Statue of Puberty

For someone to be placed in the “…busier than a page 3 socialite…” category and to top it, have it published in a business paper, it takes quite some beating (or at least upto the point of having Income Tax professionals shun into their houses).

Yes quite right, I’m in the news folks. Priyanka Joshi (not related to Apoo) from Business Standard chatted up with me over the week (last) and put me in the tabloid.

BTW, the page 3 part had me doing flips. I was down and out with tummy cramps when I read the article. A bit of a history, the friend’s mom I was talking about there is Apoo’s mum, but she was more than nice to us during the time. It was Apoo au contraire who would bully us because of his size (huge kid).

I went home with a smile the day I saw the article …. well, here’s to small fame (and glorifying it on my blog) <- I was raising a toast to meself there in case you missed it (read: stupid)

http://www.business-standard.com/common/storypage_supp.php?autono=265172&leftnm=2&subLeft=0&chkFlg=Features

and

http://www.rediff.com/money/2006/nov/18spec1.htm

or just google me (how besharam can I get!)

For those of you who despise URLs ….

“With the release of the Sony PlayStation 3 (PS3), things can only get better,” exults another gamer, Abhijeet Kunder. For this 27-year-old, gaming began at “a friend’s house”. Kunder was 10 years old when he picked up his first console.

“There were days I used to be holed up at my friend’s place for hours playing console games.” It was only when his friend’s mother told them to get out and get a life that he realised that he was hooked on to games.

Working now with Hewitt Associates in Mumbai, Kunder’s off-hours are busier than a Page 3 socialite. “I run gaming communities, LAN groups and have seen a steady escalation in terms of participants and game penetration,” he says.

I’ve been accused of buying household items only to not use it enough (or at all – before this there was the portable vacuum cleaner, handy sewing machine amongst a large a list spanning 10 years), read on…

After a good deal of thought on buying a treadmill, I did buy one only to find myself not using it for all its worth. Contemplating the belief that I would indeed get those extra pounds off, the heavy task of assembling the darn thing by itself was a huge workout. Very conveniently I skipped the mill for a week (body ache post assembly was incredible, of course, that being the reason). A week later, dawned a new beginning. Yes, I stepped on the rotor of that 3HP mean machine. I walked, jogged and ran, pumped my heart beat to a max, burnt calories like i’d never done so before. It lasted whole of twenty minutes after which I decided to rest my weary legs (for a whole week). This cycle continued for a good 2 months (20 minutes of workout followed by a week of rest).

The end result … I’ve gained a decent deal of pounds post buying the treadmill, which on scale, is a difficult task to achieve, you’d expect that outta me, now won’t you (my mum thought so, and that’s the prophecy she made, makes her a genius, i think).
She’s contemplating beating me with a whip to get me thin now after her second failed attempt at pushing me into her yoga class. I would think the whip’s the right way, most of you would too.

(dab) dab (dab) ….

Last week, was the time I turned a year older (and dumber). This au contraire to the year that passed fell far short. Last year in Charlotte, Raj and gang took me to Hooters, which for obvious reasons I cannot forget. The pretties had me do ’stuff’ with balloons on top of a chair whilst they were ‘dancing’ around singing me a birthday duel.

This year was a drab, with ’stuffie’ noses and ‘dancing’ mercury dots. Yes, I fell ill just before my birthday (or bewdaday as apoo calls it). I did however meet the boys this time (missed them last time round, although I’m sure if they’d been in Hooters, I’d be the last person they’d want to wish). The drinks were on the house at CT (despite the size) and bird as usual got sloshed and began to blab about mortality. Bird was in pain that night, his wisdom tooth was coming off (or going off track, which pretty much sums up why we so affectionately call him Bird). Bangd (who earlier in the day called me up to hitch CT’s phone number, to apparently book the place for the evening??#$ … now that’s a first!) seemed to think otherwise and kept referring to Bird’s tooth as Beak. We requested Bangd to slap himself hard and sanity prevailed that night.

(dab) dab (dab) …

During our conversation with Bird, he mentioned some strange curtailed facts. He lectured us on how a certain mortality defacto struck him when he hit upon an old school snap. His exact words then were “I saw the picture and suddenly realized that we are all mortals” and also went on to add, “I don’t remember my childhood man, not a bit”. This time round we did think of throwing the convenient anti-amnesia punch-on-head (soft portion = chota dimaag) but fortunately for him, didn’t. Come to think of it (we do this a lot now), it’s true isn’t it? We remember so little of our childhood and very soon will remember only a tiny few incidents of the time we’re letting go today.
I drabbed back into my old albums to leech a few of my bacha snaps. These snaps are my own gift to me this birthday.

it always starts with a smile ….

then there are times ….

and a true classic …

… and yes Bird , i don’t remember these either …. “God, please install more memory in my next life”

Don’t think I have much to say now … maybe mum’s whip will make me run on the treadmill (or atleast out of the house).

I’m ganja now … my folks refused to take me in last night, following this crude act of violence …

and no … won’t post pics till my “kesh” decides to grow up

till soon … or till the strands stride up …

“I have a shoe bite” essentially puts forth “I’ve bought new shoes and you better have a look”. It’s not quite the best of ways to have it broadcasted, I dare say. But certainly is one of the crude and dismantled ways of frolicking around your new shines.

I always wondered why the damn shoe bites you only on one leg. Its crazy, I’ve always had bites only directed to one of my feet, left or right, ankle or toe, front or back. It’s always just been one. Not that I’m complaining but hell yea, it would be fun to have both legs down with chronic pain (well not that bad).

The question here is, are the shoes (branded and f***** expensive shoes) poorly stitched/made with tasteless lack in symmetry and hence the bite? Or is it just me? I can see a hundred million fingers directed onward now.

Okay, so God (or my folks) had this planned. My feet (or parts of it, picked up conveniently) is non-symmetric. Why God? Why Mum/Dad?

Again … I need sleep … or maybe a band-aid