After a long time!!

Its been a long time since I have posted. I have always taken inspiration from something which has happened with me and turn it into a humourous account of events using my imagination. During these last four months, hard as I might try, I could not convert my experiences into something funny, which is, I know hard to believe. Due to my inability to rely on my personal happenings to produce amusing bits of stories anymore, I have decided to rely only on my imagination alone to come up with posts. I know it might be difficult, but as somebody said - on the other side of difficulties is success.

I love the character of Lord Emsworth from the Blanding series by P.G Wodehouse. My new posts will center on conversation and situations with someone who is like Lord Emsworth and Me. I will be narrating the story of course.


1. An introduction to Harsha

It is imperative that, you should know how Harsha and I met and how we came to be friends. So here it goes:

"Its a tricky situation. Prasad has to apply all his experience."
"What do you think?" The guy who was standing beside me said loudly. Almost everybody in the crowd looked at this guy with an expression that indicated - one more word and you are a dead man. And that look transferred to me, because the guy addressed it to me, as if I had something to do with this guy shouting loudly.
I looked at him and pleaded him to lower his voice and concentrate on the screen.
And suddenly the entire crowd started shouting wildly, like a tribals preparing to sacrifice before their beloved gods. It took a moment for me to realise what happened and joined the celebration with a scream.

After a couple of minutes, the thrill died down and I started becoming aware of where I was. I was in front of a TV showroom watching the Indian cricket celebrating the win on one of the numerous televisions on display. And the hero of course was Venkatesh Prasad, the Indian fast bowler who hit 3 runs of the last ball to take India to victory (of some series I don't remember).

"You are from Om Vidyalaya right - 97 batch?" asked the guy who was standing beside me as the crowd started to disperse. I replied in the affirmative and asked "Do I know you?"
"You were my class mate in sixth......and you are Nrupesh.... aren't you? You and I were partners in building a model of a village with a wind mill and a bio gas plant"
"u.... huh" I said with some difficulty. Who could remember with such alarming details of events of nearly 8 years before?
"I am Harsha" he said with his right hand propped up. I shook his hand trying to recall why did I ever make a model of a village with a bio gas plant.
After some more introductions of what he was doing and what I was, exchanging our mobile phone numbers (which has become a common practice as saying bye to an acquaintance), I was planning to say good bye.
"Great partnership, wasnt it?" he said and I said yes. Without the crucial partnership between Venkatesh Prasad and Javagal Srinath the match was as good as lost.
"We scored 5 upon 5" he said
"What?"
"The village model, Annapurna ma'am was really impressed by it"
"Oh ..... ok, I thought you were referring to the cricket match"
"What cricket match?"
I looked at one of the television screens on which the presentation ceremony was being conducted. Following my lead, Harsha directed his attention and for 3 to 5 seconds, his mouth was open staring at the TVs.
"Oh...this cricket match" he said with the conviction of understanding a complex mathematical theory.
I was planning, for the second time, to say good bye when Harsha uttered a curse which made the dispersing crowd stared at us....... again. An elderly man gave a look that could have meant either we were better of unborn or if it was up to him, he would have hanged us upside down and give a thrashing of our lives.

"What happened?" I asked
"Somebody flicked my wallet" he said and frantically searched all his trouser pockets. He was tensed like I did before I gave my X class exams and the trouser was a cargo which had at least 10 pockets. "I should have been careful. Shit man, my mom is going to kill me. what shall I do Nrupesh?"
"I think your wallet is in shirt pocket" I said when I saw it just before he questioned me.
He took out his wallet and the relief spread across all his features as fast as ink spreads on a blotting paper.

I was planning, for the third time, to say good bye and before I could, he said it this time and turned muttering something unintelligible with out waiting for me to return his farewell. He walked away very fast without giving me any opportunity even to catch him up.

I returned to my home. The face actually looked familiar, though I was unable to place it. I slept with Harsha out of mind, though little did I know that he would call me the next day, the day next to that and almost every other day!!

My trip to Goa with two……... Part 2 (pls read part 1 first)

To describe me as utterly shocked to the core is like throwing a dart as close to the bulls eye as possible. One can also describe me as spellbound and speechless partially because Mr. Manikant, who seemed to share my feelings, in his booming voice pounded questions at the driver who also looked shocked by the influx of so many queries. I guess Mr. Mohit was not shocked because he sat motionless, oblivious of what was going on with his huge tinted sunglasses on. May be he was taking a nap!

After the barrage of questions the hapless driver was finding it difficult to drive on the already damaged highway. The answers given by the driver did not elicit any new information.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” the pessimist resurfaced again. “It’s not as bad as it looks like, you still have your phone, internet and some books. They should keep you afloat for the next week” the optimist always seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

We reached the client location after travelling 20 minutes from the Goa-Karnataka border. The entry gate was unassuming. The moment we entered the factory premises, a cold breeze swept into from the car’s air conditioning on to my face, silence engulfed the vehicle different from the silence during the 2.5 hrs ride, a distinct peace settled into my heart, the surroundings could have inspired Robert Frost to pen something immortal. Involuntarily I reached for phone and to my horror I found there was no network. The cold breeze withdrew, silence during the ride took its rightful place again, the peace which settled itself on false pretences was kicked out and Robert Frost would not have dreamed of entering such a place.

“There is no network here!!” I blurted out.

“Only BSNL phones work here, sir” the driver said.

“I don’t use a mobile phone. People become slaves of mobiles.” declared Mr. Manikant.

“Only BSNL, shit man” I cried out

“Everybody has a mobile phone these days; they pay money to get enslaved, to loose their independence.” interpolated Mr. Manikant again.

“Only BSNL, are u sure” I asked driver, in a tone which in itself was the answer to the question I posed. The driver sympathetically nodded his head, to indicate that I was not the first one.

“Addiction……young people get addicted to mobiles. In my days the landline was only a mode of communication” concluded you know who.

First mode of transportation, now mode of communication. Before I could think of any other modes, I realised with yet another shock that no network meant no internet, since I used my phone to connect to the net. Despair…….yes despair would just about sum up my situation.

For the next three days, my elderly colleagues did what they did best and I did what I don’t do the best, which is, appreciating the greenery around, enjoying the tranquility of the place, soliloquizing, gazing at office furniture and stuff like that. At the end of the third day, while having my dinner, a brilliant thought stuck me – what if I can go back to Hyderabad (my home town) for the weekend, instead of travelling back to Delhi. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed and before I finished my dinner, my spirits were on a new high.

Next day was beautiful. I could hear the birds chirping, experienced a gentle breeze and I heard Mr. Mohit talk. Just when things were going great, I was informed that Kapil was trying to get in touch with me. With a definite feeling of foreboding I dialed Kapil’s number. The long and short of the phone call, which you might have already guessed is not good news, is that ‘we’ have to go to Bhuj in Gujrat to another factory, for three more days.

What does a man do when his hopes are crushed and has to look forward to few more days of dread and horror? He sulks. And that’s what I did; I sulked for the whole day, succumbed to the inevitable and landed in Bhuj on Sunday morning.

What is the first thing, which comes to your mind when you hear about Bhuj. Yes….earthquakes! And what are the odds of an earthquake on Monday morning when I am fast asleep? At about 5 in the morning, an earthquake measuring 4.8 on the Richter scale (for the information of readers, no damage to property or life was reported) shook Bhuj. A nice ‘Welcome to Bhuj’ gift, isn’t it?

This client location had the almost the same characteristics of the previous one with one exception. Unlike Karwar which was endowed with ample greenery, Bhuj was totally dry. Only weeds grew in abundance in Bhuj. From experiencing a new high a few days back, my spirits plummeted to a new low during these days. But all was not lost; I could still go to Hyderabad this weekend if I was not sent to another godforsaken place, though I was not too optimistic about it and who can blame me?

My fear was not misplaced when Mr. Manikant cornered me on the third day at Bhuj and informed me that we were going to Jamnagar next for ‘only’ two days. Compared to all previous blows, this piece of news was taken by me pretty well; the primary reason being he also asked me to book the tickets for Delhi on Saturday.

Two days in Jamnagar were a mere blur; with ticket to Hyderabad (I booked a ticket to Hyderabad instead of Delhi) in my hand, I entered the airport on Saturday. Could anything go wrong from here? I asked myself. Looking back at the two weeks anything could happen, but it seemed that gods were in a happy mood over the weekend partying somewhere in the heavens.

I spent two days blissfully in Hyderabad and on Monday evening I was on the flight back to Delhi. What I was about to face in Delhi was nothing compared to the last two weeks. But that’s another story!!

Epilogue: I like the word ‘Epilogue’ and that’s the reason I am writing one and whether this is an epilogue or not I have no idea. When I landed in Hyderabad I realised that Mr. Mohit had never been with us in Jamnagar. Back in Delhi I was told that he returned after the trip to Bhuj.

My trip to Goa with two……..

Rrrrrrrr……..rrrrrrr…… my phone started vibrating. I was attending this extremely boring “induction” programme, conducted for new joiners by my employer, on a Friday. Torn between the desire to sleep till the programme ends and to get out of the hall, I stepped outside the hall wondering who’s the caller, since the number was not stored in my phone book.

“Hello” I said

“Hello Nrupesh, this is Kapil from Valuation. You need to go to Goa for a week with two others for an assignment.”

The phrase “Goa for week” transported me directly to the beaches of Goa, bikini clad women, water sports and what not. What Kapil said next I don’t remember, but I exactly recollect my responses….. “hmmmm”, “ok”, “achha”, “sure”.

Have you read Lemony Snicket’s “A series of unfortunate events”? Even if you haven’t read it, the title is suggestive enough. Little did I know that sleeping would have been a much better option than taking the call.

With the tickets in my hand on Saturday, I was all set to go to Goa. I got another call from Kapil and he explained me that I have to accompany an engineer and an architect and my work would involve only coordinating with client, which seemed to increase my anticipation multifold..... little work means more time to spare and that too in Goa. “It is too good to be true Nrupesh”, the pessimistic in me tried to warn me but I paid little heed to it.

I landed at Goa on Monday morning. My colleagues who were flying in from Coimbatore, were to join me in an hour. I was waiting outside the airport reading a book when somebody tapped me on my shoulder. I turned around and my eyes met an elderly man in a safari suit, who I vaguely remember seeing him somewhere, but couldn’t place him at that moment.

“Are you from ABC consulting?” He asked

“Yeah” I replied, a little puzzled

“I am Manikant, K.L Manikant” he said as if that solved the puzzle. I know that I am quite popular in Hyderabad and wouldn’t be astonished if something of this sort had happened there. But was I that popular in Goa too? Unlikely. The only dreaded logical conclusion I could jump to was that he was one of my colleague. He was rotund and spoke with authority which would make a lesser man cower behind the suitcase. Trusting my logical ability, I said

“Hello Mr. Manikant, I am Nrupesh. Where is Mr……….”

“Mr. Mohit is with the luggage trolley. Where is our mode of transportation?”

How the hell would I know where our “mode” is? I said I would search for the placards and then comeback in a moment. There were no placards with our names on and that I conveyed it to Mr. Manikant who was now flanked by another elderly person, who could be none other than Mr. Mohit. Mr. Mohit was exactly the opposite of Mr. Manikant, not exactly “Laurel and Hardy” types, but close enough. I was not mistaken when he greeted me, his “hello” was similar to a “hello” spoken from a flawed flute, as opposed to the booming “I am Manikant”. I called up Kapil and our “mode” was going to be a little late. We waited in silence for the vehicle. “One week in Goa with two oldies for company” snickered my pessimistic friend. “But its Goa dude” assured my optimistic pal.

Within 20 minutes, I was nestled in the front seat of an Indica with the relics in the back seat.

“How far is the hotel from here?” I asked the driver expecting it to be not more than half an hour.

To this question the driver replied somewhat confused “We are going to the Company guest house sir. Its in Karwar in Karnataka, 120 Km from here and will take at least 2.5 hrs because the road is not good as it used to be a month back”

To be continued…..

I always try to use my literary skill (however lamentable it maybe) to come up with new posts and I don't copy stuff. But i had to put this in my blog. This article appeared in "Deccan Chronicle" a daily in Hyderabad around 10 years ago and I found it extremely hilarious and if this article doesn't reach a wider audience it would be a pity..... Read on

This Angrezi is Crazy

There is no egg in eggplant or ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins were not invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies, while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write, but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce, and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, two geese. So, one moose, two meese? One index, two indices? Is cheese the plural of choose?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

In what language do people recite at a play, and play at a recital? Ship by truck, and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?

And why do they call it a “building” if it was ALREADY built!

When a house burns up, it burns down. You fill in a form by filling it out, and an alarm clock goes off by going on. When the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it.

Author: some one really great!

Weighty compliments and insults

What is the best compliment a person can receive? Apparently “you have lost weight” seems to be the finest flattering remark in this era of weight obsession. On the same analogy “you have put on weight” is the worst smear ever.

How would a person know whether the other has lost or gained weight by just looking at them (and usually after a considerable time gap) is beyond me. I can think of some methods with which one could achieve this, but each of them seems as improbable as the other. Let me elucidate:

Date X – When Person A meets Person B:

1. A lifts B bodily and ascertains the weight and commits it to memory
2. A always carries a weighing machine and on Date X measures the weight and jots it down in his weight book against the persons name and date
3. A has the ability to discern the weight just by looking B, an ability that most of us seem to possess.

Date Y – When Person A meets Person B (after a considerable time gap)

A repeats any of the above techniques of weight determination and compares it to come to irrefutable conclusion that B has either lost or gained weight

Pay particular attention to the words “person”, “flatter” and “smear” employed above.

Though I generalise by the use of the word “person”, its applicability relates to a large extent to the fairer sex, however men are increasingly showing a tendency to blush at this compliment.

As per recent statistics 80% of the people who use the expression "you have lost weight" are

1. not as weightier as the other person AND

2. use the expression as conversation starter or to "flatter".

Also 85% of the people who use the slanderous "you have gained weight" are consumed by the "green eyed monster"!

What would happen if Indian Cricket Team were consistent?

Has anybody wondered what would happen if India keeps winning game after game after game! I know its ludicrous even to think of such a situation. But still.. if by some miracle the Indian team triumphs in every encounter what would be the likely result.... imagine two erstwhile cricket lovers taking about India's win in the recent world cup (for god sake ...just imagine for a moment) where they routed all the teams

Erstwhile Cricket Lover No.1 : "Read the news paper today"
Erstwhile Cricket Lover No.2 : "Ya, the news about doctors removing a worm out of woman's eye was bewildering"
Erstwhile Cricket Lover No.1 : "That was incredible, talk about the advances made by man in medical surgery and women getting worms into their eyes. Anyway, I was alluding to the recent India's Win"
Erstwhile Cricket Lover No. 2 : yawn..."Yes....they win..." yawning continues "again....what are you doing today? how about a movie or ....lets go some place nice" ('some place nice' is restaurant in Hyderabad)

How many people stand to loose if India doesnt loose? Let me try to make a list

1. The Cricketers
2. BCCI
3. The ICC
4. The Sponsors
5. People who manage Cricket Stadiums
6. Cricket Website
7. Commentators
I am sure they are some more...will update it when my readers give their opinion
Contribution by Vineet http://www.betweenthedoors.blogspot.com

1 - The rival teams (no need to be a genius to figure this out)
2 - Self Styled Critics (especially old Indian team cricket players)
and of course
3 - The Satta Guys



With some many people standing to loose....India winning consistently is a pipe dream!!

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows

Date: July 22, 2007 10:20 AM
Caution: Not for muggles and not too long.
After just 4 hrs of sleep.....sleep? I wonder whether i really slept for these 4 hrs. I completed the book at 5 AM and trying to extricate myself from Hogwarts seemed impossible. Images of the last scenes were still swimming in my head, only the "Draught of Living Death" could put me to a sound sleep.

Two years has definitely been worth the wait for me and, for i guess, for most of them who revel in the magical world of Harry Potter. I now realise how I feel now....exactly like some one at the end of an immensely exciting and long roller coaster ride.

After 3 previous books, its a relief that the last book unlike its predecessors did not end in sorrow and grief. No body can deny it was a happy ending after all......but like the basilisk fang that struck Harry...the realisation that there are no more harry potter books to wait for and read them, I cant help but feel sad.

Harry had lived...Snape turns out to be the good guy after all (One or two tears did trickle down, when harry sees Snape's memories in the pensieve, especially when he says he has always cared for harry).... Harry Potter the last horcux..(which i refused to believe when people put forth the theory.....simply because i did not want Harry to die, which he had to if he was the last horcrux).


The book (the whole series of 7 books) which gave me the impetus to read and write has come to an end and at once a huge question pops up. Will there be any other book will be as anticipated as Harry Potter..a book which will be worth waiting for two whole years... a book that is going to break all the previous records...a book that will make the author one of the richest persons.....a book that children and adults alike would be hooked on till the end..... a book that has made the entire world plunge into another dimension......a book like Harry Potter.

Being a belligerent hoper (not hopper) I hope that there might be one!