Karvachauth – The traditions of India

I have always felt absorbed by the traditions of Hinduism. The option of picking and choosing from thousands of Gods (each one with his/her own quirks and characterizations), rituals and occasions (pick a day of the week and there will be some God you can please), idols etc. as per one’s comfort and convenience. It is such a far cry from the rigidity and lack of humor in Abrahamic religions.

Every ritual, every occasion has a story behind it. A story, not just a brief paragraph but entire storylines with plots, subplots, suspense and climax. The sheer volume of entwined story lines and characters can overwhelm the mind if collated together. But the importance of these occasions is above the storylines. Each occasion has a functional reason for existence, a moral or lesson that may be losing relevance in the modern world but is still a nice bit of info to have.

Let us take the occasion of Karvachauth for example. The origin is said to be a bonding session between the wife and her in-laws a few days before the harvest celebrations while the corresponding stories include queens turned maids and dead kings coming back to life. But let us try to find the underlying reason for ladies fasting all day for the well-being of their husbands.

Let us consider the habits and lifestyle of the well to do upper class ladies of the olden days. With servants to do the hard labor and luxuries aplenty to indulge in, these ladies would have had a life lacking in exercise or exertion. Customs those days would not have been too conducive to married ladies hiking across the country or hiring personal trainers for aerobic sessions. Thus they would have consistently increased in weight and correspondingly decreased in health after marriage. If with all equipment, medicines and infinite dieting plans, the wives in modern India barely manage to maintain weight, we should not be expecting too much from ancient ladies.

We can safely suppose that whatever be the era or the environment, the basic tenets of a woman’s thinking have not undergone any change. Thus reactions, especially illogical and emotion driven ones can be expected to be the same. So coming back to the ladies of ancient India, they cannot be realistically expected to be too happy with their husbands telling them to eat less, or exercise more or that they have become fat. The relation between a woman’s mood and what she sees in the mirror must have been just as complex then as it is today. Imagine the powerful landlord coming home after a long day and having to listen to the whole “aap mujhse ab pyaar nahi karte” symphony.

Men being men would have given up pretty quickly and started searching for alternate solutions to this problem. The way to get a woman to do something without taking offence can be broken down into a few key points – Display of love, integration into their beliefs and loads of attention. Thus some brilliant person (helped that most brilliant people of that era were priests or saints) designed the perfect ritual (dieting plan) for the homely wife – fasting for the well-being of the husband (display of love), done to please the Gods (integration into beliefs) and garner attention (the husband has to be back home in time with the moon).

Now this is something a lady can happily execute, integrate it with their festivals and occasions, convert it to group bonding (or bitching) sessions, go shopping and get all decked up, and all for the betterment of their husband.

The men are just as happy. Their wives have had a day of fasting, of a little less calories and a little more exercise and they are happy about it also.

Thus the story of Karvachauth. Happy Karwachauth. It remains just as relevant even today!

A note of Thanks - MS Dhoni

Dear Indian Fan,

Firstly, thank you for the tremendous support that all of you have shown me and the team. Such strong support has been unprecedented for any losing captain. It was well worth the few tears I shed that memorable day.

Now I am back at home in Ranchi. Things remain the same but they have changed too.

Oh, my sweet little daughter. So innocent and pure. One day she will know that while she was taking in her first sights, her papa was just one “batsman who can handle a little pressure” short of reaching a World cup final. I must admit I am a little worried of her growing up and finding out about the “Media”, be it social, anti-social, mass, niche or whatever.

My wife has completely refused to come to any match that I play in from now on unless I give an absolute guarantee I will not get out. Explaining to her that I am no Kohli and am allowed to fail once in a while with the bat has not helped. She has been spending too much time on twitter I guess. Must be the pregnancy. Anyways it’s a good decision on her part. My little daughter might be saved from a few bad habits.

My three dogs that used to bite and bark at me whether I win or lose have mellowed down. It seems they have sensed that India can be a dangerous place for dogs that bark for no rhyme or reason, especially on TV. Some dogs do listen to public opinion it seems.

My father-in-law wants to know when I will retire. When I asked him what he would prefer, he was silent. He is a true cricket fan, will wait for the announcement to support the exact opposite. I tried telling him that I am only 33 but he made it sound like I am 55.

My mechanic is sure that I would have won India the match if I had not gotten run-out. But then, he is also sure that Kohli’s problem is his girlfriend and Raina’s problem is the lack of a girlfriend. Go figure.

It’s such a relief to be around my bikes. Luckily for my security detail I live in Ranchi. Here their Bajaj Pulsars can keep up with my Harleys due to the condition of the roads. Life is a great leveler.

That’s all folks. I shall post a tweet or two soon just to make sure the fire keeps burning.

Thank you once again.   

I hate Pimples!

Always wanted to write something putting myself in a girls designer shoes. This is me thinking like a girl, trying to be as real as I can make it, watering down my multiple perceptions on how impossible they really can be. As you all know, they are not supposed to be understood....
Here goes.


It was a normal day’s morning. I woke up late, my hair was as much of a mess as ever and I was sure to be late for office. Had slept late and so my head felt groggy. It took me two peeks at the mirror to notice it.

Have you even seen one of those optical illusions where you notice nothing at first but then once you see it, it stands out and seems to be jumping into your eyes. Well it was the same feeling. But this was no image, it was my own reflection and the thing jumping out at me was my biggest fear, my most hated disease; a big, red, juicy, throbbing PIMPLE!

In one second, in the mirror, my whole life flashed in front of me. I have had just three pimples before this, but all of them were just as big and bad and all seem to come up only on my forehead, standing out like flashing red lights on white ambassador cars. The first time, I did not worry too much until my friends started staring at me as I I just grew a pair of horns. I was just in high school and my girl pack spent the next twenty minutes telling stories of their aunts or neighbors with pockmarked faces who never get a second glance. I had nightmares that day though mom told me it was normal.

That experience scarred me for life. That along with other girls my age who were just as terror struck. “I just broke a pimple”, “I got two together, twoooo!”, “that mark is still visible, will it ever go??” were call signs to days of chronic depression and zero self esteem. The other two times I had a pimple before, my support systems used to be cosmetics, skin creams and hours of shedding tears in front of the mirror. It did not matter if they covered the pimples, they were there to cover my torn self esteem.

But now I am a little grown up. At least I like to think that way. I do not have the time to spend hours crying in front of the mirror. I have half an hour to drag my sorry face to office and I cannot spend it crying. Though I can feel my eyes welling up, I also have to make my hair and select my clothes. Do I not have a single suit that matches with a big red pimple? I could so easily sit here and cry.

But as I said, I have grown up a little. Having a pimple and a job seemed better than having a pimple and no job. So a little makeup, a regular red suit and off I was to office. I was late anyway so I took the time to go to the shop nearby and buy myself a new face-wash. My old face-wash had cheated me, betrayed my trust and given me a pimple; I shall never touch it ever again. Seeing myself in the shop mirror depressed me again but the cosmetics and face-wash section got my spirits up again. One thing a girl never loses confidence in is cosmetics and beauty care products. If one fails, there is always another, with an even more perfect celebrity endorsing it. And they do work, no matter every guy gets a shock seeing my collection of beauty products. Some work better than others.

Mom used to tell me, just make sure your face is clean and not oily. So I keep washing my face. I just bought myself a new face-wash, and that’s something I can use all day. It stays in my handbag and I make sure that every time I walk into a ladies room, I give my face a gentle cleansing. It refreshes my face and my confidence. I work hard all day, at least my face gets its share of freshness. The pimple doesn't bother me as much now that I know I am treating it well.

It will be gone in a few days, and I shall once have more time to select the perfect suit and put on the perfect eyeliner without my eyes welling up. And I intend to make sure it never comes back. My new face-wash is going to be my personal bodyguard against it happening ever again. I feel so much better already.



Written for Garnier.
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Broken Dreams with a Brilliant Tab!!

I looked forward to my first tab like I might look forward to my first wife.
Now your mobile might be your girlfriend, you do not mind changing it, options available are numerous as long as all basic functionalities remain. Your laptop is your best friend, you do not notice the better versions until this one stops performing. But you tab is like your wife, simply because there are just not many options available at reasonable price to be your girlfriend, and it just hasn’t been around long enough to be your best friend.
So I decided to buy a tab. To be mine and only mine, to spend time with me, to put me to sleep showing me a movie or scrolling through a book for me. To expand my energy, to play the High Definition games or browse through the Heavy Duty websites. To come home to after a hard day in college. How glorious it seemed.
After months collecting the money and days torturing the website to deliver on time, at last the tab was mine. At last my big fat wedding was over. The first night was beautiful. It was mine, mine only. It responded to my every touch, was excellent in any position, gave me options no phone ever could, had unmatched performance and unreal possibilities. We were supposed to be together happily ever after.
“Dude, let me check it out, haven’t used a tab before”
“Man, the games are awesome I am sure, let me play just one game.”
“Why don’t we all just watch a movie together on it.”
Some things are just not meant to be. In a Men’s hostel, most things are not meant to be. It’s no place to bring your wife. Everybody wanted a piece of my tab.
“My phone is not big enough to play properly, hand it over for a sec.”
“That video, I need to show it to someone. Be back in a minute.”
If one could run a kilometer on Temple Run, there was always someone to try and run a few meters more. It someone found watching YouTube on it cool, somebody had to watch an HD movie on it. If it was somebody’s newspaper, it would become somebody else’s chess board in a minute.
“Hey it’s yours anyway, let me use it for a few hours.”
“Oh, you will be sleeping soon, will return it tomorrow.”
“Dude, that lecture is going to be boring. Am taking the tab to pass the time.”
In a few months my wife was no longer mine. It was just too adaptable, too functional to remain chained to one man. That unlucky man was me. Soon I never came to know where it spent the night. Soon it was leaving my side without me even knowing. Soon I could sleep with it besides me and wake up with it gone. It was maybe just too good for me.
Today it has seen it all. From my intense possessiveness to a mob’s violent sharing. But it goes on, pleasing anyone who touches it. Today that which was meant for my personal touch is found in different hands every day. Sleeps somewhere and wakes up somewhere else.
“Man, we would have been so bored without your tab.”
“The time we spend fighting for the tab. Awesome fun…”
“That’s some excellent technology there. Made just for us!!”
It was just not meant to be. Me and my tab in a college hostel. It was one failed marriage but life goes on. I would not replace it for anything else.

Post written for contest on www.indiblogger.com

All entries must have a link to facebook.com/LenovoIndia it seems....

The Prime Minister needs a job…

Not many people at the non descript pub in central Delhi noticed the old sardar sitting in the corner and quietly sipping some Italian wine. But this correspondent with a keen eye for detail recognized him instantly and went up to him to have a conversation. He was none other than Dr Manmohan Singh, the Prime Minister of our country.
“Good Evening sir, may I join you.”
[silence] (Confirmation that it is indeed Dr Singh.)
“Sir, what are you doing sitting here alone in this place without any of your security detail or party colleagues? Is something wrong?” [silence again]
I had to try a different tack.
“Sir, what do you have to say about the latest scam that has hit your party?”
At the word scam Dr Singh automatically sat upright and noticed me. In a voice sounding more like a recording, he broke his silence. “I was not aware of what was going on. I am not involved in any way. There is no need for me to resign.”

“Sir, I do not want you to resign. Can we just talk for sometime?”

“You don’t!! Well then, okay. Sit down.”

“But what about your security detail? How did you manage to evade them and come here?”

“Oh, that’s easier than you think. All I had to do was smile at them on the way out. They instantly thought it was some nephew of mine and let me leave. They haven’t seen me smile for 9 years you know. Even the auto driver was getting suspicious but I simply started talking to him. Even he knows that the PM of India doesn’t speak.”

“But won’t they question you when you get back?”

Dr Singh actually had a smirk on his face.

“Son, you underestimate me. Let them question. I will just keep silent. I might even tell them ‘I was not aware of what was going on. I am not involved in any way. There is no need for me to resign.’”

“But Sir…”
“Don’t worry young man. I barely recognize myself when I speak. Leave alone anyone else”

“But what are you doing here sir?”

“Oh I needed a quite place to ponder over some matters of grave importance.”

“The state of the country?”

“No, something more important. I was considering my employment options next year when I am dismissed from my current job. Surely you don’t think the Congress has any work for me when out of power?”

“No, but why don’t you retire and spend time relaxing at home?”

“What do you think I have been doing for nine years! A sardar gets bored being silent.”

“But sir, you are an eminent economist. You are supposed to have the best CV in India.”

“Yeah, but every employer will give maximum weightage to the last job. Even Einstein won’t be able to justify that. There are just no jobs matching my skill sets anymore. What a waste of all that studying and research. In fact, you know I googled my name just to check. The fact that I am an economist appears on the 13th page. I almost cried.”

“But surely there will be lots of options for you.”
“Where are the options? Even Big Boss refuses to have me on their show. Serials refuse to give me a role even though I can waste years for them. My agent tells me advertisers want moving actors and not posters anymore. The silent monks of Thailand, the ones in the Hangover movie did invite me, but they expect me to shave my hair.”

“Why don’t you start something on your own?”

“Oh I have exhausted all my ideas teaching that good for nothing Robert Vadra how to make money. I did think of buying an IPL team, but then my contract with the Congress does not allow me to invest my money back in India. Football is too violent for me, or else there were a few Italian football teams up for sale. In fact the best offer I got was from the Indian Association of the Deaf-Mute as president and CEO but when I asked about the money they refused to hear or speak.”

“But sir, you do have a lot of money.”

“Did you just say money? I repeat ‘I was not aware of what was going on. I am not involved in any way. There is no need for me to resign.’”

“That is okay sir. It has been a pleasure talking to you. I hope we will meet again the same way. By the way, do you mind if I publish
this conversation.”

Dr Singh guffaws loudly. He is genuinely laughing now.

“Son, go ahead and publish all you want. Nobody will believe I spoke so much and for so long. If anyone does care, I will just tell them that ‘I was not aware of what was going on. I am not involved in any way.

Gayle to retire from IPL, to enter Indian politics.

In an exclusive interview with me at the Kingfisher Club, Bangalore, Chris Gayle made the shocking announcement that he is going to retire from the RCB with immediate effect and join the Congress party. Mr Gayle was completely lucid and even counted till 180 in multiples of 6 to prove the point.

True to his newly found calling, Mr Gayle patiently replied to every question I could come up with.

Why this sudden decision and what are the reasons for it?

Mr Gayle: This decision is by no means sudden. I have been pondering over it for a month now. It has been occupying my mind every time I hit a ball in the air and it takes ages to come back down. So I have had a lot of time to think about it for the last one week. Politics looks to me a natural career progression for someone in India who is famous. Though Bollywood was tempting, even John Abraham these days is trying to learn how to cry. Which is impossible for me. So I chose politics. Politics will provide me the adulation, the money and most importantly give me something to laugh about every night when I come back home.

But why now?

Mr Gayle: Seeing the number of seats a political rally in Bangalore can fill and the number of seats I can fill at the Chinnaswami, I believe this was the right time to join the fray. I believe I can save the Congress who is trying its best to lose from a winning position here in Karnataka. Maybe my only chance of a victory in the next few years. I had to seize the moment.

And also that young creep Virat was getting on my nerves. Before he pisses me off too much by swearing at me and I lose my Indian fan base by banging up the future Indian captain, I felt it was time to move on.

But why the Congress?

Mr Gayle: Once one has chosen a career path, the next important thing is find the right employer. For a beginner in this field, the Congress policy of a complete lack of policy seems the easiest way to begin. Also the pressure of performance is non existent, even frowned upon. After having to single handedly carry a team and its overweight boss on my broad shoulders, it is a welcome relief.

But what about the Modi phenomenon?

Mr Gayle: As I was saying, by joining the Congress I am under no pressure to go head to head with a leader of that stature. They have Rahul for that. That is, unless they decide to get rid of Mr Vadra and I change my name to Mr Gayle Gandhi. I can easily remain happy making the odd thousand crores here and there while Mr Modi tries to change the country.

How do you think you will manage working under Rahul Gandhi?

Mr Gayle: I believe taking orders from Siddharth Mallya for four years is sufficient experience to tackle the Gandhi scion. Also he had a Columbian girlfriend. I can relate to that.

But what will you do if you lose the next election?

Mr Gayle: Oh I believe I can keep myself occupied by being the official bouncer for the opposition in parliament. It would be just as interesting as hitting Indian medium pacers out of the Chinnaswami. Also I could use my accent to good use as an official spokesperson. They are not supposed to be understood, I believe.

Mr Gayle, where do you see yourself ten years down the line?

Mr Gayle: That is the beauty of the Congress party and another reason why I chose them. Depending on one’s likes and dislikes, there is a role for everyone in the Congress. If I choose to shoot my mouth off, I could be the foreign or the law minister. If I want to be clever and make some good money, I could end up as the finance or telecom minister. If I can stay silent and show no emotion at all, I could be the prime minister of India in no time. The opportunities are endless. Even if I do absolutely nothing, I am at least sure to end up as a Governor or maybe even the President. What else can one ask for?

So, do you not see any loss in this decision you have taken?

Mr Gayle: You mean, the booze, the cheerleaders, and Priyanka Chopra? I think I will manage. Booze and cheergirls I heard are part of politics too these days. As for Priyanka, in true Indian spirit, I intend to keep my personal life personal.

Thank you, Mr Gayle, for being so forthcoming. I am sure the Indian public is looking forward to Chris Gayle, the politician.

Mr Gayle: Cheers!



After such an enlightening interview, Chris Gayle left no doubt that he had taken a very logical and well thought out decision. If only we had more people like him coming forward to lead our country, our country could still save itself from the political bedlam that we have today.

Rise up and Revolt!!

I am pissed off. Terribly royally pissed off. I stood by and watched when they destroyed it one by one. But now I am stronger. I can take it no more....
Their first attack was on the mouse. That cute little thing with big ears that Tom used to catch called Jerry. They took it and replaced it with a plastic blob with two buttons. Could have called it a rat, couldnt they. But I forgave them. Atleast they didnt call a keyboard a cat....
And they came that man Mr Gates. I bet he was tortured as a kid for his surname. Else why would he call that bland program Windows. Its supposed to let in fresh air, with beautiful hilltops in the background. Not error messages and black screens. Not fair....
The guts of these men. Did Edison call his light bulb a sun, or Marconi call his telephone a mouth. They knew how to respect a language. Not these computer freaks. And we the common man got too dazzled with the technology to care. And look where we ended up. A net no longer catches fish, spiders have lost ownership of the web, a tablet no longer cures you and soon a cloud will no longer cause any rainfall. And still nobody cares....
This lament will not be complete without alluding to one man. One Mr Jobs. The sadist stole from us the one thing that kept the doctor away. At least the blackberry is black. The apple neither red nor green is white. Heights I say....
But why this sudden revolt, this outburst of anger you may ask. Well not to be undone by the other big guns, Google has decieded to take away from us the one thing we thought would always be safe. ICECREAM. A tear in my eye. This is our last chance I say. Rise up and revolt....
Before it is too late....

Ten important lessons for wannabe commentators in IPL.

Ten important lessons for wannabe commentators in IPL.

1. Any batsman who comes out to bat has excellent potential when he comes out to bat and is in form when he hits his first boundary.

2. If you were born in Australia you can hit the ball a long way, unless your name is Doug Bollinger.

3. If you dive and half stop the ball, it's bad fielding. If you let it go, it's a good shot.

4. If you can run two, you are quick between the wickets, even if you are VVS Laxman.

5. Ultra Slowmotion Cameras are the greatest invention in cricket after round balls.

6. If the batsman misses the ball its either a slower ball or a quicker delivery depending on where the keeper gathers it.

7. There are always big hitters to come in the pavilion.

8. Any new player coming into the team  lends balance to the side, evening if he is only there because someone else has the loosies.

9. The same ball used in 50 over cricket ages faster and becomes an old ball in ten overs.

10. During a rain delay, it's a wonderful surprise than the crowd waits patiently after paying all that money to be there.

These basic laws and the ability to read the numbers at the bottom of the screen are about all you need to be a successful IPL commentator. The ability to keep a straight face to Sidhu's jokes is an added bonus.
So go on. There is a rich and successful career waiting for you.



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