Ratman Returns

I had to pay for my Chivas.
By being a Rat Buster at Mr. Hmms house.
Being tormented by the rodent, for over a few a days, guess, he had the game prepared for me, sticks, batons and slippers in hand, with occasional sips of the American potent, we cornered the guy ( we found his penis) after much sweat and toil, battle lines carefully drawn at the tick of the midnight. Lord Gaanesha's Vehicle was run down, packed in a poly bag and into the dustbin.

Mr. Hmmm must have thought that, that the Man from Bihar, is a proven rodent Buster as BBC did a story on a Rat eating community in Bihar, and thus that label by default applies to all of Bihari's.
I at least proved a point till catching it, serving it on a platter, was surely not expected.

Batman- just got better-the dark knight-must see movie -underlying story-
"You know the thing about chaos? It's fair."
-"believe…whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you…stranger."
-"When the chips are down, these, uh…civilized people, they'll eat each other.
-"The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you…the dawn is coming."

Enjoy..till I savour my Chivas.

I told You So

PPPHHUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAPH
Did you hear the conch?
Shankh Naad?

Bihar CM says “this is parlay (end of the world)”
Nothing like this has ever been seen before.
Every one wants to go meet the PM,
He must be a really good swimmer, to save millions from drowning, guess they saw him sailing thru just some time back.
Hey get Mulayam and Amar, they serve as good rafts.

Laloo ji boley,
Array, if it won’t flood now, when it will flood,
Anyway, this is Ganga water, it will purify everyone.

Media has finally woken up,
International agencies will get to use their funds now.
Blow your guts out.

I am blowing mine.
I told you so.

Bachnaa Aye Hasino

Not so Bad...the best looking face in the movie was, Ranbir Kapoor's. Bips was fit and hot, dips was girl next door and minisha whoever was just out of the air-hostess academy.
The movie does break some molds.
One does not have to get married to be in love, infact -mairrage only screws up things, as far as love is concerned. It might be a solution to other commitments in life.

But Love is Love...
its different..like the sauces we make..
like a sleepy blue ocean,
like a storm in a dessert,
like a mountain in spring time,
like a night in a forest.

its all about giving, your self,
mairrage on the contrary is about ownerships,
atleast percieved to be, just the opposite of love.

But is it ok to have a life without Romance,
lack of it makes life so mundane and miserable,
lacking human essence, smile, will to go an extra mile,
a little deffect or rather a deviance in the mind is essential,
to make you a man from a monkey.

Home Ward Bound

I am standing at the railway station, waiting for my destination…
Home ward bound…yes I am…home ward bound.

I am at the Hashimara Railway station,
A small Kasbah, a military base, around 15 kms from the Bhutan border.
Sprawling tea gardens all around, mountains in the backdrop.
Close by there is Jaldapara wildlife sanctuary, famous for Rhino’s.
Though quite amusing, but the Toorsa’s subsidiary river beds are completely dry.
I think they are storing all the water for the new hydel project at Bhutan.
It’s a nice place.

It has been quite a day, yesterday.
After spending last day at the mercy of Indian Railways and Commmies of India,
I had to spend the night at NJP, all night being pestered with “sir ladki chahiya kya”
I took a bus to Jaigaon, border town to Bhutan.

Initially I wanted to take a cab, but it was costing me a fortune, knowing it would be wasted trip in business terms, I avoided it.
The best part was the bus trip.
Small bus, 40 seater, out of which 32 were lady passengers.
11 Bhutanese, modern in dress sense to the core,
6 Indian hard working Bengali women,
Rest family types.
I took the last middle seat, as my knees were rubbing on the front seat of all other seats.
2 Bhutanese on the left and 2 on the right, four on the seats right ahead of me,
The Bengali women ahead, with sacks full of probably beetle nut, lay on the floor.

Eastern Indian Societies are women centric,
Kali worshippers, as Churchill said,
Dusky Indian women with firm heaving breast and lashing tongue,
But unlike thagi, here was pure business and human effort at par.

Like in Bengal, in Bhutan too women do all the work and men just drink or disrupt work.
Bhutanese though do have hangover of ethnicity, but in attire they would shame a similar Indian.
Wearing, light low jeans and t-shirt,
Usually commercial and ethnic proximity to china has molded them.

They are pretty, and all assets are firm, unlike their Indian counterparts,
Holter bras and Hilfiger jeans, digging into their torsos,
English is bad, but can speak Hindi, Bengali and Nepalese,
Chinese i-pods and gum chewing women, who don’t care if you are leching at their curves,.

Indians are sweating their guts off, pulling on the sacks and still managing to save their cleavages from prying eyes.
32 women, probable odds that more than one of them is having periods,
Smell mixed with that of sweat is a turnoff.

My ass is grass, sitting on the near rock surface for 5 hours.
Only solace was a continuous squeeze between two separate thighs, and some occasional brush of breast and bare arms on my shoulders.
I am a dog.

About Work.

I had somehow known about it,
But did not have much of a choice,
I had to make this trip,
This state of the art Factory was closed,
Directors were sitting in Thimphu,
Their spare parts from Sweden were awaited, and due to massive land slide, the roads were closed.
So this relay race one leg gets over here, and I have to come back next month.

One thing that will change me from yesterday’s experience will be my planning of life.

I checked into a hotel, usually they do not ask for the deposit from me, as they all know me. This time there was a new staff, and so he asked for it. I checked into my wallet and handed over some cash, It was a little short, so I walked to to the nearby ATM, to withdraw cash.
To my astonishment, I was not carrying any card or extra cash,
I just could not help laughing on myself,
There was absolutely no chance that I could get any help here.

Nearest help was in NJP, 5 hrs away,
I called up my supplier, who managed to find someone who would send me some cash.
Later at the hotel, the guys were really helpful as they heard my conversation over the phone.
They discounted the room rent by 40% and returned the money.
Took me on a motor bike to get to my source for money.

Initially I thought it would be a wasted trip, if I was unable to go to Chimee Wangmo’s Bar,
But then I did,
And the evening was good,
She recognizes me after all these days,
Knows what I drink and changed the music for me,
Highland whiskey and pork fry.
Listening to Bryan Adams and Eagles.
Come democracy and booze is expensive, roads are bad, and official certificates on the wall.
Indian border town does not serve alcohol and Bhutan does not serve chicken, bird flu is not over as yet.

All’s well that ends well.
Now I am Home ward bound.

Blow your Conch

“Bheem Barrage Toot Gaya”

Its like the conch shell bugle for the beginning of Mahabharata, all the great warriors had one.
This one is for the beginning of floods in Bihar.
Nepal has opened the gates of all its barrages, water flowing from the great Himalayas, after satisfying the needs of Prachanda’s democracy, will come swiftly thru whole of north Bihar and would make haste approach to the Bay of Bengal.
Taking away enroute thousands of human lives and another couple of thousand lives of cattle’s, millions worth of human efforts will be washed away, like their sins, from a holy dip in the Ganga.
All water will assemble at the Farakka, waiting for government’s bureaucratic machinery to start taking permission from the Bangladesh government to release water. Till then North of Bihar will face a deluge. For next three months that will be.

As I travel from Katihar to Khagaria,
The sight out of the train window is beautiful.

Water spread over all of paddy greens,
Crimson sun setting at the horizon,
Its ambience reflecting on the waters,
Spread over all what your eyes can see,
Clouds in the pure blue sky, streaked in red,
As if an Indian beau spreading her red chiffon over the sky,
In the clouds, thru you can see her curves.

Wish you were here….

On ground what you can see is cattle and humans herding together on the bunds and raised ground.
Cattle will shortly loose fodder and will have to reach along with the waters at the doorsteps of Bangladesh for slaughter.
All railway platforms will be home to a few millions for next few months.

Nitish Kumar will shout, like all other soon,
“We need funds – this is a national calamity, like never before”
Few days back he had said, “We are prepared for floods”
Yep, damn right, I have cleared my cupboards, to stack all the moolah.
Here it is Mr. Kumar.
Blow your conch. (Watch out, it might give you hernia)

Platform

Travel teaches tolerance.
An Indian railway teaches intolerance, perpetuates depression and invigorates frustration.

On way to the Himalayan Kingdom, I am stranded at Katihar station, for 6 hours now and will be perhaps another 6 hours before this iron horse budges.
Bengal is on strike and all trains enroute are stranded.

No train official in site, toilets are in bad shape, coaches are cockroach infested, vendors, beggars, rag pickers, pickpockets and snatchers congested.

Berths have become smaller.
But the railway’s Balance sheet is getting bigger.
Laloo knows what media buys and their intellectual bankcruptcy
He is making most of the India shining,
People ignore what they see with their naked eye.
They believe in what media has to show.
In what the politicians propose.

There has been so much of noise about the Indian railways doing great.
Just travel once to anywhere and you will know the truth.
But then you might be a super optimistic or a blind to say that, this is just one situation, others might be fine.
Balance sheets are fudged, and more over governments figures.
Anyway a socialist government is not supposed to make a profit that is what they say in their manifestos.

No competition. Will obviously lead to people being satisfied with what they get. Railways know it well.
People who make news or effect policies either do not travel by train or get a first class treatment in the trains.

For the rest of us, we just wait at the Platform.

Men Are Dogs

Yep. I agree, to the core.

Dear lady, there is just one way out, if you have to live with them.
Either be Masters or become Bitches.

Taking last evening’s conversation ahead…

Men are dogs, some less some more.
But then concentrate on the solution and not the problem.
What are you going to do about it?

Like most women, are you going to snoop, nag, avoid his and yours socializing, restrict his movements, call him umpteen times while he is away, smell his collars, check his phone, wallet, PC.
Make your mind a dustbin and your life garbage!

Here is a suggestion, from a first hand experience holder.
And, most of all a Dog.

If you have the ability and your man is a little less man or dog, become a master.
Make him do tricks, like buying jewelry, expensive clothes, holidays, parties etc.
And then reward him, with bones, flesh or even a cuddle in the neck is good enough for him to keep his tail wagging.

Or if your man is a little more dog, then become a bitch.

Get other dogs to wag their tales for you, socialize, get friends- male, on social networks, over phone, parties, and colleagues, travel whatever.
As long as you will have men other than your man, in your life trust me your man’s libido will stay high with you.
You have to be difficult to get, not impossible for him.
Jealousy and keeping him on his toes, always works.
Dogs want to work their way up; they want to prove themselves for every possession they hold.

With time, wives tend to get, taken for granted.
And no competition leads to no challenge, hence he wants to prove himself else where.

There is one glitch, men often turn violent in these situations, how you handle that depended entirely on your ability of carrots and stick.

Value your freedom, space, career and ambitions....and slowly, not immediately..he will thank you for this.



There is absolutely no harm in some flirtations elsewhere, as long as it is mutual and within emotional limitaions.
Effectively all men are dogs, so if you think grass is greener on the other side, you will prove yourself wrong.
To keep one at home stay put, and ready all nights, you would need a threat perception for him elsewhere, not one but a fewMany. This is also good for your confidence.

World and social behaviors change constantly, but the basic instincts remain there for a long time. Rather than blaming him for his genetic behavior.

Women should look for their own.
Striving for the best seed for themselves, constantly.

Now, that does not mean, one goes bed hopping with every hunk.
Not that every Man gets what he wishes.

Get your self a life and some dogs.