Hell breaks loose...

Sometimes,you just need to have a reality check.You just need to look deep into the crevices and apertures of your very own twisted mind and set some facts straight.Sometimes,in life,you need that punching bag,to vent your fury into,or maybe a stupid trash-can,just to spit out the venom inside you.

I am seething with anger right now and the reason for that is just myself.Why do I always get to learn things like this.Is RUDE SHOCKS the only way to give someone some perspective.Well maybe it is,because I've been getting these"zor ka jhatkas"ever since I have tried to bring about a change in myself.I now,realise that freaking egos are very important if you want to save your face here.Its good to have an inflated ego,sometimes,and may well as be darn good,to bring in a little bit of a fakish and flamboyant air about you,no matter how uncharacteristic it may seem.

As a result of the happenings over quite some time,I now feel the same way about friendship,the same that I feel about love.Nothing but an 8 letter word.B******T.

Kal ho Naa Ho........

THIS IS NOT AT ALL FUNNY..ITS MY OBITUARY....

This is 21st December 2089 and we are here to celebrate(oops..commemorate) the death of prominent businessman and city big wig Mayank Lodha,who lived till the ripe old age of 99.He died in bed,in the arms of his 19 year old latest girlfriend who has been admitted in the local hospital,suffering from acute exhaustion after last night's encounter and would not be able to attend the funeral.He is survived by 2 sons,who are having difficulty in hiding the glee beneath their solemn looking faces and about a dozen other relatives he didn't ever give a shit about.None of his friends would make it to his final journey.Apparently,all of them are dead,some tortured to the painful ignominy by the deceased himself,who was literally a KILLER with his ultra boring talks and others,who died out of frustration about their dull sex lives.His neighbours remember him as a weirdo with a penchant for blasting loud music in the dead of the night,and are heartbroken to learn that their nights will now be silent bliss.His colleagues and subordinates at his very own"MayaCorp" have also collected to pay homage to whom they say,was an absent minded,inefficient and yet a so very confidently demanding and underpaying boss.His grand-daughter is saddened that she would not be able to defeat him any longer in a game of criss-cross.On rambling through his belongings and notes,we find that his teachers at school and college had found to be quite an engaging child and had gone on to describe how nerdy and insipid he really was.

His extremely personal closet was broken into in search of alleged diamonds or other treasures that the asshole had reportedly hidden and all we found was an after death wishlist instead.The contents of which are listed below:

1.A statue be erected by the MISERLY MARWARI SOCIETY in his honour,funds for which would be taken from his already underpaid staff.

2.His orkut status message to be changed to"Long Live Mayank"and a community of the same name,to be moderated by his lovely grand-daughter.

3.Distribution of absolutely new and fresh porn Cds across all IITs,alongwith a weeklong supply of booze.

4.His personal library be dismantled and all the books be donated to nerds like him,found in every nook and cranny one could venture into.

5. His precious T-shirts and jeans be burned with him,so that no one else would wear them.

6.He wants Eminem's grandson to prepare a rap song about him,and to be played during his last rites.

With this we conclude this obituary,remembering Mayank for the moron that he was.May his soul rest in Eternal Piss.

Another Commercial Break.....

1..2..3..4..5..DLF Maximum..7..8..and so on.

If things stay as they are,with the excessive commercialisation of sports(Read IPL),this is going to be the norm when kids start learning how to count.

With so much money involved in this tournament and people earning money for as much as digging earth on the cricket field(Read Neil Mckenzie,Alistair Campbell among others)and even for giggling repeatedly and cracking senseless jokes on air(Not Mandira),I wonder if its a cricket tournament after all.

All said and done,some of the matches have been edge of the seat thrillers spoiled somewhat only by the irate and moronic commentary and the extremely annoying proliferation of advertisements between matches.

Fours,sixes,wickets,dot-balls and all that can happen on a cricket field has found a sponsor.Even the dog that came on the field has rumored to be sponsored by Vodafone.Wherever you go,our network follows.The sponsorship mania has ad-jaculated me too.

As I was Titan watching the DLF IPL, It Ford Pickup struck me as rather unfortunate that Indian cricket commentary had Parryware Kitchen sunk to such appalling depths where commentators have to Anchor plug brand names into every sentence they Pillsbury utter. MDH Masala seasoned campaigners like Arun'Dabur'Lal are now tongue Park Avenue tied as their regular cliches need to be Escorts Hospital surgically inserted with ads.

“We are in for a Parle cracker of a ITC match”, practices Arun. “That Vadilal Ball icecream was four from the Dairy Milk moment it left the BDM bat. It has gone the BSNL long distance.Gilette Razor edged, and taken. This match, one feels, will go down to the Havell’s wire".

What next??Maybe Branded Player Nicknames.Like Rahul"Birla Cement"Dravid-The Wall or Swapnil"Nano"Asnodkar or maybe even a John"DELL"Buchanan given his whims and fancies for laptop-ising the game of cricket.Or maybe during the player interviews,you could have ads flashing in the background when the player utters a particular word.Let say for example,Dhoni while answering Ravi Shastri,speaks about"performance".Whoa,you could have the DUREX logo flashing in the background.Or maybe,with the advent of new technology,in years to come,maybe we will be trained and brought up by these advertisers such that on hearing certain magical words like"Phosphoric acid"during the strategy time-out,an entire stadium full of people gets converted into zombies,walking nonchalantly towards the nearest Pepsi store.

Hey people,Don't mistake me.I'm totally in love with the IPL.This slambang version of cricket is too entertaining to miss out on.The pleasure of listening to legendary ex-cricketer commentators announcing with breathless excitement, the first DLF Maximum in any game with the fervour of a teenager at an Iron Maiden concert screaming at each one of their ridiculously homogenous songs,is too much to resist.

P.S:How about giving ads to the sultry and sexy cheerleaders??We won't complain as long as we get to see more of them.They're SIMPLY SMOKING HOT...