of the lot, and the one whom the Meister loves the most (amongst his grandparents). An extremely nice and patient woman. Unfortunately, she has the habit of pestering the Meister to get married.....and you know what, she guesses about the Meister's love for the Special One and bugs the Meister to get married to her. If only she knew the truth....sigh

Gem of an Information

While the Meister's paternal grandfather is a VHP activist, his maternal grandfather was a lifelong memebr of the CPIM party. Both of them wanted the Meister to follow in their footsteps. Imagine their chagrin and disappoinment when the Meister turned out to be like....well....like the Meister

Another gem of an information: The Meister's paternal great grandfather had the surname Chatterjee or Chattopadhyay and 14 kids. So, the elder kids had the surname Chatterjee. Later in his life, the gentleman got the title of Banerjee, and hence, the younger kids got the surname of Banerjee. The Meister's grandfather being the baby of the family at number 14, thus, got the surname of Banerjee or Bandhyopadhyay...........fun isn't it.........well unless you look at it from the Meister's point of view.....

The jackass has a voter's ID and Ration Card with the name Bishwaksen Banerjee and every other certificate and PAN Card with the name Bishwaksen Bandyopadhyay........resulting in an unfortunate quagmire...due to which there are problems with the Meister's passport....

Exhibit 7

The Meister's Uncles and Aunts

His uncle - Dr. Bitanbindu Bandyopadhyay

• Being the son of a VHP activist, is naturally a hardcore CPM supporter
  
• Mad about theatre and spends own time and money to act in an amateur group
  
• Mad about his house, made it with all top quality stuff...so naturally it leaks

His aunt - Dr. Basana Bandyopadhyay

• Regularly falls asleep while standing in a bus
  
• When her daughter was young , used to regularly 'motivate' her by saying "What will happen to you? You will end up begging on the streets!!"
  
• Can utter about 351 words per minute
  
• Regularly bugs the Meister to get married, as she has the weird notion that being the oldest, the Meister should get married first and only then her daughter can get married

The above couple together has a passion for their 3 story house, which, unfortunately,

a. Despite the use of the best materials available, tend to soak water and create interesting patterns on the roof and walls, and

b. Has the most horrendous set of stairs the Meister has ever seen (or at least had ever seen, untill he came to the Telugu country..........the Telugus are kings and masters of making stairs.....no 2 steps in a staircase has ever been made of the same size in the history of architechture in the Telugu country.........and also they have managed to make at least one staircase in EFLU as the Stairway to Heaven...it leads nowhere except a drop)

They named their kids Bijetri and Bibashwan

Another uncle - Subrata Ghosh

IIT passed Engineer, loves playing Sitar, and is completely dominated by his wife

Another uncle - Debabrata Ghosh

• Got married, got divorced and is once again moving around with a girlfriend!!!! talk about crazy!!!
  
• The same gentleman quit his job around 10 years ago and is now an interior decorator
  
• The same gentleman, in his infinite wisdom, went and bought an apartment where already an old lady tenant is present, and who quite naturally, is refusing to vacate
  
• Loves climbing mountains
• Had throat cancer, still is a chain smoker

Anecdote: After the elder one got married, there were those inevitable family feuds....so it was a regular feature to see the younger one being chased by the elder one being chased by the father.

Ex- aunt - Krishna Ghosh

• Used to pinch the bejeejus outof the Meister
  
• Adopted a mountain dog and in Kolkata used to make it wear doggy sweaters
  

Exhibit 8

The Meister's Cousins

• Ratul, fell in love with and subsequently married the first girl he saw in one of them matrimonial websites,
  
• Rahul, once got embroiled in an arguement with local kids and punched someone, inevitably got beaten up for his endeavour

well since the Meister suffers from Mad Bull disease, there is a chance that he has reversed the names of the 2 above...but what the hell they are brothers afer all..so its cool

• Bijetri, is studying Phd in Physiology (thus maintaining the family tradition) and allegedly falls in love once every 4 months, and who btw loved studying and learnt Kathhak
  
• Soumi, quarelled with the Meister's mother so much they still aren't talking to each other (don't ask the Meister why they quarelled, all women are nuts) and is a Psycho something btw,
  
• Anuja, went to Delhi for Phd and quit and then to USA for Phd and quit again!!!!!
  
• Bibashwan, who looks like Guran of Phantom comics and who learnt 'miming'.......yes 'miming'
  

To make matters more interesting, the Meister has ended up with a roommate - The Great Indian Chunkubaaz - who is interested in money, hair, Orkut and married women.

So, it is a damn miracle that the Meister has managed to retain his sanity despite spending copious amounts of time in this august company. It has not been easy. The continous struggle has cost the Meister his hair.

But he has successfully managed to prove that Lunacy is not Hereditary.