Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Man Down

So I was at chilling out at an apartment with a bunch of friends watching a movie over the weekend when suddenly I heard a noise from the bathroom. One of my friends was taking a shower and I swear I heard him call my name. I immediately freaked out.

It might seem like not a big deal but there is really no situation I could think of where a guy friend has to call out another guy's name while he is in the shower. It was a muffled sentence so I couldn't really make out what he was saying but at that time I could only think of three possibilities.

1. He had something he really really wanted to show me.
2. He needed me to somehow help him scrub a part of his anatomy that he couldn't reach, how I did not venture to think further.
3. He was jerking off to the image of me and shouted my name in ecstasy.

I stood there frozen for a while but eventually his calls got louder and louder. Hesitantly , I moved to the toilet door to hear better, and instantly I wished I didn't . He was asking me to open the door. I said I didn't want to, that this was all a bit too strange for me but he begged me to. So I did, and realized his problem - the door was stuck, he couldn't get it open from inside. So I tried to open it , but then it wouldn't . I put all my force in it and it still didn't even make a difference. The lock was truly messed up. So we had to call the locksmith, whose number was conveniently plastered on the front door. He said he will be over in 30 minutes. BTW all this was happening at 2 am in the morning.

So there we were waiting, so I started trying to give some helpful suggestions. I told my friend maybe he could clean the toilet since he was already inside. Also we had paused the movie when this happened, so I told the rest that we could just continue watching the movie till the locksmith arrived but they were appalled I even suggested it which I didn't get. It was not like he was trapped in a cave and running out of air!! Frustrated and bored I went to the fridge and got myself a tub of ice cream. Yes I am a stress eater.

Finally the locksmith came. He looked at the lock and told us that he had to break it and it would cost 100 dollars. It was a tad on the expensive side, so I wanted to see if I can bargain it down to like 70 (I am indian after all) but then I just felt this anger emitting from the other side of the door so we agreed to it. The lock was jammed so the locksmith had to remove it, but he made it seem so effortless, I was actually watching him in awe. The way he prodded the grabbed the knob with one hand and just jamming the pointy end of his really long pointy tool with the other, it was quite impressive.

Finally it came free and my friend was saved. We thanked the locksmith, paid him his due and that was the end of it. We never did finish the movie.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Travel Info: How to get a pre-paid SIM Card in India

I was trying to find out info about this and somehow couldn't find any one site that spelled it out clearly, so I am doing this here. Roaming charges are freaking insane, so if you want to really save on that this is what you do:

Pre-Requisites :
1. Signed letter from your hotel confirming that you are staying there.
2. A passport-sized photograph
3. Details of a local contact in India (Address, Full Name and Contact No.)
4. Photocopies of your Indian Visa and your Passport (the page with all your details)

I only had the first one when I went to the Airtel centre as I didn't know any better. Ended up making 2 additional trips, one to get a copy of my passport and the other to find a photo studio.

That's it. I used Airtel since that was what the hotel recommended, got a cab to drive me to the nearest centre and got it done, you will get your SIM card immediately. It includes data plan as well. I paid around 750 Rupees in total for 650 MB of data and a minimal voice plan thrown in.

The SIM card I got is valid for a year without usage.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Alone I roam (around my room)

In Crowne Plaza Bengaluru all alone.
Far away from the place that I call home.
Came here for a presentation to a civil institution
Found out it was cancelled, where is my restitution?
Been 2 days in the hotel, nowhere to go to.
Roamed around my room , nothing much else to do.
Went to get a local SIM card, the entire process was hell.
Took me 2 hours, no more insane roaming charges thanks to Airtel.
Gonna try get an earlier flight back to Singapore to be with my homies
So I can watch with them Game of Thrones on Fri night , it ain't a party without me.
Calling SQ now , Bangalore office
Wish me luck, peace.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Swapping partners.

I met her a year ago. She was wearing this hot little outfit. It was lust at first sight. She wasn't curvy, although that is usually what I look at first when I meet them. But she had this very sharp look, like she was looking for guys who knew exactly what they wanted from her.

I walked up to her and grabbed her suddenly, my right hand around her midriff. She seemed cold to my touch, colder than I expected. I caressed her back with my fingers slowly. She did not exactly respond to my touch, but neither did she seem to dislike it. But I knew I would eventually bring her around. She felt like she was the ONE. It all felt so right.

We left the place together, my hand still around her. What came after that was what you could call a whirlwind courtship. Like all new relationships , it started off great. We both loved each other and we never out of each other's sight for long. She responded almost instantly to my every need, never complaining nor hesitating. On my end I did everything I could to protect her, I treated her like she was the most precious thing in my life, which she was. We shared memories, some funny , some poignant. We would sit together and browse through our pictures of our adventures together and laugh at the silly things we did and reminisce about the people we met and missed.

But sadly, that happiness didn't last. 6 months after we first met, things started becoming noticeably different. She started to throw tantrums for no apparent reasons at really unexpected times, but these spells were thankfully rare. Then they became much more common, almost daily affairs. It came to a point where I would look forward to the rare day where she behaved normally. She used to almost seem to know what I needed before I even asked her for something, but now it took a herculean effort to make her understand my simplest needs and wants. Maybe I took her for granted, and this was my punishment, I don't really know. At first I got upset and concerned, but then those feelings gradually gave way to anger. I did not deserve this. No one did.

I started to take it out on her in frustration. I was no longer as gentle with her as I used to be, there was no longer that desire to protect her. In fact, I started getting really rough with her. A few times she was left with a few bruises. One day I lost control , and I inflicted an ugly gash on her side. Of course I was horrified when I saw what I had done, but there was nothing I could to take it back. On hindsight, that was the point of no return for both of us, things would never go back to normal.

She withdrew further from me after that incident. She would just not respond to me no matter how much I tried. Finally today I threw in the towel. Life shouldn't be this hard, it was obvious we were both miserable. It had to end.

I went back to that place. There was someone else at that little corner where I first saw her. A sexy curvy little thing. I went up to her, and just like before I placed my right arm around her waist. It felt good. Maybe even better than what I felt the last time. I wanted her. I needed her.

I took her out from my pocket for one last look. She felt so unfriendly, so cold. I knew what I had to do, but I had to give it one last try. I touched her lightly again, exactly the way I did when we first met. No response. I pleaded for her to come back to me, to show any sign of life, to give me a reason to hold on. She just remained silent.

The lady behind the counter stared at me curiosuly at first before running out of patience and telling me to make up my mind, she had other customers to attend to.

Defeated I turned her around. No protest, not even a whimper. I removed her back and took out what was mine, what I had given to her a year ago. It was the only thing left of her that was of any use to me at all.

I left the shop with my new toy. She is really the one. We are going to be together for a much longer time. It just feels so right.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 4

This is the final part of the story. Yes I know I took a while to do this, but reliving that awful memory has been harder than I thought it was gonna be.

So when I stopped last, I had managed , with every ounce of my strength, to walk to up to Bala Subramaniam. He stood frozen, perplexed at how someone could withstand that amount of punishment like I had yet still show some fight.

I knew this was my one chance, before he recovered from his shock. I raised my tiny fists and started pounding them on his chest with whatever strength I could muster. I felt him stagger back. I pushed onward with my fists flailing forward, pressing my advantage.

Suddenly I found myself on the floor again. My ears were ringing and I had this dull pain in my head. I tried to get up , but my legs had given up on me. Then I saw this shadow over me. It was Bala. He started guffawing in the worst way possible, it sounded like the noise a hyena would make after cornering its prey.

"You hit like a girl, Bert. Actually I seen girls who hit way better than you, you freaking loser."

With that final verbal barb and a kick to my already broken ribs, he left.

It took me almost a year to recover from my injuries. I never spoke to anyone about what happened.

I never saw Bala and Raquel again, they left the school while I was still in the hospital. I found out much much later that she had married Bala and the had moved to New Zealand and are now married with 4 kids. I wrote one final poem for her.

Adieu my love, my one and only.
The pain you caused me , I would never wish on nobody
I now fucking hate you, I hope you die
In a car crash or a fire, or me cutting your heart out while you lie
Then I will eat your babies alive, before they even have a chance to cry
Then i will find all your relatives and stab them with my kitchen knife
But not before I sever their limbs first, laughing while they beg for their life.
Damn it, I still love you, despite your evilness and your complete lack of culpability
Come back to me and I will forgive you, we will start over and I promise you , live very happily.

Sadly I never got a reply. I am pretty sure she is miserable now, maybe it's her shame that is stopping her from responding to me like I know she wants to. Oh well, we all make our own choices and we live with the consequences.

Raquel, if you are reading this, one final message from me to you:

It sucks being the only metal fan at a party

It was Rock Band night at a friend's place last night and we had the works, the mic, guitar and drum set. The version of Rock Band was the one with all the rock songs , and I suddenly spied Laid to Rest by Lamb of God on the playlist. After an hour of pleading with my friends to play that instead of bloody Firehouse and Bon Jovi, they finally relented. Of course I had to do the vocals since I was only one who knew the song, but I was more than happy to step up to the plate.

The song started, and I giggled while I watched my less than capable drummer and guitarist tried to keep up with the meaty riffs and the intricate drumming. Yep this was no longer bloody Linkin Park territory, kids. Then the vocals kicked in and I started doing my best Randy Blythe growl, something I have probably rehearsed countless times in the privacy of my own room for the last 5+ years. It was fucking brutal , pardon my french and then everyone started laughing.

I should have expected it of course. To them , I sounded like "Cookie Monster" from Sesame Street. Of course I tried to maintain my pride and continue singing but it was hard to concentrate among the constant laughter behind me. But yes I finally made it through the song and got freaking 83% accuracy on the vocals. I showed everyone the middle finger in true metal fashion and then ran to the bathroom as my eyes were getting all watery from the intensity of my performance. Chew on that you metal haters!!

For reference, here is the actual song :

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Ash-induced Horror

I never really believed in God. Till today.

It's funny how the worst experiences can, in a second, change beliefs a man has held for years.

Per my previous post, I was having a horrid time yesterday. I can safely say it's the worst experience of my life since the pornhub incident. First the mass orgy at Brisbane airport where like a million people were re-directed to after Sydney airport closed down. Then the 1 hour+ wait at a hotel which I am pretty sure wasn't 5 star, maybe at the most 4.2 !! Yes that is what I had to put up with last night.

Today was another hour wait to check-in at the airport. The queue for the commoners was so long that I couldn't even see the end of the line, so I jumped into the priority queue. Immediately a staff member asked me to join the regular queue. I tried to protest, saying I was a Krisflyer Gold member but the staff politely reminded me that I was on Qantas and I was a lowly Bronze member, and ushered me back with the other regular folk. I pleaded with her that in times of crisis like these, she shouldn't differentiate between different frequent flyer members, but she just looked at me with a bemused expression on her face.

That final act of cruelty was the limit. I walked away from her, from the line, giving up my place. For a second, everyone stared at me , shocked but then they all scrambled to fill that gap. I blocked out all the noise, it was deafening. The cries of the children crying asking why they couldn't go home. The cries of an old woman on the ground , wailing that she just wanted to see her son before he leaves for the US for good. The sobbing of the young boy kneeling over his dead mother, who died from exhaustion from all that waiting. I blocked all of them out.

Then suddenly I heard my name being called. I turned and right in front of me was the mother. She had this crazy look in her eyes. She pointed a finger at me accusingly and then uttered a single word. JAS.

At that very second it all made sense. The fact that I couldn't get on a SQ flight and had to settle for Qantas. The less than 5 star accommodation. The cruel refusal to acknowledge my gold status for Krisflyer. I blinked my eyes and the old woman was gone, but she said all she needed to say. This was God punishing me for abandoning my friend in her time of need. This is him abandoning me in my time of need, as a painful lesson on how I had taken my friends for granted.

I joined the regular queue, but I was no longer upset or angry at my situation, a inner sense of peace had taken the place of the rage and discontent. I had realised my mistake and now knew what I needed to do. I will try and get back on Friday night , no matter what it takes. That will be my sole purpose for this trip. Jas, I am sorry. I will make it up to you. Hang in there baby, I am coming.

Stuck in Brisbane en route to Sydney

Sigh thanks to the volcanic ash from Chile , Sydney airport is closed and I am stuck in Brisbane. Endured close to a 3 hour mass orgy at Brisbane airport trying to get through customs since all the flights to Sydney were diverted there. Another 1 hour wait to check in at the hotel that they got for us.

On the positive side, I gotta know 2 Indian guys. What can I say, we Indians gravitate towards each other for support in times of crisis. I tried gravitating to this cute girl in the line at the airport but got the cold shoulder.

Super tired, going to bed now.

Monday, June 20, 2011

A Final Plea

I hate it when I have to break promises. But a week from now I have to break one.

I will be off to Sydney for work next week, and I will miss a friend's event, one that I promised to attend. She is getting her first tattoo, and who else would she want there to be with her than the Stallion himself and the comfort of his manly yet soothing hands to guide her through the ordeal.

I was going to try to get a flight back on Friday night so I wouldn't miss it, but then I realised I would rather spend Friday evening in Sydney than on a plane. So I didn't. I tried asking her if she could have it done at the airport (does the airport have tattoo parlors? if not they should! ) but her only response was one of uncontrollable shrieking. The poor girl, she just cannot imagine me not being there in her time of need.

Jas, I am so so sorry I can't be there. But seriously, you don't need a tattoo, why mess with perfection? Your body is like the Taj Mahal (or the Chinese equivalent - The Great Wall of China), do not defile that beautiful temple with needless ink graffiti. I will admit I have had thoughts of defiling it myself, especially when we first met, but I was a young horny boy then, not the matured respectable gentleman you see now. So heed my plea and get a nipple piercing instead. They are way sexier.

But I know my plea is in vain, so as a final attempt, I will leave you with a poem.

My darling Jas , off to get her first tattoo
This Saturday at some seedy place, I disapprove but nothing I can do
I will be in Sydney, shippingsipping champagne and cavier
She will be screaming in pain , thank god I can't hear that far.
But it sounds sexy, a little black swan on her hip
I have one myself, but it's no tattoo, here's a tip:
It's 4 letters and it ends with ick.
Anyway I should be back the night you are done, so here's what I am proposing
Let's get your swan and mine together and see how they get along, you know what I am saying?

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Bitter Pill.

We looked at each other from across the table, our eyes locked in a battle of wills, but it was a battle I was losing rather too easily. It was all I could do not to bawl in frustration, my fragile male ego slowly disintegrating in the presence of the admittedly impressive display in front of me.

What else could I do but marvel silently at the expert manner in which she maneuvered her way around my balls. There was one moment where I was quite sure she had to touch them, and I smiled in anticipation as I waited for it to happen. But then she proved me wrong, and gave me a little wink in the process. Sigh a woman as beautiful as she is cruel. That's the worst thing you could do to a man - to give him that glimmer of hope, and then at the last minute take it away. I squeezed my rod in frustration, a moment of weakness that didn't go unnoticed but I was at the point beyond caring.

Few minutes later and I was completely outmatched, not like I ever had a chance. She was toying with me the whole time. For once I had to swallow my own pill , and it was more bitter than I ever thought possible. So to all the women with whom I have toyed with in the past (too many to name here), I am truly and sincerely sorry.

The game ended, the outcome never in doubt by either of us or the countless pairs of eyes watching us. I shook her hand and thanked her for the game. She smiled kindly and patted my head, and then she was gone, leaving me to wonder if I would ever see her again. Well actually I will , since I kinda found out where she lives, now it's just a matter of waiting around the area till I "bump" into her.

Till we meet again, beautiful stranger. I am counting the days.

P.S. Jas was there too.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

A Sample Rejection Letter

I have lamented about it before, and I shall do it once again - the English language is slowly dying out thanks to SMS speak. Brevity has taken precedence over eloquence, and I am but one man trying my best to face the barrage of linguistic mediocrity.

Last Sunday, I was supposed to go out with a newly found friend to an outdoor event. To be honest, I was seriously having 2nd thoughts due to the heat wave we been facing these few weeks. Fortunately for me, she called me to cancel for that very reason i.e. it was way too hot. Of course, me being who I am, I decided to have a little bit of fun , hence I penned this message to her via Facebook. Names are removed to protect the innocent.


My heart leapt with joy when I saw your name on my phone, I thought you were calling to arrange a quick rendezvous in the nearby foliage before we go to the event.

Alas, I was wrong. It was a call to break my little heart. A call to say that you would not be there. Because of the heat. I could not believe my ears. Is the heat any more intense than the intense heat that we generate when we meet each other ? If you can bear that heat, why not the one borne of the sun?

All the perfumes and scented soaps I spent on my body today has gone to waste, just to let you know that you missed out smelling a freaking garden of flowers and wild oats today, and that garden is not one you would find in the dairy farm.

As I lay here on my bed, typing in my half-naked state (I was half dressed when you called, which half I shall leave to your imagination) , drops of water are forming on my ample bosom. But tis not drops of sweat, but rather drops of salt water that mysteriously seem to have originated from my face and slowly dribbled down to the space between my rock hard pecs. Yes, tears they are, and you have caused them .

For once , I thought my Sunday would not be spent watching porn in the lonely prison of solitude that is my room. For once, I thought I would be with the most beautiful woman I ever seen (this year) , but again I am proven wrong.

Backdoor Sluts 5, I await thee loving embrace. I come hither. Fare you well XXXX.

Feel free to re-use this for any rejection you might face in the future, as long as you credit me accordingly.

Monday, April 11, 2011

How not to flirt online

Me: It's so hot today.
She: Yes it is.
Me: It is so hot that I wish I could get more naked than I already am.
She: Oh ok. You should take a cold shower.
Me : I did, but the cold water evaporated from my body with a sexy sizzling sound as soon as it hits it.
She: You sound like a hot plate.
Me : Well baby , I could be your dinner if you are in the mood for some steak. Stallion steak. Extra rare and juicy, just the way you like it.
She: I have to go puke now. Be back later.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Move over Bieber, it is Rebecca Black

Where do I start? The auto-tuned vocals? The lyrics that convey the issues of pre-teens everywhere such as whether to sit in the front seat or the back seat of a car. She also helpfully reminds us what are the days before and after Friday. Here is a sample:

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes afterwards
I don't want this weekend to end

Covers of this amazing song is already all over youtube. Here is a really nice acoustic one.

And my fav so far, a hilarious metal version:

Kinda feel bad for Rebecca Black, she's only 13 but she's probably gonna be teased mercilessly in school for this. It is a godawful song despite its insanely catchy chorus, no one would have thought it would have gone viral like it did.

Monday, March 21, 2011

I am LIKE a diseased whore

Note: This is a draft post from 2007. I just completed it and posting it now.

You know you are getting old when your butt starts getting fractured and lumps start appearing around your body. Yes, to affirm that my recent butt issues were no fluke, a huge pimple like structure had appeared on my left cheek. At first I ignored it, hoping that it would go away, but it just got bigger and bigger. In fact, it had gotten so big that I wanted to give it a name. Finally, I decided to do something about it so I went to get it checked out, which meant another visit to the polyclinic.

I got referred to the dermatologist who diagnosed it as a wart. Ugh saying it makes me queasy, isn't that supposed to only happen to old people, you know the kind with the really wrinkly skin who frankly look quite disgusting? Anyway she made an appointment for me to come back to get it removed the following week, which I did.

So there I was the following week at the clinic in the morning, and after a 5 minute wait I was lead into this room by a nurse, where I was told to lie down on this long operating table. A rather young doctor then came in and introduced herself and explained that she will be burning off the ward with one of their instruments that looked like a hot iron. It would be quick and painless, and I should be out of there in 30 minutes. She was kinda cute, I should ask her out after this was over, I thought to myself. Oh wait , she's removing a freaking wart from my face.

As I was prepping myself for the ordeal I realized the doctor had one of her blouse buttons loose. I was lying down at an angle where I had a pretty nice view of her assets constrained by a bra that looked way too small. Of course I immediately looked away , being the gentleman I am , but before I could, she caught me. Her face twisted in disgust , but being a true professional that she was she didn't say anything , nor let me explain that she caught me in that microsecond before I looked away.

She readied her little needle pumped with local anesthesia and without warning jammed it into the soft tissue that was my left cheek. (Face not butt). The pain was almost unbearable but was gone in an instant. But there was something in her eye that told me that was not the only pain I was going to feel that day.

She spun away from me , and after a few minutes she turned back with a heating rod. She asked me if I was ready, and before I could nod my head she placed it on my wart. I immediately smelt burning flesh, and eventhough it was mine, it wasn't that bad a smell, a bit like barbequed pork.

So there I was , smelling my own burning flesh and feeling hungry since I didn't have lunch, they told me not to. It went on for around 15 minutes, but suddenly I started feeling this intense pain and I flinched. Her response was "oops, I guess I didn't put enough anesthetic". Yep she was getting back at me for my little peeping tom act, I was sure of it. I made a mental note never to peep at a doctor with equipment that could possibly hurt you. She signaled to the nurse who provided her with another needle, she jabbed it again into my cheek like as if she was testing the tenderness of a steak, and she was resumed her burning.

Another 5 minutes passed, and then it got weirder. She went "hmmmmmmm..." . I don't know about you but hmm is not something you wanna hear from a doctor who is operating on you. Weird ideas started popping into my head and I started imagining what she might say, maybe something like:

"Hmm ..Gilbert, guess what! You have a twin brother whom you absorbed into your body while you were a fetus. That was what I was trying to burn this last 15 minutes"

She stopped what she was doing and whispered something to the nurse who then left the room. I asked her what was going on, but she told me to be calm, and that the senior doctor would be in shortly, apparently what I had was NOT a wart.

So there I was freaking out, wondering what the hell the thing on my face was. Thankfully my wait was short, this old dude (aka the senior doctor) came in 3 minutes later. He looked at my cheek, and then they started having this medical discussion. I hate it when doctors have THAT discussion, the one where they use all this bombastic latin words that normal people don't understand. It went something like "Apropos, it seems like a mea culpic distension , le sa vie?" Incredibly annoying.

Finally they turned to me and explained. It was a cyst not a wart. They had to do a different procedure, basically have to operate and dig it out, and they needed my consent to do so since it was different from the original procedure. They handed me a piece of paper which i assumed was a consent form and asked me to sign it. Bear in mind this is all happening while I was on lying on the floor with half my cheek burned off. I scribbled something resembling my signature and begged them to finish it.

An hour later it was over. Now the only thing that remains of that day is that scar on my cheek. Of course I tell chicks it's from a knife fight when I was trying to protect a woman from a robber.

Seafood dinner on Thursday

My third seafood dinner in a space of 2 weeks
It would be completely awesome except it's the one thing I don't eat
Nibbling on my seafood fried rice while everyone else gorges on crab
Their moans of pleasure anger me, I silently wished they all get fat
Then it got worse, someone brought up Raquel
Got reminded of school, begin reliving my personal hell
My trauma turned to horror when they started laughing at a joke about limbless women
Empathy is obviously not an emotion that my friends could never ever learn
At a table surrounded by beautiful nymphets, came the realization I was completely alone.
Looked away into the distance, in the shadows was a crow picking slowly on a chicken bone.
It stopped suddenly and looked at me, I could swear it felt my despair
Then it flew away , but not before giving me a sympathetic nod , as if it was telling me it cared.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Completely Manly Poem for a Friend

You came to my life in January this year.
Always so well dressed, but I would too if I lived so near
You brought joy to my miserable life, and I thank you for that
But just as quickly you announced you have to go, that just makes me so sad.
Why do you need to leave , stay with me I asked
You said it was fun while it was lasted, but I should have known it was never gonna last
I am not looking forward to going back to how it was before you came
How can I now? As much as I lie to myself it would never be the same
But your mind is made up, I am not gonna fight you on this
Good luck and keep in touch, our short time together I shall forever miss

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 3

I woke up in a pool of blood. My own blood. It was pitch dark around me, I could only guess at how long I was unconscious. 5 hours, maybe 6. My hands were empty, the letter nowhere to be found. I pushed my palms against the floor and tried to get up but my arms just collapsed from under me. Helpless and cold, I wailed out the one thought in my mind. Raquel's name.

The sound of a chair suddenly interrupted my wailing. I looked around again, my eyes starting to adjust to the darkness , and I realize there was someone sitting in the corner of the room. Raquel!! She must have stayed!! She stood up and walked over to me silently. I managed to muster all my strength to lift up my head and look at her. It was not Raquel. It was Bala.

"You know Bertie, your poem was damn good hor. So good that I got date with Raquel because of your poem, don't play play. So thank you ah!"

Maybe it was the blood loss, but I couldn't fathom what he meant. "What are you saying Bala Subramaniam!! What did you do!!?" I screamed.

"Come on la, I thought you so smart one, you still don't know meh, I switched your letter with mine la, ha damn slow lor you."

So that was what happened. He switched my really eloquent letter with his own, probably one with full of vulgarities and even worse, horrid grammar. No wonder she slapped me. The thought filled my entire body with rage, and by some miraculous effort I stood up. Bala stood stunned by this show of strength from me and for a second I detected a hint of fear in his beautiful blue eyes. I walked slowly towards him , every step felt like a dagger through my entire spine, but that pain was nothing compared to the rage I felt inside. It was as if my entire insides were on fire and I needed to let it out.

(To be continued)

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Proof that I take my movie choices very seriously

This is a message I sent to my friends after we went to watch Adjustment Bureau which was the worst pile of crap I seen in a long while. Although the initial choice of the movie was not mine, I humbly and selflessly took the bullet for a loved one, as the mob we went to watch the movie were looking for someone to blame.

My friends,

I apologize for the debacle of last Friday. I take full responsibility for the movie choice, please do not blame R*****, my unwitting accomplice. If there is someone you need to hang on the cross let it be me . Even the best of us make mistakes sometimes, and I made a grave one last Friday. I cannot and will not offer any excuses, I should not have assumed that Matt Damon would never act in a bad movie.

However I hope we can move on from that very unpleasant episode. I would like to invite you all to a viewing of Rango starring Depp. We saw the trailer last week , and it seems to have some funny moments and the animation is impressive.

What say you my friends? Will you give me another chance at redemption. Or am I fated to hang on the proverbial cross for eternity? I will let you decide.

Not to toot my own horn, but Shakespeare would have been proud of that prose. Alas, the response to my amazingly eloquent yet heartfelt message was sadly disappointing. But I can't say I am surprised, in a world of sms-speak and LOLs it is obvious that the art of good writing is slowly writing. FML.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 2

So there I was, laughter ringing around my ears. But then there was one laughter that was louder and more cynical than the others, and it came from right behind me. I turned around and it was no other than Bala Subramaniam, my 7 foot arch enemy.

Bala Subramaniam is a boy who has been making my life hell the last 4 years. He was a dim-witted rugby player who found my interest in chess and poetry disgusting for whatever reason, and bullied me constantly. I looked up at the man mountain defiantly, daring him to make a move. It is a foolish man who tries to provoke a wounded animal, but Bala Subramaniam was a foolish man.

We locked eyes for the longest time , and then it hit me. He must have done it. He must be responsible for what happened. I looked back at Raquel and I noticed the letter was lying next to her on the floor. I immediately ran towards her but before I could grab it someone shoved me to the ground. Then suddenly I was surrounded by boys who started to kick me as I lay screaming on the ground. They must have thought I was trying to hurt Raquel .

The blows rained down and I let out a cry of pain each time they hit , but I kept crawling towards Raquel. I could feel bones snapping in my body and my eyes started to swell shut from the blows to my face. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally managed to reach Raquel, she was but an arm's length away. I stretched out and grabbed the letter with my bloodied hand. And then everything faded to black..

(To be continued)

Saturday, March 05, 2011

Pick Up Line I used yesterday

I helped a friend carry her laptop bag while she went to the ladies. When she got back, she asked me why the bag felt heavier and whether I put something in it.

I replied without missing a beat.

"Yes I did. My heart."

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Why I did not become a writer.

I had a few people telling me that I should have been a writer. Interestingly, that was my dream growing up. But then something happened that shattered my dream....

It was the summer of 95. I was a handsome young Indian boy with a love for romantic poetry and chess. She was a girl named Raquel. She had the most beautiful hair and a really big personality. Inspired by her grace and beauty, I wrote her a poem.

It was the best poem I ever wrote. In fact it was probably the best poem anyone has ever written. It was so good it made blind women cry , as well as regular women. I was ready to give it to her. I placed the poem into a nice little pink envelope and kept it under my desk and waited for the end of the session.

When class ended, I took the envelope and went over to where she was, and passed it to her confidently. She asked me what it was , I told her to read it and sauntered back to my desk.

As I sat down, I watched her open it and start to read it. Just as I expected, tears started rolling down her eyes, she was obviously moved by my eloquence. Then she started sobbing , which was a much stronger reaction than I expected. Her friends started going to her and asking her what was wrong.

Then she turned around and pointed to me. Her eyes.....they were full of hate. She got up slowly and walked up to me. I started to ask her why she was upset but before I could do so, I felt her hand across my cheek. Stunned, I looked at her perplexed. She then told me never to talk to her again. I staggered back , not knowing what just happened.

to be continued...

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Room

What is the Room you might ask? Well the right question to ask is what it is not. It is not just a tale of a love triangle between a man , his best friend and his "future wife". That would be akin to saying that Inception is a movie about dreams.

Tommy Wiseau , the multi-talented writer/director/producer/actor/genius, takes this deceptively simple story and places it in an alternative reality. It is pretty subtle and you might miss it , but he hints at this by having characters an a plot that completely ignore any social norms in the way they move, speak or behave.

This is an alternate reality where

1. People dress up in tuxedos for no apparent reason and play football.
2. An adopted son/ward tries to watch his "parents" have sex.
3. People have sex by thrusting their penis at the female's belly button.
4. Anger is expressed by getting into a half zombie/half Hulk trance and pushing over random objects including bowls of plastic fruit.
5. Coffeshops provide free coffee.
6. Conversations include quick and jarring changes in subject matter , ie switching from banking to asking about a friend's sex life.
7. Friends show up unannounced at a friend's apartment and start having sex in their living room.
8. There are love songs where the chorus is basically the same phrase is repeated ad nauseum - "I will" repeated 16 times in the first song, "You are my rose" is repeated god knows how many times in the second.
9. There is no such word as fiancée, it's called "future wife".
10. Finding out you have breast cancer is not a big deal.

That is only some of the social conventions that Tommy mercilessly massacres in this amazing film. But they all pale in comparison to his acting in this movie. In this alternate reality, his character seems to have suffered a head injury that makes him speak in a manner that has to be seen to be believed. He speaks like no man has ever spoken before, on film or real life.

There is NO scene in this movie that is wasted, every one of them will leave you with questions and doubts about what you just saw.

I fear that whatever I mentioned so far does little justice to this movie. It is something you have to watch for yourself. Trust me, you will not regret it. I have seen it 3 times, and I am still amazed. The Room. It grabs you and never lets you go, even when you want it to.

My V day experience

I waited staring at the phone. I couldn't remember how long I been staring at it. A couple of hours? No it must be more, I remember the sun shining brightly outside my window, but it was already dark. But still there was no call.

My stomach was rumbling in protest at the lack of food and my throat was all parched and dry, but I dare not leave my room. What if he calls and I miss it during that 5 minutes that will take me to quench my thirst or fill my stomach? (K on hindsight I could bring the phone with me but I was too hungry/thirsty to think properly)

The clock's minute hand seemed to barely move, it's like time has almost crawled to a stop. Every minute that passed felt like an hour. Finally, I gave in . He wasn't going to call.

Just as I was going to stand up to go to the bathroom, the phone rang. I picked it up with my trembling hands , not daring to even hope that it was him.

It was him.

"Hey beautiful, happy Valentine's day."

Such sweet words. Yet I could not help but fall prey to them. All my anger dissipated once I heard them. But I could not resist a little barb.

"Happy Valentine's Day G***n. It's nice to know you remembered, although I wasn't even expecting you to call. Especially at such a late hour."

"Sorry , I was busy the whole day with work, i would have called you earlier if I could. Anyway do you wanna go watch Blond Redhead, I couldn't get anyone else?"

So that was why he called. He needed someone to go with him to the concert and he thought he could use those sweet words to entice me to go. Men. Such pigs they are. They only call you when they need something, otherwise it's like you don't even exist.

I tried to stop my tears but they kept rolling down my cheeks.

"I am sorry, but I don't really like the band, they are too dreamy for me. Goodbye."

I hanged up the phone before he could hear my voice crack. It was a lie of course. I freaking love blonde redhead. But I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he still had that hold over me. It took me all my willpower to switch off my phone, I didn't wanna risk waking up in the middle of the night and texting or calling him involuntarily.

Happy Valentine's Day G***n. I hope you find someone to go with.

Friday, February 11, 2011

I hate it when people try to scam my low level staff

It's been an open secret that I have been moonlighting as the Head of IT of a bustling startup the past 2 years. Under my guidance, this little company has flourished beyond my wildest dreams and is finally achieving what I knew it was capable of when I first decided to invest what little free time I had in it.

Recently, one of the low level staff in the company had an issue with her new Mac , she couldn't get it to print from the company printer no matter how hard she tried. She checked with her vendor who provided the said laptop, and he basically said that it was due to the incompatibility of her mac with the company printer, and that she should just buy a new printer for a 140 dollars.

Of course, she had to revert to me to get approval as this is an IT purchase. My keen IT senses kicked in , and I immediately felt something wasn't quite right. I checked the printer model and found out that it was a supported model for her mac. Here was an asshole who was just trying to scam money off one of my poor unknowing low level staff!!

Despite my lack of any free time, I cancelled one of my high level meetings that evening and tried and troubleshoot to issue. After half an hour of troubleshooting I realised that there was some conflict with a huawei mobile broadband driver which stopped the printer drivers from installing correctly. Removing the offending folder from the OS solved the issue.

My low level staff ( I don't know her name cos I don't really need to) thanked me profusely and I could swear she had a tear in her eye as well. It's moments like this with the little people that make my job so much more satisfying, I accepted her thanks and told her it wasn't a big deal.

I might have lost like 200k from that meeting that I cancelled to solve this issue, but sometimes money isn't everything. It's about not forgetting that there are low level people working under you that you should interact with once in a while, just to re-assure them that you are just like one of them.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Ode to Nethia (She demanded it cos I had one about Steph)

Amazing trip I had last week.
Never thought Perth could be so fun , in spite of the sweltering heat.
Saved money on rent, bunked in with my mate.
But I had to sleep on her floor, she refused me a space on her huge bed.
Silently I endured, so many sleepless nights.
The worst was the cold hard stone floor, even worse than the rats I had to fight.
She whined and complained, said my snoring woke her up constantly.
Well it's not like I can control it, so excuse me!
For breakfast everyday, I got Kelloggs Special K.
With some leftover "fresh" milk if I I was willing to pay.
Oh there was one day where I got bacon and eggs, it was so deliciously fine
Only because I bartered in exchange a nice bottle of Margaret River wine.
Alright alright I am only kidding, she was the perfect hostess.
Pampered me so much that I was starting to feel embarrassed.
Damien too was so friendly and nice, I liked him so much it was bordering on lust
In fact we had a moment during dinner one night but Nethia caught us so we had to let it pass.
They took us to watch a play at King's Park
A Shakespearian one, with a cameo from a few nearby ducks.
Romeo took his shirt off, I kept waiting for Juliet to strip as well
Cos she was pretty hot , so I was really hoping to see her bells.
Margaret River was awesome too, spent 2 days visiting the wineries
Never thought just sampling wines could make me as tipsy as it made me
I know I said it before , but I will say it again
It was an amazing trip, thanks to the company of a few great friends.
One of whom I am already starting to miss, k before I get emo, the end.

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

Attack of the Giant Sea Bird of Fremantle

You would think from the title that this was some lame ass fantasy or dream that I had but you would be wrong. This actually happened to me in Perth last week.

I was with 3 friends at Kailis's along Fremantle (great fish and chips by the way) when they decided to go for a smoke. As the only non-smoker (I quit after a trip in Thailand), I decided to stay and guard the food as they puffed their lives away. Immediately a flock of sea birds (i don't know if they were gulls) sensed my vulnerability after being left alone, and immediately attacked the food. I swatted at them continuously , sustaining some injuries myself on my arm, but I managed to stave the hungry birds off.

Then suddenly, a huge shadow enveloped our table. As I looked up, all I could see was this huge shape hovering above me. And then that shape took a seat beside me. It was the biggest bird I ever saw , the seat barely contained its weight. It stared at me for what felt like eternity, its unblinking eyes full of hate and evil. I didn't have many options, so I just sat still and stared back at it. And then it opened its mouth, revealing fangs. Yes the damn bird had freaking fangs!!

I didn't know what to do. The bird started to inch closer towards me. My life literally flashed in front of my eyes. It was almost beside me now, I could feel its hot fangy seagull breath in my ear. I closed my eyes, this was it.

And just like that it was gone. I opened my eyes and saw my friends coming over. I guess it must have seen them and got scared or something. Or maybe it only kills when no one is around. I do not know. I told my friends what happened, they just laughed.

And that is the story of my experience with the giant sea bird of fremantle. If you have had similar encounters, let me know. I need to know that what I saw was real, that I wasn't imagining it at all.

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Romeo and Juliet

Yesterday a play I went to see
With 5 others, we set off merry as can be.
One of the 5 caught my eye, this really beautiful lass.
A girl of 15 years young, I believe her name was Steph.
Tried as hard I could do to win her favor but it was not meant to be
Every trick in the book, hell I even offered her candy.
The play started, but my heart was not in it.
Halfway through Romeo took his shirt off, thought it was tad conceited.
But he had a nice bod, Steph seemed to think so.
Never thought she was so shallow, what happened to the gal I used to know?
A great chill then filled the grounds, I couldn't help but shiver.
My body heat I wanted to offer that little girl, but I knew she longed for the body of another.
So there I sat, cold and alone.
In king's park,  so far away from home.
The play finally ended, everyone got up and left.
I sat there, still waiting for the return of my dear Steph.

Friday, February 04, 2011

Margaret River

Hungry, I wait patiently in my room.
The 2 others I came with, I am afraid they will only wake at noon.
Watching TV,  reports on the queensland cyclone.
Pretty scary, if this happened in perth I would have gone home.
A quick breakfast and to the wineries we go.
Free samples at each one, it is pretty much free flow.
After lunch, a long car ride back.
On hindsight,  should have extended our stay here, but oh well too bad.