Mera Coat Bhi Sexy, Tera Petticoat Bhi Sexy

Wannabe Page 3 reporter Khudawand Raam sneaked into an important event in the city recently. It was the mahurat of the most talked about yet-to-be-released film in recent times—Mera Coat Bhi Sexy, Tera Petticoat Bhi Sexy. The concept of the film has already generated so much public interest that the mahurat was thronged by a plethora of politicians, journalists and nurses. Our reporter was intrigued by the presence of the nurses, for this fraternity is hardly represented in other media events. Without much ado, the scribe was able to get all the answers to his questions (almost all).

This film has been produced by the Nurses’ Union of India. One of their union leaders, Joylakshmi by name, has written the script as well as played the lead role in the film. Directed by a politician named Raunak-chori Chori (who plays the male protagonist), this movie promises to be an entertaining thriller, as it will draw elements from Malayalam porn films, song-dance sequences from Bollywood blockbusters, and suspense and action from Hollywood thrillers. (Click here for the details of the movie)

All was going well until the start of the press conference. The heroine told the press that ever since the movie was shot, she is getting threatening calls from the hero for the distribution rights of the film. She said she will not part with the rights over her film since it’s her baby. Two months’ back, she had contemplated suicide because she failed to find distributors who would buy her tale. She said that her modesty was violated when they refused to believe that the movie poster that she had designed was authentic and not trick photography. She has now approached the State Women's Commission for justice, but is sceptical about receiving the same. She also said that Raunak-chori Chori has been forcing her to marry him against her wishes. She was on the verge of tears when she demanded sexual freedom, the freedom to screw any man she liked without getting entangled in the wedding web. It was an emotional scene, for almost everyone in the audience was moved to the point of tears. After gulping down her emotions, Joylakshmi finally said: “I will release a CD soon to establish my relationship with Raunak-chori Chori”. The whole atmosphere reverberated with the slogans of “Jai Joylakshmi”, raised by the nurses and other feminists. The hero, Raunak-chori Chori, was not available for comment. This was because the State Women’s Commission (his PR?) strongly advised him not to talk to the press.

The reporter asked some of the dignitaries present in the event about how they felt about the movie. Hush Chopra, the owner of Hush Hush Productions had this to say: “This is a landmark event. We are all waiting eagerly for the CD to be released. We are fed up of monotonous porn movies; this movie promises excitement and entertainment at the same time. We are trying to negotiate with Joylakshmi for broadcasting rights of the movie.”

Adnan Semi, the semi-singer cum semi-actor cum semi-pianist, was very pleased with the poster idea. “This is an inspiring movie! This will give all those fat and ugly people out there a new ray of hope…that even they can have rocking sex, and that it only takes two grotesque pairs of lips to deliver that sensational kiss! One of my support staff has downloaded the movie poster and set it as desktop wall-paper. Every day we worship Joylakshmi and draw strength from her example. Jai Joylakshmi!”

Everyone in the audience went ga-ga over the poster and the story. Our scribe has therefore, decided to attach a “moist-watch” tag on this movie. Watch out for Mera Coat Bhi Sexy, Tera Petticoat Bhi Sexy in a theatre near you!

Bugular Vein: with Bug Suraiya

I spent months in the UP political arena, accessing secret government papers, and memos and letters exchanged between political leaders. The following report is based on an internet chat transcript I managed to get hold off. It is between Malign Singh Yadav, the erstwhile Chief Minister of Unruly Pradesh (UP), Kumari Mewawati, the present CM of UP, Hammer Singh, strong man of SP and Reject Sharma, the owner of India TV, via Yahoo! Messenger. It might appear scandalous. It actually is.

The chat transcripts can be found below.

its_malign.singh: i m shockd 2 c dat report on ur channel. u hv actualy blackend d image of our party. will nt tk dis litely. plz b prepared 4 action. :-X

rjct_sharma_niceguy: u hv bin calld as da “man who squandrd 2 mch public money”. dey say dat you wasted a lot of money in xpensiv political campaigns. u also removd well-meaning bureaucrats 4m imprtnt depts & replacd dem with Yadavs. During ur tenure, goondaraj prevailed in UP. wat do u hv 2 say abt dat?

rjct_sharma_niceguy: malign singh ji???

rjct_sharma_niceguy: mantriji? u there???

rjct_sharma_niceguy: Buzz!

rjct_sharma_niceguy: Audible: Abbe e… offline ho gaya kya, ya Mr. India ban baitha hain? Lal chasma lagaoon kya baba!

its_malign.singh: m here…m here…gt dc…u knw net is slow in up.. :-P

rjct_sharma_niceguy: ur UP u mean! wat did u do in da last 5 yrs if derz no net in lucknow?

its_malign.singh: sharma ji it is vry un4tunate dat u shd thnk lyk dat of me. UP ws perfectly safe in my tym. dere wer no goondas, only a disciplinary army of my suporters who cdnt tolerate nuisance. My job hs alwys bin 2 protect my state & ppl 4m harm. Remmber i ws da Raksha Mantri 1ce? & da bureaucrats, dey wer under-per4min officers brot in by da previus Mewawati regim. i brot in mor efficient Yadav officrs. wats d big dil? al dis nonsense hs bin spred by d opposition. Its a ploy 2 malign meee. LL

rjct_sharma_niceguy: xcus me, bt opposition? i thot u r d opposition nw. :-O

its_malign.singh: watevr! regarding our pol campains, v only highlited da progres made by UP in da last 5 yrs. Hammer Singh ji personally handld da campains. & plzzz dnt play around with meee. i know hw u al made up da Aman Verma casting couch story. da details cn b made public thru sum oder news channel, if u dnt mend ur ways. :-X

rjct_sharma_niceguy: v also hv details abt da cases of corruption dat u hv indulged in. 2 giv u a hint of wat v knw, v knw da connection betwn Nora Yadav (ur 4mer Chief Secretary), da Noida Land Scam, & u. dese cn jeopardise ur career, since u r out of power. da details cn b leaked out 2 Mewawati ji. :-P

its_malign.singh: dear reject sa’ab…he he he! :-D :-D… i ws joking :-D :-D

its_malign.singh: m wiling 2 invest in ur channel. wat say! J J

rjct_sharma_niceguy: Audible: Oye chuk de phatte!

rjct_sharma_niceguy: lol JJJ

hammer_boy is now online

rjct_sharma_niceguy: hammer singh ji is online…let’s hv a conference chat…

its_malign.singh: badhiya! plzzz invite him…

hammer_boy has joined the conference

its_malign.singh: aao bhai! hw r u?

hammer_boy: namaste reject ji! namaste malign bhai! kya haalchal?

rjct_sharma_niceguy: namaste! hwz evrythn goin? v wer tlkn bout ya…J

hammer_boy: really??? wow!!! wat ws it bout?

rjct_sharma_niceguy: well…cud u shed more lite on da pol campains?

hammer_boy: J was a perfect campaign! v roped in Amitabh Bachchan 2 campain 4 us… he ws soooo co-operative! he did it free of cost 4 us. hez lyk a bro 2 me!

rjct_sharma_niceguy: Audible: Ae chal e shaane…hawa aane de…

hammer_boy: :-X wat ws dat reject ji? u think m lyin?

rjct_sharma_niceguy: not really… bt i hv heard dat u did it jst 2 consol Amit ji, who ws sad 4 havin lost da “Hot-seat” 2 Shahrukh Khan, along with da money. & i hv learnt dat Amit ji will reciprocate by givin u a role in a film, since u wnt hv nething 2 do bt face nquiries, nw dat u r outta pwr. plzzz nliten us on dis…

its_malign.singh: Audible: arre yahin to dhokha kha gaya India…

its_malign.singh: i hd askd hammer bhai 2 giv amit ji d Allahabad seat…bt bhai dint listen 2 meeee….LLL

hammer_boy: dts bulshit! tis Mewawati’s chaal…shez a @!&*#!…shez spredin bad wrds abt me…:-X

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon is now online

rjct_sharma_niceguy: ok…Mewawati ji is nw online…lets hear it 4m her…m inviting her 2…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon has joined the conference

rjct_sharma_niceguy: namaste behenji! hw u doin?

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: namaste reject ji! m fine…who els is here?

hammer_boy: Audible: aankhen hai ki batatein...dikhta nahin kya?

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: ohho…malign singh ji & hammer singh ji r also here… :-O…wat r u ppl doin @ dis hour? pakaoing khichdi against me? >:) >:)

rjct_sharma_niceguy: no behenji…v r discusin sum serious issues…hammer singh ji is upset with u…he thnks u r spredin bad wrds against him…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: Audible: Hai Daiyya..bas bhi karo..log kya kahenge!

its_malign.singh: dts not funny…:-X

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: sorry…bt i ws only tryin 2 mk thngs lite…y wud i spred bad wrds abt hammer singh ji? he hs bin hidin in Mumbai, at amit ji’s plc evr since he lst d election…

hammer_boy: m nt hidin…i hv cum dwn 2 bless abhi-ash after der wedding…

rjct_sharma_niceguy: & hez waitin @ Pratiksha..amit ji’s plc…4 a cal 4m cbi…:-D:-D

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: wat is mobile number, karoo kya dial number…hi hi hi..:-D

rjct_sharma_niceguy: :-D :-D

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: hi hi hi…reject ji…did u c hammer singh ji’s dance on Close-up Antakshari? he cn put 2 shame ne belly-dancer in town…he ws lukin sexy…hi hi hi…:-D

hammer_boy: enuf! i knw hw u won d election dis tym…

its_malign.singh: yea…u did booth-capturin…n bribed election commission officers…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: grw up guys…i made brahmins n dalits vote 4 me…a feat dt even da great Currency Raam ji, my guru, cdnt achieve…da kurmis also suportd me…i hv gt absolute majority, mind it…

its_malign.singh: n u made Boney Prasad Verma, defect 4m my party…u split da kurmi votes…i wl kill u! :-X

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: i dint do dat…twas To-hell Gandhi…

hammer_boy: wat?! dat launda? he tlkd abt his family splittin pakistan…he split our vote-bank…i hate him!

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: i nvr sed i lyk him! bt i lyk his mom…shez soooo sweeeet!

hammer_boy: u mean dts y u neva married? >:) >:)

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: shut up! dnt 4get dt i m da CM nw…i wl screw up ur lives…i hv seen hw u ppl destroyd govt. papers wen d election results came…n i wl c 2 it dt d noida-ghaziabad DM/SSP posting case cums bk 2 headlines again…jst bcoz of me, buses r running betwn Delhi n UP again…

rjct_sharma_niceguy: enuf ppl! Plzzzz…plzzzzzzzzz stop fighting….behenji, wt r ur plans nw? u r CM nw…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: wl fix up malign’s n hammer’s asses…& wl mk brahmins & dalits eat 4m da same platter…>:) >:)

rjct_sharma_niceguy: oh! den i wl neva go 2 UP…behenji…plz hv sum respct 4 religious n communal sentiments of ppl…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: wt do u thnk only malign singh, Cologne Singh and Rosenut Singh hv da rite 2 play da communal harmonium? i wl play it 2!!!!!

rjct_sharma_niceguy: bt behenji, dnt 4get dt da Taj Corridor case is stil pending…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: dnt wry…dis tym i wl sel da Taj! Lord Curzon tried 2 do it at da strt of 20^th century…mewawati wl do it in da 21^st century…

its_malign.singh: dt wl neva happen…Taj is a property of da wakf board…v wl stage dharnas n walkouts in d assembly if u do dt…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: i wl throw my slippers @ u if u do dt…

hammer_boy: jst try dt 1ce & u wl c wt v wl do…u wnt hv al da mewa alone…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: u shitty ppl! wat do u thnk of urslvs?

its_malign.singh: hold ur tongue, @!&*#!

!

rjct_sharma_niceguy: Audible: arre dil pe mat le yaar…

kunwarihoon_2mharihoon: shut up reject! I wl reject al ur tenders 4 tv coverage of events in UP…..

rjct_sharma_niceguy: who d @!&*#! do u think u r…

The rest of the transcript couldn’t be provided as the conversation wanders off to wanton profanities from here. Nevertheless, you al knw nw dt UP elections hv bin real nasty…God help UP…God Save The Queen!

An Officer and a Gentleman: Heart to heart with a Soldier

“Can you turn that thing off?”—the young officer requests…rather insists.

My mind flies back in time. “Ay! Light bandh karo!”—an ominous voice starts ringing in my ears.

It was the early nineties. Trouble in the North-eastern state of Assam was blown out of proportion with the large-scale deployment of the Indian Army in order to carry out counter-insurgency operations. What followed was a decade-long saga of encounters, ambushes and wild manhunts under operations Bajrang, Rhino and Sher-dil. Collateral damage was more than expected: a fact that tarnished the image of the army among the local populace. The army came to be looked upon with fear and anger. Yet, there was a young generation that was old enough to be awed by the Kalashnikov wielding Men in Green, but too young to understand the politics behind them.

It was during those years of turmoil that the incident that I vividly remember, happened. We were on our way to another town. The night was dark. Suddenly we were stopped by a posse of army-men. One of them approached our car, and in a hoarse tone, told my father to switch off the head-lights. There were other vehicles too, ahead of us. We all were stranded on the highway. After an agonising wait of more than half an hour, we heard staccato bursts at a distance. It went on for around fifteen minutes. After that, everything was silent. After another hour, we were told to move ahead.

I recently heard of a young army officer from Assam who is posted in the Kashmir valley. I don’t know that many young men of my age from my state joining the Indian Army. Many youngsters like me are of the view that the army offers you a life of hardships and perpetual danger. Intrigued, I decided to meet him.

His persona did not fit the image of an army officer that was there in my mind. To me, an army officer has always been a giant-looking man with a hoarse voice and handlebar moustache. This guy was clean shaven, youthful in his conduct, and looked good in casuals. He seemed all pepped up to talk about his life; but the moment I took out the Dictaphone, he became extra conscious. Someone had said a long time back that a soldier finds courage if he sees an enemy with a gun, but loses it if he sees someone with a microphone. He looked around the place. He looked uncomfortable. Normally, guys behave like that when they go out on their first date. But this guy is no ordinary guy—he is a commissioned officer in the Indian Army. And it was no date either; it was a rendezvous with a wannabe journalist who was himself looking for his fifteen minutes of fame.

Why do people join the army? For thrill?

“I never looked for a job. I was after a life that I always wanted. After some heart-searching, I realised that it was the army that could give me that. Today, I can say that I am content with my life. Army is not a profession for me; it is a way of life.”

People of the Northeast have outgrown the pain and anger of the past. Many are swelling the ranks of the armed forces in great numbers now. Same is the story in the Kashmir valley.

“This is my first posting in the valley, and for the first time I am getting to spend my time with my men in a “field” situation. I am getting to see what the Indian Army is doing in the valley. Life in the valley is not as bad as you think. It’s exciting! It does get frustrating at times, as you are totally cut-off from your family and friends. Still, the valley is a beautiful place. Had it not been for the army, I don’t know if I would have ever got a chance to be in Kashmir.”

As we ordered food, I remembered a scene from the movie Border (released a decade ago) where Akshaye Khanna trembles at the thought of killing someone.

“It will be Karma and Dharma for me. I am not a trigger-happy person, so I wouldn’t like to kill someone just for the heck of it. But if it is required, I will do that. It’s a part of my profession. But I am yet to see real action.”—he continued to stare at the recorder while answering.

When I was young, I was fascinated by the armed forces. All those Commando comics are still stacked up in my study. As I grew up, the interest waned, maybe because I was not comfortable with the idea of leading a hard life. In my time, ambushes and encounters were common in the Northeast. Many a times, youngsters like me saw the corpses of dead soldiers and civilians smeared in blood. But what disturbed me most was the thought of losing some friend in some encounter.

“I did lose a friend. He was my immediate junior in the IMA and a Gentleman Cadet. He died in a grenade explosion during a training session. His name was Bir Tiwari. It was in the news, you must have heard about it. It came to me like a rude shock. I haven’t been able to accept his death till today. You get such kind of a bonding only in the army.”

My parents used to make faces whenever I used to talk about joining the army. It takes you away from your family, they would say.

“Of course, I miss my family. I don’t get to talk to them often, as the connectivity in the valley is very poor. The Govt. of India is not doing anything to provide better connectivity there. But I am moving out of the Counter Insurgency (CI) area into the LOC (Line of Control). I am going to get a satellite phone there with which I can constantly be in touch with my family.”

Meanwhile, food was served on our table. The aroma of kadhai chicken delighted us! I remembered my first date. But we had butter chicken. Those days were fun! I believe you learn a lot about life from your relationships.

“Oh…I am single as of now. My first relationship happened during my college days at Fergussons, Pune. It ended within a year. The second relationship didn’t work out and resulted in a mutually-agreed-upon break-up. The only good thing about it is that we still are good friends” I could make out from his words that he has always been a practical, down-to-earth guy. God cast him in the army mould, I think to myself. But I want to know about his dream woman.

“Well, she has to be pretty…very pretty…smart…presentable…you could say a head-turner”

“If you are given a choice between Katrina Kaif and Sushmita Sen, whom will you choose?”

“Katrina!” I wanted to know if Katrina’s Kashmiri origin had anything to do with his choice.

“No, man! I also like Priyanka Chopra, but she was not on your list!"—he tried to fox me, with a smile. Just then, two attractive women entered the restaurant. I wanted to know if they fell in the category of “head-turning” women.

“Certainly! And I would love to marry a woman like them!”—he was chivalrous in his reply.

As I chomped on the juice-filled chicken, my mind was filled with random thoughts. I decided to put them into words. I asked the young officer to allow me my indulgences.

“Your favourite movie in recent times?”

“Spiderman 3.”

“The worst movie you have seen of late?”

“Spiderman 3! It’s the only movie I have seen recently so my choice is limited.”

“Your favourite drink?”

“Beer”.

“Are you a party animal?”

“Oh yes, I am very much a party animal. The Rang De Basanti types: guzzling beer and taking pangas with the police.”

“Your favourite band (s)?”

“Nirvana and Cranberries.”

“Favourite song?”

“Come as you are”

“Your passions?”

“Babes and bikes. I just love Tom Cruise’s bike in Top Gun”

“Are you cynical about life?”

“Not at all! I am a very positive person. In fact, I am so positive that I am already hoping that those two women over there (pointing towards a table) will go out with me for a dance.”—we both laughed as he answered.

“So, how are your relations with your men?”—I asked him while savouring at the food.

“Fantastic! My immediate senior is like a brother to me. He even gave me his ATM card to use when I was coming down to Delhi. You don’t get to see that everyday, do you? I feel privileged to be in the army. We believe in the concept that respect is earned, not demanded. My men are important to me. Without them, I am no leader.”

Your leadership qualities are put to test in the army. Good leaders are those, it is said, who follow the orders of their seniors unquestionably, and make their juniors follow theirs without a fuss. I never wanted somebody else to “programme” my thoughts—one of the many reasons why I never joined the army.

“Nothing like that. My job as an army-man is to issue orders to my subordinates, and follow orders of my superiors. Following orders is a must in the army. We are bound by oath. We are not supposed to think over orders.”—he looked away from me, at a particular table to our right, where two young girls were sipping coke.

“But what if you are asked to do something by your senior that your conscience is totally against? What if you are asked to kill someone you don’t want to kill? What if you are asked to open fire at an unarmed crowd? Will you use your judgement then?”—my question was like a “booby-trap” for him.

“Well, sometimes you have to rely on the judgement of your superiors. Our army is very humane. We are professional soldiers, not killing machines. But we are also fallible people. We are prone to committing mistakes. I think it will be only fair if you think about us for all the good that we stand for, rather than for the mistakes that we have made.”—it was more of an appeal than a reply. But this time, he was looking straight into my eyes.

They say that army life is full of hardships. You feel that the grass is greener on the other side.

“I would have loved to draw a higher pay, going by the work we do.”

“Would you like to serve in a war theatre like Iraq?”

“I will not volunteer. We army-men are peace-loving people. But if my unit is given marching orders, I will go anywhere, even Timbuktu.”

On my way back, the handsome face of the young officer kept on floating in my mind. And the ominous voice of the army-man I encountered many years ago, kept on ringing in my ears. After a while, it faded away…

Copyright warning: This article as well as the other posts are property of Kitsch Magazine (where I work, of course). Do not use them without prior permission of the writer and the company (Twenty Onwards Media Pvt. Ltd. New Delhi)

Kaafi With Khudawand

Kitsch TV presents, Kaafi With Khudawand, the one and only zero-advertisement show. Here is our host for the evening—Khudawand Raam.

“Hello and welcome to this special episode of Kaafi With Khudawand! Today, we have with us the cast and crew of Spiderman 3. So, ladies and gentleman, please welcome Same Raimi, Toby Quagmire and Kirsten Dunce!”

(Guests walk in and take their seats in the casting couch, while Shaky Kapoor looks on at them with a savage grin from backstage.)

Khudawand Raam (KR): “All right! We start with you, Same. Our audience would like to know why you can’t see beyond Spiderman. You have used the same concept thrice in a row. Why so?”

Same Raimi (SR): “Come on! I thought Indians are smart people! My name—Same Raimi—itself suggests that I love using the same things again and again. I don’t believe in use and throw concepts, and that’s why I hate condoms and syringes. Despite their below-average acting skills, I have used the same cast in all of my Spidey movies.”

KR: “Perhaps Quagmire and Dunce could throw some light over it…”

Toby Quagmire (TQ): Yea! Same is right. He also made me wear the same, worn-out Spidey costume from the previous movies. You must have noticed that in all the three movies it gets torn at the same places.”

K.R: “Dunce…?”

Kirsten Dunce (K.D): “Hmmph…o yeah! Like before, he doesn’t allow me to expose my skin. Once in a while I get to show a little bit of cleavage, but that’s all.”

K.R.: “Same old Raimi, huh!”

S.R.: “You bet!”

K.R.: “Ok! Now let’s talk about the script. Why do we see a Bollywood influence in your movie?”

S.R: “Coz we outsourced it to India!”

“What the f***!”—show producer, Jatin Varma, shrieks out in the backstage. He had sponsored Spiderman 3 tickets for his entire team, a few days back.

K.R.: “You outsourced it? Why?”

S.R.: “See, mate, there are two categories of foreigners coming into India—Indophiles and Paedophiles. We belong to the first category. We love your culture, your music and films. Your films like Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham and Kal Ho Na Ho made the entire American nation cry. Then you have Rang De Basanti, which is being shown in the Australia to induce patriotism in Aussie people. That song Johnny Q from Dil Chahta Hain is still popular there. Of late, we have fallen in love with media baroness, Kicktaa Kapoor. That woman is a genius! She can make her entire crew cry with such effortless ease! That mesmerises us! That’s why we outsourced our script to Vellaji Telefilms.”

“Shit! My coffee…”—Sam Arni, Dy. Editor of Kitsch TV, spills her coffee on her dress, hearing Same Raimi’s Bolly trivia.

K.R.: “Oh I see! How sweet of you! But some of your ardent fans (including me) are of the view that you made this film faute de mieux. You didn’t have enough moolah to finance your project, that’s why you did cost-cutting everywhere. You did not even give Peter Parker a new ring for proposing to Mary Jane. All he got was this old, out-of-shine ring from Aunt May. And you also gave Parker a pathetic place to live. Did you try to portray the conditions of the modern, jobless American when all jobs are being outsourced to Asian countries?”

S.R.: “No man! We love you, Indians! We were following Indian traditions. You pass on your belongings to the succeeding generation in India. We picked up this fascinating trend from your highly popular soap-opera, Kyunki Chaach Bhi Kabhi Dahi Thi...”

K.D.: (Interrupts) “It’s Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi”

S.R.: “O yeah! Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. There, the mothers-in-law pass on their jewellery and a bunch of ugly looking keys to their daughters-in-law.”

K.R.: “How inspiring! I am sure our Indian audiences have understood properly the underlying sentiments of this film.”

(Khudawand turns to face Toby Quagmire)

K.R.: “Toby, tell us why you are stuck with Spiderman. We haven’t seen you in any other film of late. Is your career in a quagmire?”

T.Q.: “Not really, mate. I love playing Spiderman. Man, I am a superhero! I also kissed a hot babe in this movie, apart from Mary Jane.”

K.R.: “Sure you did! By the way, who is that hottie?”

“Aaooh! She is Lolita!”—Shaky Kapoor cries out from backstage.

S.R.: “Now, who is that?”

K.R.: “Oh! He is the chotta sa, pyala sa, nanha sa, baccha of Bollywood, Shaky Kapoor. He is one of the most well-known baddies of Bollywood. Of late, however, he is having a shaky experience with his job, after he got caught up in a “casting couch” quagmire. He wants a job in a Hollywood movie.”

S.R.: “Tell him to meet me after the show gets over. I will need a villain for my next venture, since the Green Goblin episode is now over.”

K.R.: “Shaky, you heard the boss!”

“Aaooh! Aaooh!”—Shaky is pleased!

(Camera angle changes)

K.R.: (To Same Raimi) “Let us talk about some of the flaws in your movie. There is this scene when Spiderman sits on the Church spire, getting drenched in the rain. Next he tries to tear his black suit apart, inside the Church. At that moment, the dejected and jealous colleague of Peter Parker (who becomes the other baddie) enters the Church in broad daylight. What do you have to say about that?”

S.R.: “Well…we were inspired by the K-serials again. Do you remember the scene in one of the episodes of Kyunki Saas...where Karan and Nandini stroll in the garden under a peaceful sky, while Tanya anxiously awaits her husband’s return in the rain? See, these things are common in the industry. Why do you bother?”

K.R.: “Well…and what about Peter Parker’s dance in the bar with the hottie?”

S.R.: “See, we were inspired by a particular song-dance sequence in the popular 1977 Bollywood movie, Hum Kisise Kam Nehi. There, a lovelorn Tariq sings to his love Tum kya jano, mohabbat kya hain. To make him jealous, Kajal Kiran (his love) sings around Rishi Kapoor, Mil gaya, humko saathi mil gaya, hum ko dekh koi jal gaya, oof oof jalne de! A hurt Tariq looks at her tearfully, the same way as Kirsten Dunce looks at Toby Quagmire. By the way, that song was inspired by the ABBA song, Mama Mia. Gone are the days when Bollywood was inspired by Hollywood. Today, we believe in mutual give and take. From nuclear energy to film concepts, India and America are sharing everything between them.”

K.R.: “How enlightening!”

(Suddenly, a man in Spiderman costume enters the studio. He is carrying a spittoon in his hand and his mouth is red with paan.)

K.R.: “Who the hell are you? Why are you here?”

Spidey: “Hamaar naam Makdi Babua ba! Hum tohar tetua dabaane aaya hoon!”

K.R.: “Unmask yourself, stranger! Tell us who you are!”

(Spidey takes off his mask and shows his paan-stained teeth as he grins at the camera)

K.R.: “By jove! That’s our Bhojpuri hero, Rabi Kissan!”

Rabi Kissan (R.K.): “Jai Raam ji ki! Raam raam, Same ji! Raam raam, Toby Bhaiyya! Raam raam, Bhauji!” (All return their greetings)

K.R. “Same, you probably know that Rabi has dubbed for Spiderman in the Bhojpuri version of your film. What do you think about it?”

S.R.: “He’s good! We spotted him in Big Boss, where he used to cry a lot. We thought he would be the ideal person to dub for Spiderman, since our hero is a cry baby too!”

K.R.: “Rabi, you have such an interesting name. Could you explain the meaning of your name to our audience?”

R.K.: “With pleasure! During the entire Rabi season, I farm for films in Bihar, where I am an icon. I spend the Kharif season in air-conditioned sets, shooting for Big Boss. That’s why Rabi Kissan!”

K.R.: “Oh, how interesting!”

(Camera focuses on Khudawand Raam and Same Raimi)

K.R.: “Well, we are in the dying minutes of our show. Let us talk about your next venture, which happens to be Spiderman 4. Who are going to be the lead actors?”

S.R.: “Oh, yes! I can very well assure you the success of my forthcoming venture, Spiderman 4. Peter Parker will be played by the evergreen Hollywood hunk, Richard Gora; Mary Jane will be played by the alluring Bollywood beauty, Shilpa Shitty. They share an amazing chemistry! With their recent sensational kiss in India, they evoked romance and passion in the hearts of millions. I am sure they will give their magic touch (or kiss) to the Spiderman series!”

K.R.: “Are you trying to say that you are doing away with Quagmire and Dunce?”

S.R.: “No, no! They will be there! But they will play father and mother to Parker Jr. (Gora) and M.J Jr. (Shitty).”

K.R.: “I didn’t get it. Don’t you think Quagmire and Dunce are too young to play mummy and daddy to old Shilpa Shitty, and even older Richard Gora?”

S.R.: “Do you think Cezanne Khan (Anurag Basu) and Shweta Tiwari (Prerna) are old enough to parent Jennifer Winget (Sneha)? But it’s so cool! It sells in India, it will sell in America!”

K.R.: “But what about the story? How is it going to be like?”

S.R.: “Actually, Peter Parker and Mary Jane will marry different people. M.J will marry an Indian guy and have a daughter (Shilpa Shitty). It will be Parker Jr. and M.J. Jr. who will marry each other and consummate the unrequited love-story of their parents.”

K.R.: “Oh my God! Do you mean to say that Bollywood-ization of Hollywood is complete?”

S.R.: “Yup!”

K.R.: “All right! Thank you very much, friends, for joining us on this special episode of Kaafi With Khudawand. Please watch Spiderman 3 to see Bollywood triumph over Hollywood. Aaj ke liye itna hi “kaafi” hain! Khuda Hafiz!”


Copyright warning: This article as well as the other posts are property of Kitsch Magazine (where I work, of course). Do not use them without prior permission of the writer and the company (Twenty Onwards Media Pvt. Ltd. New Delhi)

Love Is In The Air

“Fuck you!”—I cried out.

“What?! How dare you! You will not use such objectionable language in my presence! Learn some manners, Raam!”—Supreah retorted back.

Girlfriends….! They can be so difficult at times. God alone knows (does he?) what goes inside the female mind. My girl makes faces every time I use an expletive. And I guess it is true to every Indian woman (I have seen in a few movies that some foreign women also hate men who abuse). It drives me crazy when my girl tries to curb the male natural instinct to swear and abuse. Come on, she should learn to accept that it is the masculine way of life. But hey, I also love her a lot. So, whenever she gets angry, I have to run after her, trying to manao her. Today also, it is my turn to play lovey-dovey to my girl.

“Baby, when I used the F-word, I just wanted you to understand that I want to make love to you. It is such a wonderful day today!”

“That is just not the way to say that to a girl, even if she is your girlfriend.”

“But it is not a bad word, you know. Do you know what FUCK means?”

“Hmmmph….go ahead.”

“See, in medieval England, stringent rules were prevalent. A man and a woman could enter into a sexual relationship only when they wanted a baby. So, whenever a couple decided to have a baby, they had to seek permission from the King. The King used to issue a royal decree, which the couple used to hang from the door while they did the act inside. With time, the acronym FUCK came out, which meant “Fornication Under the Consent of King”.

“Really? I didn’t know that! Wow! I know it is tough to argue with you but I think today you have put your foot in your mouth. As you said FUCK is associated with baby-making, explain the logic behind using that word in our case.”

“I have strong logic, honey. It was an outright proposal for you to think about having a baby with me.”

“A baby? Are you crazy? We are not even married!”

“Dumbo! That was also a marriage proposal!”

“Huh? Is that a way to propose to a girl?”

“You don’t want me to do ambush marketing while proposing to you, right?”

“Ambush marketing? Now where did that come from?”

“Remember the Salman Khan-Revathi starrer film, Love? It was a box-office disaster, but it had a song titled We are made for each other, where different brands were advertised in a random manner. Old Spice, Colgate tooth paste, Nivea cream etc. were some of the brands that featured in that song. That is called ambush marketing. That was the way Salman proposed to Revathi. You want me to do that?”

“Pooh! You smart guy! Do you know how much you irritate me? I feel like banging you sometimes!”

“You are always welcome to bang me in bed! He! He!”

“Very funny! No babies before marriage.”

“I know! I don’t want my child to be called son-of-a-gun”

“What’s that?”

“An illegitimate child is often referred to as son-of-a-gun. The sea-faring English used to take “pleasure women” with them when they were out on long voyages. Very often, a woman used to get pregnant; and when the delivery date came closer, she was sent to gun-powder room, where she could deliver the child, without any interference. From that emerged the phrase, son-of-a-gun. It is an expletive, by the way.”

“Oh shit! When will you stop using expletives?”

“You just used one yourself!”

“I did? Oh shit!”

“Again! But don’t worry, it is not offensive. “Shit” is actually an abbreviation for “Ship High in Transit”. In the olden days, dung manure used to be carried on ships. When the manure dried up, it would emit methane gas that would flare up after coming in contact with the sun-light. Subsequently, the dung was stocked high up in the mast of the ship so that it remained moist. The call for “Ship High in Transit” became synonymous with dung manure. Eventually, it came to be used in its popular connotation.”

“Ok! See, I always use the good expletives. I am good and you are bad!”

“I am?”

“Yes! But I love you that way. You are my baddie buddy!”

“Oh! I love you too! If you are not angry anymore, can we just go and have Britannia Little Hearts? ” (Ambush marketing...he!he!he!)

“Yup!”

“Do you know its punchline?”

“What?”

“Its Love is in the air.”

“Now you will tell me the etymology, right?”

“Wrong! I will tell you that next time! Let’s go now.”

It Happened One Night

I was supposed to go out on a date with a new-found friend on Saturday. Now, when you go out to meet someone for the first time, what are you supposed to wear? I didn’t know that either. So, I called up a couple of friends for help. One of them advised me to wear Jeans, as women love it (according to her). I decided to do some research before trying it out (I had this lame notion that women get “wowed” when a guy shows off his info-base before her).

Jeans has an interesting history. It is believed that the pre-cursor of jeans was an Indian thick cotton cloth called Dungaree. Dyed in indigo, it was sold near the Dongari Fort near Bombay. It was popular among sailors who used to make trousers out of the cloth. Jeans was developed in the island of Genoa for the first time, and is often referred to as “twilled cotton cloth from Genoa”. The first denim came from Nîmes, France, hence de Nimes, the name of the fabric. The French bleu de Gênes, from the Italian blu di Genova, literally the "blue of Genoa" dye of their fabric, is the root of the names for these trousers, "jeans" and "blue jeans", today.

Armed with my sound research, I dressed up for the tete a tete in a pair of Levis denims (the brand name originates from Levi Strauss, a German dry goods merchant living in San Francisco who used to sell blue denims to the miners of the region in the 1850s). The meeting was arranged at the QBA by Night restaurant cum bar at Connaught Place. We ordered Virgin Mary mocktails as a starter. “Do you know why Vodka and Gin are sometimes referred to as The Rapists?”—I was too eager to show off my knowledge database to her, so I wasted no time. She was taken aback by my question. I, like a valiant knight, gave her the answer: “Actually, when you add Vodka or Gin to Virgin Mary, it becomes Bloody Mary cocktail. I guess you can figure out The Rapist connection now! He! He!” I didn’t realise it then that it’s not the right way to start a conversation with someone you are out on a date with. She threw a rather puzzled look at me. “Virgin Mary is obviously the Mother of Lord Jesus; but Bloody Mary was actually a historical character. She was the daughter of Catherine of Aragon (first wife of King Henry VIII) and the elder step-sister of Queen Elizabeth I. She let loose a reign of terror by persecuting the Protestants (of the Anglican Church) and propagating Catholicism in England. Her reign witnessed a lot of bloodshed, and hence, she earned the epithet, Bloody Mary”—I added. My girl was so astounded (apparently) that she almost choked over her drink!

So, the next trivia came with the menu-card. It had separate prices listed against each item offered in the menu. I quizzed her again: “what is the French term for such a menu?” She gave me a blank look. I gallantly replied: “a la carte!” She smiled again. And the saga continued. I gave her all sorts of trivia, the entire evening. Every morsel of food that she ate went with a humble dose of trivia. For example, while she was enjoying her brownie, I told her how the term “brownie points” came into popular usage. I told her that the term derives from the name of a 19th century American railroad superintendent, George R. Brown who, in 1886, devised what was then an innovative system of merits and demerits for railroad employees on the Fall Brook Railway in New York State. Accounts of his system were published in railroad journals, and adopted by many leading U.S. railroads. American railroad employees soon began referring colloquially to "brownie points", and at some point, the term entered the general vocabulary.

My girl clapped her hands, in appreciation (?). She seemed to be bowled over by my intellectual mannerisms (antics, I realised later).

After we were done, we decided to take a stroll around Connaught Place. All the while, I kept on adding up to her info-base about the place. I showed her PVR Plaza and Rivoli and gave them their history (how they were the oldest theatres in Delhi and were owned by the same man who owned Regal Cinema, which used to roll out the red carpet for its audiences).

As the evening came to an end, she surprised me by hugging me tight! Man…that felt so good! I knew that the first kiss with her was not far away. But I was not willing to wait for it. I thought maybe if I gave her some trivia on kissing, she would give me ‘that’ out of admiration. I told her how kissing is an art, and the ‘French kiss’ (I wanted that!) is the best kind of kiss. The name French kiss has nothing to do with France or the French. It is just that the British have a penchant of attaching licentious behaviour with the French. In Victorian England, French kissing was considered to be indecent. But in the 21st century, it is considered to be a cool practice.

After hearing that, my girl pushed me off and paced away to the metro station (out of nowhere a Delhi Metro trivia had popped up in my head, but I chose to ignore it), leaving me behind in a state of awe. I didn’t understand what wrong I said. I was only trying to impress her. Dejected, I too walked away towards the bus-stop.

I was thinking about the whole incident when my cell-phone beeped. It was her sms! “I am so sorry to have left that way. But I am fed up of your trivia-talk. I am not interested in you anymore. You are a librarian’s delight, not mine. Please don’t call me again. Bye.”

Never in my life did I feel so humiliated. Come on, I was only trying to impress her. How mean of her to call me a librarian’s delight! I felt as if someone had hit me below the belt! What do you think, folks? Is trivia so bad? I still don’t think so. Next month, I will tell you how “hitting below the belt” originated. Till then, keep the faith!

Prisoner Diary:Musings of Lord Mani from the CONCENTRATION CAMP

**This is an old post from my personal blog. I thought maybe all of you should read this. Do drop in your comments. It is just a quiz report, however.

Wednesday, the 7th day of June, 2006: I (Lord) entered the CONCENTRATION CAMP at Tintin's place at about 6.30 PM. I was being accompanied by JJ. Perhaps we people are unique in history, as we were the only people to enter a CONCENTRATION CAMP out of our own free will. When we entered the camp, we found two other confines—Tintin and Haddock. Fuhrer was there too. Fuhrer had set up this camp in order to grill us for over two hours with his ingenious torture-devices—twenty different rounds of questions. Now, some of you might ask this question as to why we people went to the CONCENTRATION CAMP out of our own free will. Well, we simply succumbed to the temptation of watching The Fuehrer in action after a long time. Quiz ke liye saala kuch bhi karega!

6.45 PM: Fuhrer laid down the instructions that we prisoners were bound to follow in the camp. He also gave us a brief overview of what was in store for us in the camp.

7 PM: We went for a draw of lots to decide the order of torture. I was chosen as the last to face the music. Tintin was chosen to face the first volley of bullets first.

7.15 PM: Fuhrer starts the session by asking us 15 questions in a row. We scribbled our answers in a sheet of paper. Fuehrer examined them and passed his word: 10 out of 30 to Tintin and Lord; JJ gets 4. It was a bad round for us. We could only answer 5 questions at the most, but since this was the CONCENTRATION CAMP, we couldn't expect a better score. We could imagine our lot at the end of the twentieth round in the first round itself. However, as we proceeded with the rounds, Fuhrer proved our fears wrong.

8 PM: We were done with the audio rounds. Fuhrer once again proved it that his class is entirely different from other Quizmasters. Nobody has ever asked us to identify groups like Foo Fighters in any quiz show in the region. Fuhrer's selection of audio clips was remarkable.

8.15 PM: We came to the first of the visual rounds. Fuhrer had collected some marvellous visuals on which he framed some equally brilliant questions. This time, we were totally bowled over. We did well in the visual rounds.

8.30 PM: Fuhrer now unleashed his most lethal weapon on us—the visual connection round. Fuhrer had made it the toughest round in his quiz. Fuhrer says that the ultimate quizzical strength of a quizzer is known from his performance in a visual connection round.We really had to slog hard in that round, so much so that Tintin and I ended up with headaches.

8.45 PM: Fuhrer now decided to use his entire deadly arsenal at us in the subject round. The subjects Sports, Geography & Nature etc. were no less deadly than the Zyklon Bs and the V2s. Fuhrer once again gave us a glimpse of his in-depth research.

9.30 PM: The last round ended at 9.30 PM. Fuhrer proved it that he means business when he is at the helm of affairs. Nothing short of perfection satisfies him. However, he also proved us wrong by being a not-so-harsh taskmaster (we had thought otherwise).The final score-card read: JJ- 29; Tintin- 150; Lord Mani- 220. Fuhrer proved it beyond any doubt that quizzing is not only a game of asking and answering questions, it is also an art. Long questions, intriguing audio-visuals, hardcore connections and complicated subjects have now become the trademark of us, the Trivia Bytes people. That's the way we quiz in our place; that's the way it will be as long as we are around. Hail Fuhrer! Hail Quizzing! Hail CONCENTRATION CAMP!

N.B. Fuhrer is Abhra da, JJ is Jagat, Haddock is Taheer, and Tintin is Mit.

Shitty Shitty Bang Bang

What are the advantages of travelling by a city bus? You get to see and learn a lot about life. Day to day life. You cannot really imagine what newer things your mundane life offers you every day. You also get an insight into the life of a common man, if you are attentive.

The other day I was on my way to the office when I overheard an “interesting” conversation between two guys sitting behind me. One of them said to his friend in Hindi: “Yaar, kal maine Nisha ki bajaa di…” (“I screwed Nisha”) “What! Our receptionist Nisha? Yaar, how did you do it?”—the other guy was all excited. Honouring his friend’s request, our macho guy started relating his (s)experience to his friend. I was curious to know who this ‘Sex God’ was, so I turned back. By jove! It was none other than “the guy who screwed too much”, Honey Baruah!

Honey Baruah was born in a well-to-do family in Tinsukia (in Upper Assam). Being the only son of his parents, Honey received excess love and affection. His father christened him as ‘Honey’, for he was such a sweet and lovable child! Honey was sent to a vernacular medium school at the age of five. He proved his mettle in studies. In his +2 exam, he got such high marks that he won a scholarship. His parents thought it was the right time to send their son to Delhi for further studies. Honey didn’t want to go, as he was a typical ‘Mama’s Boy’. Nevertheless, all his protests fell into deaf ears; Honey Baruah was packed off to Delhi.

He joined a prestigious college in Delhi where English was the lingua franca. Honey boy, however, was not very comfortable with the language. So, when he was ragged in college, Honey had a tough time handling it. One of his seniors asked him a naughty question: “are you a virgin?” Confused, Honey replied: “No, I am Brahmin!” In the hostel Honey had a tougher time dealing with his roomies cum (tor)mentors, Akashdeep Hazarika and Abhay Gujjar. These ruffians taught him all sorts of verbal abuses apart from giving him important lessons on self-abuse.

Slowly, Honey became used to all that. His mentors one day told him that he could have a real-like (s)experience in a crowded city bus, if he was willing to experiment. Honey was only too willing to try it. As planned, Abhay and Honey took a crowded bus, and Abhay showed him how to stand behind women and rub his nether region on the posterior of a girl. This was too exciting an opportunity to miss! Honey tried the frottage act successfully that day on three lady passengers. Honey Baruah became Horny Baruah!

He soon became a rub-a-dub expert in buses, until one day when desire almost turned into disaster. He was doing his frottage act with a girl when suddenly the girl poked him with a safety pin (mean woman!). Honey winced in pain! Luckily, his horny junior was saved from injury, for the pin only bruised his thigh. Nevertheless, he had learnt a lesson, and decided to leave his favourite sport on a temporary basis.

But our guy was still not a man—he was yet to sleep with a woman. Honey Baruah could not properly communicate in English, and so he was always tongue-tied when it came to talking to girls. This frustrated him quite a lot. Almost everyday he used to spend a long time in the loo, crying over his “self-employed” status.
Honey had a classmate named Debrina Ao. A practising Christian, this God-fearing Naga girl liked Honey. She also understood what made Honey feel so uncomfortable in feminine presence (somehow a woman has this weird power of understanding the needs of the man she likes/loves.). Debrina offered to give him lessons in English. Soon, the guy who used to introduce himself as, “I is Haani Baruah”, was smart enough to say, “That’s a fucking hot babe” when he saw a good-looking girl.

Meanwhile, Honey’s roomies kept on giving him good counsel about how to screw a girl. They told him that the way to a girl’s twat is through her heart. They also egged him on to (s)experiment with Debrina. “You farthead! What the f*** do you think you are doing? Screw that hottie! You don’t have to worry about anything: such hot chicks don’t really mind. Enjoy her and dump her ass”—Abhay Gujjar had an “amazing” knowledge about women! “And I am your friend so give me a share of the kill. Even I have desires…”—Akashdeep was another “thurki” (Hindi slang for a sex-maniac).

Honey impressed Debrina with his honeyed talk. He was able to strum the strings of her heart, but she didn’t know that our horny guy was only looking for a “no strings attached” relationship with her. One fine day, they both hit the couch, and Honey Baruah became a man! This continued for about two months. When he was fed up, he dumped her. Debrina had a nervous breakdown and attempted suicide twice, but failed. She soon left the college and went into oblivion.

Horny boy’s newly found confidence showed up in his dressing sense also. He started wearing his jeans below the waist, flashing his Jockey underwear (the next best thing to naked). His eyes used to amorously talk to girls: “Hey hot stuff! There is “hard” reality beneath my fly!” But there were other contenders too. There were many guys in the campus who applied this method. This battle of the Bulge was difficult to win (the Allied victory at the Battle of the Bulge during WWII was comparatively easier.). The Young Thurks…err…excuse me…the Young Turks in college vied with one another for the best babes.

Nevertheless, Honey did attract a few girls. One of them was Swapnali Bhattacharya. She became interested in him. On their third date itself, Honey made a pass at her that totally blew her fuse. She was a small-town girl and couldn’t really identify with uptown concepts like sleeping with your boyfriend even before knowing him. She avoided him for a week, but couldn’t really ward him off. He kept on stalking her until one day, at the end of her tether, Swapnali gave him a smack on his face in full public view. She also threatened him with dire consequences if he tried to mess up with her again.


The slap toned him down for sometime. He decided to concentrate in his studies and not think about women again. But for how long? As they say, “penis is mightier than the pen”—so, it was time to be horny again!

Priyanka was the next victim. He made her pregnant once (he liked doing rub-a-dub but hated using rubber), and forced her to abort. A broken woman, she informed her parents about the mishap. They flew down to Delhi and decided to take action against the guy. Meanwhile, Priyanka’s brothers came to Honey’s hostel to fix him in their own way. Our guy somehow saved his arse and went underground. In this hour of crisis, his mentors didn’t leave him in the lurch. Abhay Gujjar came up with a mind-blowing plan to deal with the crisis. Following his advice, Honey called up Priyanka and proposed marriage. As expected, the plan worked. Honey’s life was saved from being screwed up!

Within a year, Priyanka was married off to Honey. “Providence”—her parents heaved a sigh of relief! It would have been very difficult for them to get a good match for their girl, as her character was already “stained” by her wanton act. But God was merciful, for they found such a good match for their girl. “At least the guy was honest”—her mother would often say. But was that the right thing to do? Was Priyanka their daughter or their liability? Did they ever try to find out Honey’s background before committing their daughter to him? Who cares, man! Marriages are made in heaven, they say!

Honey’s marriage opened up a world of opportunities for him. He now had a wife (whom he could screw anytime he liked), and his in-laws’ financial support to set up his own business. Once he had a standing in life, his one-night stands also increased. Life was a honey-cake for him now!

The bus’ sudden halt brought me back to the present. A lot of people came on board at Wazirpur Depot. Our Horny Boy (now a Man) rose from his seat, made his way into the thick of the crowd, and stood behind a girl. He was getting ready for a warm-up session, while the radio was on full volume, playing the Red FM 93.5 theme song, “Bajaate Raho” (no wonder that song made him horny!). I realised that Honey Baruah had lost his soul; his morality had died a long time back. R.I.P. (Rust in Piss) Honey Baruah.

Copyright warning: This story as well as the other posts are property of Kitsch Magazine (where I work, of course). Do not use them without prior permission of the writer and the company (Twenty Onwards Media Pvt. Ltd. New Delhi)