PS: I Still Love you

It was a usual office morning for Smriti but unlike other days, she was brimming with happiness today. It was her Husband’s 36th Birthday today. She looked at her watch, it was 11:30 AM. She took out her cell phone and dialed Wenger’s at Connaught place. “Hello…Can you please take an order for a Vanilla sponge cake”. “Sure Mam, Shall I make that 2 or 4 Pounds” asked the lady on the other side. “Make that 2 Pounds and do not forget to add chocolate hazelnut custard and Frangelico liqueur”, that’s my husband’s favorite” chirped Smriti. “Sure Mam” replied the lady from Wengers”. Post giving her details Smriti hung up and remembered how Sameer absolutely adored Vanilla sponge cake and the fights they had over having the last piece of it every time they got it. She had smile on her face when she recalled how Sameer used to slyly crawl out of bed at night to have his bite and would totally deny when asked about it next morning.

Lost in the thoughts, Smriti suddenly realized it was 12: 30 PM. She logged into facebook and went straight to Sameer’s profile and posted a nice birthday message!!! It was the Fifth one for the day. She was definitely one of those mushy-gushy lovers who wouldn’t lose any opportunity of showering her partner with sweet and silly nothings. She stared at Sameer’s profile picture for a while and realized how absolutely handsome he was and how much she loved him.

Sameer Dhingra, an affluent Delhi-ite went against his parents’ wishes and married Smriti Tewari, a small town girl from Lucknow, leaving him no choice but to exit his house.
It was at a college fest in Delhi University where they first met each other and cupid struck . Ever since, there was no stopping for them. They survived all the tests of time including a long distance relationship when Sameer went to London School of Economics for his masters and Smriti doing her MBA from Delhi University. That was also the time when Sameer’s elitist mother Rita tried to make Smriti realize how “different” their families were and how she would not do justice to this marriage in long run. Amidst all odds Sameer and Smriti got married in 2003 in the presence of Smriti’s parents and some friends. In spite of multiple failed attempts to make a place in the hearts of Sameer’s parents she never stopped trying. Just like every year, she had invited Rita and her husband knowing that they would not come again. Her chain of thoughts were broken by the goodbye’s of her colleagues who were now leaving for home as it was 6.

On her way back home Smriti picked up the cake from Wengers and drove straight to East of Kailash market where she picked all of Sameer’s favorite stuff including marshmallows, a Pinocchio hat ,chicken lasagna from Big Chill and a big bunch of carnations .She reached home by 7 PM . As the housekeeper Mira opened the door for her, “Mummaaaaaaa…..” yelled a little Samaira and jumped in her arms. Smriti kissed the forehead of her 5 year old daughter and asked her to quickly change and wear her pretty Cinderella frock. She then asked Mira to help her decorate the open terrace of her apartment with balloons and flowers. In another hours time a few close friends had gathered at her place in the terrace. After a round of conversations and usual chit chats Smriti called Samaira and asked her to cut the cake. Samaira took the knife in her little hands ,blew the candles and then looked hopefully at the large picture of Sameer and said “I love you Papa.. wish you were here”. As she cut the cake everyone started singing the birthday song for Sameer ..!! It started drizzling as Smriti kept looking at Sameer’s smiling face in the picture and whispered “Love u Forever Sameer “.

Sameer had been diagnosed of Huntington's Chorea , a rare brain disorder which had no cure and had no set timelines for its effects rendering it impossible to predict the patients life expectancy. Sameer passed away 4 years earlier, leaving Smriti and her one year old daughter alone. Smriti never stopped celebrating his birthdays just the way she used to earlier.

As Smriti was looking at Sameer’s picture she was startled by a gentle touch on her shoulders. She turned back and to her extreme surprise stood Rita with tears in her eyes. Smriti immediately bent down to take her blessings when Rita hugged her tightly and started crying. She kept saying “ I was wrong” as tears rolled down her cheeks. Rita had apparently just come to know that Sameer’s illness had been diagnosed 3 months before he got married –a secret that he shared only with Smriti.

Little Samaira Ran to Rita and gave her the Pinocchio hat as she looked at her Son’s Picture in utter despair.

How to insult Others

Insulting people is a deceptively simple act. Just as an artist can make drawing magnificent pictures look easy, a true master of the insult can make being unpleasant seem like a piece of cake. But the act of insulting people is far from simple, and that is where this simple guide will come in handy. If you read this page from top to bottom, and take note of everything it says, by the end you should be an accomplished insulter, and more than able to handle yourself in a protracted bout of insult-throwing.

STEP 1: THE BEGINNER

The main problem with beginners at this most difficult art is that they try to over-stretch themselves, and are then inevitably beaten back by a pro. They then give up, feeling bitter and lacking the confidence to try again.

To start off with, why not try some of these simple phrases? Practice in front of a mirror at first, so no-one can see if you make a mistake.

Good Phrases for beginners:

• You smell.
• You are fat.
• You have no friends.
• You are crap.

These are all known as "direct insults", as they insult the person you are refering to directly. The next stage for a beginner is to learn the more complex "indirect insults", which insult a person by making fun of their clothes, hair, taste in music, or mother.

Good Indirect Insults for beginners:

• Your clothes smell.
• Your mother is fat.
• Your family has no friends.
• Your hair (or taste in music) is crap.

STEP 2: THE INTERMEDIATE

Now that you have become proficient at using the "indirect" insult it is time for the next step. This involves combining two or more different insults together, into one, larger, insult which is scientifically proven to have more effect upon your target.

So, now you know the theory behind the "combo" (as it's more commonly known), how about learning some? Notice the "and" in the middle of each of these - this is what characterizes the "combo".

• You smell and your clothes are crap.
• Your mother is fat, and smells.
• Your hair is crap and you have no friends.
• Your face is ugly and so is your mother.

The second step of the intermediate course is learning to insult people with a "reason". This is the act of insulting someone, and then explaining the first insult with another. This is quite tricky, but tries some of these and before you know it you'll be a fully-fledged intermediate insulter. Like the "combo" these have a tell-tale sign, and that is the "because" which is in the middle of each sentence.

• Your clothes are crap because your family smells.
• Your taste in music is rubbish because you are crap.
• You have no friends because your mother is fat.
• Your hair is rubbish because your face is ugly.

You are now ready to start learning the ways of the most insulting of the insulters, the Professional. It is not an easy position to attain, and you must be prepared to spend many nights of sweat learning new and more impressive insults. The main difficulty with being a pro is that there are no set categories of insult to use (this is the easiest way to spot a pro - if they use insults you've never heard of before).

Sample professional insults are as follows:

• Hey butt-head, your mother is a fat cow.
• You eat rancid dog-dicks, fat boy.
• Who ate all the pies? (Should only be used on fat people)
• Oy, wanker! (Appears to be a beginner's insult, but is far more impressive and masterful than it seems)

So, practice lots, and start making up your own insults based on those shown above, and in no time at all you too will be a professional insulter.

STEP 3: THE PROFESSIONAL

You are now ready to start learning the ways of the most insulting of the insulters, the Professional. It is not an easy position to attain, and you must be prepared to spend many nights of sweat learning new and more impressive insults. The main difficulty with being a pro is that there are no set categories of insult to use (this is the easiest way to spot a pro - if they use insults you've never heard of before).

Sample professional insults are as follows:

• Hey butt-head, your mother is a fat cow.
• You eat rancid dog-dicks, fat boy.
• Who ate all the Bananas? (Should only be used on fat people)
• Oy, Chutiye (Appears to be a beginner's insult, but is far more impressive and masterful than it seems)

So, practice lots, and start making up your own insults based on those shown above, and in no time at all you too will be a professional insulter.

( Inspired By The TIGU)

Blistered Beau

Buzzzz..Ringgggggggg....buzzzzzzzz..Ringgg....The buzz made Raaghav jumped out of the bed as if there was some earthquake. It din’t take Raaghav much time to figure out that it was his phone ringing which was placed in his ears while he was sleeping. He took a look at the screen and there was a sudden chill in his spine. His eyes were horror stricken. He pressed the green button of his mobile and somehow managed to say" Hhhhhello”. "What did I say" shouted an angry voice from the other side...before Raaghav could reply any thing, it shot off with double the intensity again" I asked what did I say"?? Raaghav had nothing to say. He had apparently fallen asleep while talking to his girl friend Neha and now she was interrogating him on what she had told all the while he was asleep.

"The sound was not clear jaan” said Raaghav in his defense.

"Why weren’t you replying"? Tell me were you asleep or not" shouted Neha

"No jaan can I ever do that when I am talking to you?” said the not so confident Raaghav.

‘Wait till I see you tomorrow then you shall see” threatened a furious Neha and banged the phone.
Raaghav was bewildered. He dint know what to do. What he only knew was Neha’s fury which if unleashed could have caused massive destruction. He kept wondering what shall Neha do tomorrow and could not sleep the entire night. Neha’s fear was haunting Raaghav. Next morning Raaghav could wait no more. He knew that in such circumstances the only friend who could help him was his roomie Sandeep. Sandeep was a expert in handling love affairs. He was famous for playing the cupid in many relationships and he himself had an experiance of 5 relationships. Currently he was dating two females. He had his famous dialogue which shot him to fame " dilo ka mel karane ka aanand hi kucch aur hai". Raaghav had always looked up to Sandeep for his relationship (with girls) handling skills. He never seemed to have a fight with his girlfriends and all of them listened to him. The next morning without wasting any time Raaghav woke up Sandeep" Abe uth!!! Help me out". In one breath Raaghav explained his entire problem to Sandeep.


“That’s it, only this problem" Sandeep replied a relaxed voice.

“You are dumbo and a faintheart. You get perturbed by such non issues".

“Please help me bhai” You know Neha's temper" pleaded an aghast Raaghav.

" You know what your problem is Raaghav" ? You are a coward ...a loser...never bow down in front of a girl. Always remember you are the man in the relationship. You need to dominate. You can’t be lily-livered. You have to show your girl what you are capable of and yes, always remember you are a man and you have balls. Where the hell is you ego man???” shouted an all confidant Sandeep as if he was giving some patriotic speech" "Go and show Neha that you are not sissy. Tell her clearly that she can’t question you and you shall not take the shit from her any more. If you can do that you succeed in your relationship” said Sandeep as he sped to the loo for attending Nature’s call.

Suddenly Raaghav was full of aplomb. He was feeling a true man. Sandeep’s chalk talk on morality in a relationship had worked. “Yes man I shall show it to her today" .She can’t treat me as a doormat" exclaimed Raaghav with insistence.

Raaghav called up Neha immediately as if he was going to denounce her. Neha disconnected the call as she was sleepy at that time. It took Raaghav 18 calls and three hours to make Neha pick up her call. “Why the hell are you bugging me in these early hours" shouted Neha. “I want to meet you now" said an all courageous Raaghav. “Have you lost it its 10: 30 am in the morning and I shall not go out in this heat. Come to my place at 5 in the evening” said Neha and hung up the call flat on Raaghav’s face. Raaghav had no choice but to wait till 5 in the evening.

Raaghav pondered how he shall denounce Neha in the evening. He saw Neha begging for mercy and apologizing him for her bad behavior. Raaghav’s thoughts were interrupted by the alarm. He looked at his watch. It was 4:30 PM. Raaghav got ready and left for Neha’s PG which was a couple of kilometers from his hostel. He was all determined to thrash Neha today. After all he was the man in the relationship. Raaghav reached sharp at 5.

Neha was looking her usual pretty self. But there were no smiles or happy gestures on her face when she saw Raaghav. Before Raaghav could say a word Neha shouted" How dare you sleep last night. We were discussing our dream home." Raaghav did not get perturbed by her cacophony and he darted back " How dare you shout at me? Always remember I am the man, you shall follow my orders and never dare to question my deeds. You are lucky enough to have me as your guy. I shall not tolerate any more shit from you. If you want to stay in this relationship you have to be submissive".

Raaghav felt proud of himself after saying this short speech. He was anxiously anticipating fear in Neha's eyes and the mercy plea from her mouth. The next moment he felt a thunder and a sharp pain in his cheeks. It happened Twice. Neha's slapped Raaghav twice in both his cheeks. “Get lost you Fucking fool and dare you come to meet me again " roared Neha as she darted inside her PG. Raaghav’s plan had failed. He cursed his friend Sandeep for his ideas and walked off the lonely road thinking of ways to apologize Neha.

Barbaric Barbasol !!!

I have always had this penchant for good perfumes, colognes and other accessories. Other than a decent collection of perfumes, I also had quite a few brands of shaving foams as well. Being in a B-school then and that too staying in a boy’s hostel my wardrobe was always in demand. Every day someone or the other would come to use these for impressing their dates. I dint mind it at all because I used to get a chance to flaunt my stuff especially when one knows that they are better than your peers.

It was the alumni meet of year 2007 in Our B-school and me being a member of the alumni team was getting all decked up in the evening. All the Alumni team members for that matter were trying to look their best by wearing their best suits and ties.( As if some alumni would come up to us and say" Boy You are looking stunning, what about a job with E&Y as the CEO of the company". Wishful thinking indeed!! But nevertheless it didn’t stop us from looking our best.

Sandeep Balan, my roomie, was not in his usual vivacious self that evening. It was sizably evident that he want appeased at all as he wasn’t in the alumni team and was not invited for the alumni meet (only junior alumni team members were allowed). A twitch in his eyebrows every now and then were insinuating towards a massive counter blow. I looked at the watch; it was Thirty minutes past six. I thanked god that I was ready in time and would reach college by 7pm.I knew there would be a rush of other hostelers of the alumni team coming to my room asking for deo’s and perfumes which I would proudly share with them after telling a story of how expensive it was and how I bought it. I loved the expression in their face when they said "mast hai bhai" without even ever hearing the name of the brand in their years of existence.


I finally decided to wear my tie and was tying the Knot when I heard a knock in the door. I asked Sandeep"Abe dekh kaun hai yaar"(Look who's there). He opened the door “Abe Tj yaar perfume dena” shouted an all wet Rahul who was already late and just came out of the Loo after taking a bath. His shirt was still unbuttoned. I was about to proceed towards my almirah to expose my precious collection when suddenly Sandeep interrupted “Let me attend bhai". I was struggling with the knot myself hence agreed to him. "Which one do u want Rahul Bhai", we have the best stuff in our room”? asked Sandeep with an evil grin. "Koi bhi chalega"(any one would do) replied the innocent Rahul for whom what mattered was ‘not smelling bad’ rather than smelling good. Sandeep was more than happy and opened my Almirah and took out a Bottle and gave it to him. Before I could have interrupted Rahul hastily lifted his hands and sprayed it in his underarms as if it was for free and he would never get it again.... phissssssssssssssssssssssss went the bottle. The very next moment a horror stricken Rahul stood with his hands up looking at Sandeep with a murderous look. Sandeep had given him a bottle of Barbasol ( A shaving foam) instead of a perfume. White foam was slowly falling down from Rahul’s underarms as his whole shirt was spoiled. Sandeep looked at me with a gleeful face. I looked towards the ceiling fan as if I never knew anything. Rahul looked at both of us and went out abusing .No one else ever came to our room after that day asking for perfume.

An Emotive Episode

Delhi is a strange city. What astonishes me most is the co-existence of extremes in the city. Staying into the city for the last 8 years and almost in every corner, I have seen a greater part of it. And before writing any thing more I must specify that I love the city. The city is often considered having lot of discourteous junta. Be it a 'thulla' or the 'sabzi waale bhaiya’, most of them at times can be a bit surly. A most common incident which can be spotted every now and then is a scuffle happening in the roads between two accident prone car owners each blaming the other and threatening to show their power and 'pehchaan' in Delhi. The winner having more 'pehchaan' and higher degrees of profanity manages to extort money from the other for the damage.

It was a Thursday night, just a couple of days before I was shifting to Kolkata. My sister has come to my place for helping me with my packing ('Helping' here is an understatement, she accomplished it.). Post our dinner, I planned to go take my sister out for a drive. "Let’s have ‘chusk’ at India Gate!!" exclaimed Didi. Not having much of an option at night we went for it. The weather outside was amazing. I turned on my car stereo and started playing the song 'dhan ta nan' from a latest flick. I saw myself dancing in a club with pretty girls flocking around, just to get a chance to dance with me. "Pikuuuuuuuuuuuu"...Banggggggggg!!!!! I heard two sounds!! the former was my sister shouting and the latter was from a non symmetrical indica in front of me. I din’t take much time to figure out that I had crashed into an Indica. I hadn’t even got down of my car when I saw this sturdy looking guy coming out of that indica shouting at me." Baawla ho gya hai ke Behn #$%@@#$%”!!( Are you fuckin crazy) he shouted in a haryanvi accent. I got down thinking of various ways to handle him. "Ruk saale abhi Madam ko bulata hoon"(Wait till I call my mistress as in the owner and not the other one) he shouted. Next I saw was this middle aged, pretty looking, well dressed lady coming out of a Honda City which was standing just ahead of the Indica. " Saale ne peeche se thok di"!!(He hit from the Back) exclaimed the angry driver. The lady came and looked towards the boot of the car which was completely wrecked. Knowing Delhites I expected her to ask for damages and me and not having much to argue I apologized to her and said " Ma’am its my fault and am ready to pay whatever you demand" . She replied in very calm and composed manner “Son its Ok!! Just be careful when u drive in traffic". Then she sat in her car and drove away. I looked at the mangled bonnet of my car. The ladies benevolence overshadowed the probable excruciating pain of the disfigured new car.