and i wrote a poem

and i wrote a poem

you know, it never rhymed

it had no meter

it did not have that zing

then i sat down

and decided to make it rhyme

but the words that the dictionary threw

didnt make sense to me.

i wanted to say something.

and i didnt want to say it long and boring.

so i chose to say it short. like nice and short.

maybe poetry was the way to go about it.

see, even everything i have written so far

doesnt resemble poetry nor prose

but i think its more accurate about everything that i want to say

like the previous sentence is long

and this one’s not.

bad.

the joy lies not in measuring my words or the rhymes

i know that is a skill.

a skill so beautiful.

but you know what

i never understood what they

ever tried to tell.

like look at the freedom i have

just freaking out

doing what i want

anything i please.

like the i before this sentence should have been an ‘I’.

but i dont give a damn.

randomly

i break the sentence

and move to the next

making you believe

like its some great poetry,

but i haven’t had such fun

ever before

see. I put a full stop now…..and somewhere up above I put a comma

where it makes sense I know noT. Yes. just like that.,

I made that T a cpital. And missed the a in that.

Which? that, ya that.

when grammar nazis focus more on whats being said

than proof chekcng this crap.

they;; ll understand the true joy of expression

but

how can they?

they’re busy checking the grammar, the rhythm, the meter, the spellnigs

and everything else that this poem is not.

 

Advertisements

Gaand mein Ghusedh doonga

me and my moods.jpg

As I stare at Amazon Prime and Netflix and various other sites like Viu, Voot, Zoot, Loot…etc…I make some calculations, and take my bet for the night. My fingers randomly click on yet another new series. I patiently and nervously wait for it to buffer, till it goes ‘oops something went wrong’.

I ignore the warning and go for it bravely again.

12 minutes after the titles fade, I am taken into the same world, in the same grade, in the same dimly lit gullies of Haryana, UP, Bihar or somewhere in that belt, where someone is belting someone, and belting out a dialogue like ‘Gaand mein Ghusedh doonga’. He has the customary ‘Ghoda’ tucked away close to his crotch. I know he’s going to pull it out right now, and ‘ah so nonchalantly pull off the trigger, like so unexpectedly…without batting an eyelid…so that I can go…’oh fucking shit! What the fuck happened types!!!!’ and jump on to the edge of my seat with 4 exclamation marks, spilling my popcorn.

Like I didn’t see it coming.

I wish I reacted like that. I want to continue to have the ability to react like that. But fucking crap, all I did was I got up and went to pee. I didn’t even pause it.

Not because I was shit scared…I just wanted to pee.

I had become numb.

As I was peeing, I kept hearing the dialogues of some pent up writer going ballistic…venting out every single gaali he had carefully nurtured and crafted over the years, thrilled that his time has come, where he can now shit out dialogues from his pichwada, proving that he’s the true ‘mai ka laal‘, from a hinterland that’s yet to be featured on the Indian map.

Now I start to get scared. Shit scared. Because I knew that if I continued watching this shit, I knew I have to set aside a huge portion of my brain. to accommodate close to 1027 characters who are going to be launched in the next 8 episodes, each with their own strange quirks and nanosecond backstories.

This is over and above the 1732 characters I am dealing with in real life.

I went back and pressed pause as the protagonist was removing his Ghoda or Tamancha or Katta or whatever else the fuck you call it in those belts.

It was decision making time. I already have too many things in my head that can send me to dizzying spaces.

Is this one more thing that I need?

Because I knew pressing the un-pause button means a hell lot..I will now have to follow some random guy who is pretty incoherent and random in most things he does. He’ll not emote regularly (like most of us). Like I know he won’t cry when something bad happens and certainly won’t laugh when something happy happens. He’ll mostly walk around emoting strange emotions which takes an effort to understand because, remember, he has a nanosecond backstory.

Also yes he is going to speak modern day muhawaras in strange dialects with peculiar metaphors, in poorly lit gullies.

And from the shadows of these sunsaan gullies and flickering bulbs, characters will emerge one by one, carrying Ghodas. And at any point in time they could fire. Drug peddlars, cops in mufti, prostitutes, transvestites, politicians, goons and a million other mind-fucks who are both good and bad, supported by author-backed roles and method acting, all set to inhabit your densely populated brain. So I have to watch out carefully who fired whom, and for what?..or else, I will lose the plot. So I know I’ll have to pay close attention. Because the gun is going to fire for sure, with no rhyme or reason. Or more accurately, the rhyme is going to be in episode 2 and the reason will be revealed in the sequel.

I’m scared.

Do I have the space in my head for this?

That’s the only shit I’m thinking, as a rerun of my favourite movie is freely hanging around on Youtube, with no takers, feeling so outdated. With 4-5 basic characters in a regular ‘run-of-the-mill’ plot. But yes, it seems so tempting because I know my brain only has space for these cliches. Giving me all the liberty to doze off/ tune out/ blur away/ watch with one eye…do whatever I feel like..but I know I’ll still make it to the end.

Should I do that

OR

Should I go for this Mensa challenging mega-series?

A chilling algebra algorithm. Where every 13 minutes a new character is introduced. Where every action and line of ‘his’ or ‘her’ or ‘it’ can connect 16 dots in the plot that’s in progress. Where even the background action is important because a random character lighting up a beedi in the background will soon be in the centre of things adding a unique twist to the tale. Fuck that..even the beedi’s ash is going to play a role sooner or later…demanding complete ‘front bench attention’.

My brain warns me giving me an actual picture of how under-equipped it is to handle all this madness. As it is, all these characters right from Satya to Sacred Games have now merged and become one big gang residing in one giant locality in my head. They are now walking in the same gullies, spitting the same Vimal pan masala and spewing the same garbage, and now this locality has spread and extends all the way from Mirzapur to Mexico. Except that, the chap in Mexico spits the end he’s bitten off a Cigar…and here locally, the guy thookhofies some Gutka wrapper.

With these minor nuances, I am supposed to give them unique distinction in my brain.

My brain is crying, saying…..

“dude..don’t ask me to remember who is from where and saying what, specially when you are in those drunken conversations. I don’t know what I am processing anymore…so I’ll just pull out anyone from anywhere. And at that point, because they are all right now criss-crossing freely in here, it could be Bhiku Matre in Badlapur or Gaitonde in Ghana. Don’t blame me..because it’s a mess out here…there are now close to 9438 people walking around doing the same things. Walking, shooting people and speaking cool cool lines after that…ya…all so nonchalantly. So anyone could be with anyone, anywhere, at any point in time. Just warning you. So if you’re going to binge watch this shit…be prepared. Because when you sleep, I’m going to take all these characters who are till now separated in shades of grey and merge them into tones of sepia.”

I ponder for a moment. And then open youtube, and watch Aamir selling black tickets in Rangeela. One guy asks him ‘corner ka hai na?’ and he replies ‘ekdum corner ka..ek yeh corner ka..ek woh corner ka’.

I laugh out loud. Like I didn’t see it coming.

PS: This crap above doesn’t deserve a copy check. Fuck that..it doesn’t even deserve a read.

 

2017!! A random round up.

Since everyone is doing a round up, even I feel like doing a round up. But a round up of all things that i liked and hated. Movies, music, scenes and whatever other crap that comes to my mind as I type. Why? Because I’ve taken it upon myself to very strongly shove my opinion down people’s throats. So here are the things I discovered in 2017, even if they existed before that.

The thing that has me hooked and will have me hooked for the rest of my life, or his, is the podcast ‘Cyrus Says’. You’ll find it on apple podcast or simply type Cyrus Says on Google and keep clicking, it will take you somewhere. He’s clearly proved it to the world that he is the greatest comedian ever. Even after this nation has started giving birth to 18 stand up comedians every single day. He’s back, and he’s here to beat the crap out of everyone. In one of them he says ‘i just don’t understand why stand up comedians take their profession too seriously’. He interviews people who are kinda famous or getting there, and asks them a question every 30 seconds cutting them off the minute they get boring. And then he talks riveting rubbish. Actually, this is all you might need for life. The rest of this list doesn’t matter.

But you can check out Mani’s Kaatru Veliyidai. It’s not a very great movie. But the cinematography is mind blowing. This Ravi Varman is the new Santosh Sivan. Karthi was absolutely the wrong choice for the film, though I thought that that would be Aditi Rao..but she’s quite cool. And yes Rahman’s background score. If you feel like getting goosebumps then catch his interview with Arnab on Republic. If you don’t get goosebumps visit a dermatologist.

I thought Kriti Sanon didn’t seem too convincing as a small town girl when I saw the trailer of Bareily. So I didn’t bother watching the movie. Then I happened to watch it. Because I suddenly became a fan of Rajkumar Rao. After having watched Trapped. Trapped is not the best movie of the year. It is one of the best Indian Movies of all time. This fucker is a genius. I was sitting on the edge of my recliner. He then made me watch whatever crap he was in. Including an interview with him and Dulquer Salman (who I have become a big fan of)..(type Dulquer Rajkumar Mami on youtube).  Both these guys are absolutely brilliant and extremely articulate. So aah..Rajkumar Rao made me watch Bareily ki barfi. This movie comes from some absolutely fresh space. Supremely original and highly entertaining. Kriti was actually quite good. That woman Seema Pahwa needs to urgently be given an oscar. Infact they should have given it to her after Aankhon Dekhi itself. Rajlkumar Rao should be given nothing. Because I am scared it will go to his head and he’ll start making bad films. Like Kangana. So he should continue doing whatever he’s doing. Like Newton. Another awesome film. I loved Newton, but cerebrally. Like I know I am watching a very well made movie.

Ya like it’s being talked about a lot now, it’s time for the small time movies I guess. And small town. Small town is the new Switzerland. Like Japanese whisky is the new scotch. I have one bottle for which I paid an amount that I dare not tell my wife. And I hope it never gets over. And yes…there’s this other super small time movie which is not a perfect film..but it should not be, otherwise it would have never been that endearing. A movie made by a bald nobody ‘ondhu motteya kathe (the story of an egg)’. It’s a kannada movie on Netflix about this ugly bald guy who is unable to find a partner. I think Hrishikesh Mukherjee ghost directed this from heaven. Charming. hilarious and emotional. The second half gets a bit predictable but so what? We all knew what the ending of Sholay was going to be right in the beginning.  It has that good old days charm and vibe in its storytelling.

For good old days charm, The HMV Caravan Radio is cheapest way to purchase happiness. I bought the hindi and the tamil set. The tamil one has almost all the devotional and carnatic tracks that anyone has ever sung in their lives. My parents now take it to the bathroom, and even sleep with it on. Also listen to Riya’s Retro on Gaana. She has the most mesmerising voice. Switch it on, specially her talk with Gulzar, after a fat indian lunch, and remain immobile under the fan rotating at speed 2. Maybe for variation you could listen to Kahaani Express with Neelesh Mishra on Saavn. He’s a guy who narrates some middle class stories with actual live sounds as he’s narrating. He sends you on a trip.

And for good old times sake ‘The 80s India and 90s India’ docu on Netflix is one hell of a nostalgic trip. It’s like reliving your life all over again (for old farts like me). And if you want mindblowing soundtrack also, then watch “Sachin a billion dreams’. Awesome trip.

Just today I discovered this book that my wife got for my daughter. “Goodnight stories for rebel girls’. What a fucking concept. It’s the largest crowdfunded book or some such thing. It’s got stories of all the kickass women crunched down to a page, that reads like a bedtime story. Everyone from Rani Lakshmi Bai to Coco Chanel to Cleopatra to Mary Kom to whole bunch of other real killer women from all walks of life. Brilliant. Inspiring. Also since I like random stuff about things nothing in particular ‘Name place animal thing’ by Mayank Shekhar is also a good book about random shit.

By the way, if you have a dog and live somewhere near Jayanagar go to this cafe called SlimSins Cafe, a pet friendly cafe. It’s very tiny but has a huge heart. And some cool dishes with all dog loving people. And follow ‘Oota from your thota’ on facebook. An exhibition that happens every month in various parts of Bangalore. Stalls that sell gardening stuff, organic products and other interesting farm produce. And vaguely related things like pencils that have seeds in them. Or tumblers made from elephant dung and shit like that.

Oh..and if you have a dog and you live in Bangalore, and you still haven’t been to the Elephant Pond, near Bannerghatta, your dog must be pissed off with you. It’s that place where people who don’t own farmhouses but have dogs that dream of being in one, go to. Here dogs can run around freely or maybe even take a swim in a muddy pond that was once upon a time visited by elephants. While you lay horizontal on some hammocks. And it costs close to nothing. Wait!! You are not allowed there without a dog.

And if you are a whisky drinker and generally poor, Rockford Whisky is not bad. It has a nice smokey charcoalish kind of taste to it.

Short films ‘The affair’ by Hardik Mehta and ‘The juice’ by Neeraj Ghaywan were cutting edge.

That’s it. If I feel like it I might write more….later.

Shubh Mangal Savdhaan and Hindi Medium were the other movies I totally enjoyed. Is this some pattern or is it a sheer coincidence? Like all these movies including Bareily are members of a large north indian family. I hope it is a coincidence and they do not become material in PPT slides of ‘New emerging India’.

Also my deepest condolences to anyone who has watched ‘Half Girlfriend’ and ‘Baar Baar Dekho”.

Some random midnight thoughts about music

My brother-in-law knows 5 languages. He can fluently speak them, with nuances and twangs intact. I haven’t envied anyone more.

I once had a client who knew about 9 Indian languages, and he was so bloody fluent in all of them. The first thing that occurred to my mind was ‘Wow, he can watch movies in all those languages, without worrying if the dvd had subtitles.’ Or he can now bond with so many more assholes at bars, singing their songs as passionately, without missing out on the feeling of knowing what the fuck he was singing.

So when my Bengali friends are tripping on some bengali music, my reaction is ‘I want to know what that shit is, why the fuck am I left out?’

Then I’m thinking…well here’s what I’m thinking…

Here’s a little confession. My mother tongue is Tamil. I admit, that I’m not the best of Tamilians around. (Ask Chennai boys what they think of Bangalore Tamil boys.) Nevertheless, I am one. So, there are these two songs in Alai Payuthey that I totally trip on. ‘Kadhal sadagudu’ and ‘Endrendrum punnagai’. I have heard their hindi versions too, ‘Aye udi udi’ and ‘Oh humdum suniyo re’. I understand every single word of the hindi version, and honestly most of the words in the tamil version go above my head. But I know that the sound of the tamil version, just the way the syllables fall on my ears, is insanely more magical than the hindi version. And exactly the same way, ‘Dil se re’ has a tamil version to it, and it sounds like shit to my ears.

And when Ilayaraja’s Geetanjali, released, my cassette conked and dragged because I must have played  ‘O priya priya’ and ‘om namaha nayana’ more than even the sound engineer of it.  I don’t know a word of Telugu. ‘O priya priya’ was later made in Hindi too, and it sounded like crap to me. And yes, Geetanjali had a tamil version too, which I honestly never bothered to listen to.

I own the craziest collection of punjabi music, because I just love the sound of it. I don’t understand a word. Now I know a bit more, because I’ve asked around, because it makes me want to know what ‘gur nal ishq mitha’ really means. Apparently it’s ‘love is sweeter than jaggery’ or ‘mera laung gawacha’ means ‘my nose ring is lost’. I want to meet a person who knows the meaning of these lyrics. And compare notes with him. Did he enjoy it more than me, just because he knew what the words meant?

The songs of Metallica do something to me. The mere sound of it. I have now bought a book that explains the lyrics and context of every song. I’m reading it for academic knowledge, but it makes no fucking difference.

Apparently ‘Enter sandman’ is about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (Crib Death), when a baby dies inexplicably in its crib.

Apparently a sandman is a chap who sprinkles sand in your eyes, to induce sleep, and get you rid of nightmares and give you beautiful dreams or some such stuff.

I had never heard the word ‘sandman’ till that song arrived. Yes, but it made me want to know what it meant.

I listened to it an entire night when my landlord asked me to vacate my previous place because my neighbour had a problem with me. That track made complete sense to my emotions that night. The lyrics are totally senseless for a situation like that. For you. Not for me. How do they make sense? I don’t know. It’s beyond logic and analysis.

I know no better by now knowing what Metallica really meant.

When Rahman was composing for ‘Lagaan’, he asked Javed Akhtar to give him a word that sounded thunderous, and Javed said ‘ghanana ghanana’, which means nothing actually. Yes, that part does sound thunderous.

music

So which now brings me to the point that I’m baffled by. A huge crowd walked out of Rahman’s concert at Wembley, because he sang some 12 tamil songs, a language that they don’t understand.

It wasn’t some karaoke night. It was an AR fucking Rahman show. I pity the assholes who had all the money to shell out for the tickets, but left behind that part of their anatomy that could really feel his music.

They needed words? Words in their mother tongue to really feel it? If they need to understand what ‘nenjukulle’ really means for loving it, well here it is, ‘nenjukulle’ literally translated means ‘inside my heart/ chest’ (which is still not accurate). Infact the sound of ‘nenjukulle’, the way Rahman has asked Shakthisree to sing it, is the more accurate meaning of the word than this crap.

If one fucking tweet said ‘Hey heard this beautiful sounding song that Rahman sang today that went something like ‘ninjakullai or nenjikillaaa…or something like that..and it sounded so awesome..anyone there who can tell me what it means..dying to know’, you would have had a million guys going all out to tell you what it means. That would have been much nicer. But anyway, that meaning is futile. The real meaning is the sound of it.

And to all those who feel that they are being broad minded or broad hearted to accept ‘why this kolaveri di’, despite it being in tamil…apart from the words ‘kolaveri’ and ‘di’, the entire song is in English you assholes. (I don’t know how this makes sense for this argument, but somehow I think it does). Nobody realizes it, that they are loving it because of the music. And they think they are strangely connecting to a tamil song. ..but no. There is no tamil in it.

I can hear a million people echoing together ‘kun faya kun’ at any concert, the exact part in a hindi song that noone really understands. And when the hindi part happens, everyone kind of mumbles something. But the fun is that the most non-understandable part of that song is also its most beautiful part.

I’m not demeaning lyrics. But those words are lent to music and not reserved for poetry. Because the writer knows that there’s only so much words can do. Music can give it a meaning that it never had.

My father doesn’t know a word of hindi. But he still keeps asking me to play Rafi’s ‘Chahunga mein tujhe’, from Dosti. He has never asked me even once what those words really mean. But every time he hears it, he’s moist eyed, and says ‘Rafi’s voice is like butter’.

I now realize, music is not just about the words. It’s about the sound of those words.

And mainly, music is now the only thing left to unite us. Do not drag that too into this muck of languages. Please leave it alone. There are enough things like language alone, religion, states, countries etc working overtime to make that boundary thicker.

Please leave music alone. It was invented to make the world a more beautiful place.

I hate whatever I have written here, because I am not able to exactly express what I am feeling. But that’s the fuck up. This isn’t music.

PS: Ignore spelling, grammar, construct, repetitiveness etc because it’s too fucking tiring, boring and irritating to keep editing it. 

This world is a damn confusing place

mechanical-headfuck-1346681895Years after, many many years after I have passed out of school, college and every other form of education, I now hear from everyone around that ‘asking’ is the way of learning. It means an undying quest to learn. Someone told me that ‘Jiddu Krishnamoorthy’ is the dude who spreading this new funda.

I like it.

Since nobody told me this when I was in school (not that I had too many questions to ask), let me ask my set of questions before it is too late. My brain is filled with too many questions that is obstructing my day to day life. But not the kind of intelligent questions that Jiddu expects innocent kids to ask, but more stupid ones that are badly hampering my ‘ignorance is bliss’ existence. Questions that only seem to be bothering me, because when I look around, everyone seems damn happy. And if they aren’t, they have a very valid unanswerable existential question to fall back upon, like ‘What is the purpose of my life?’ kind of questions.

Well, till I get my own such brilliant question, I need answers for my stupid ones. So that I can then elevate my brain to higher level problems.

To begin with, now that I’m moving house, after a good seven bloody years, I’m dealing with one question that I can’t hold on to anymore. Why is a rent agreement the way it is? I mean, I cannot believe that lakhs and crores of people are drafting such agreements everyday without a brain haemorrhage.

I really want to meet this man who invented these words. Who the fuck says ‘hereinafter’ or ‘hereinbefore’?. Three words squeezed into one. They take simple words like ‘tenant’ and ‘landlord’ and  make them into lessee’s and lessor’s and squeeze them between un-punctuated threeinone words like hereinbefore and whomsoever and expand this simple negotiation of rent and deposit into a chapter from National Law School syllabus. And then this difficult chapter is then published on a stamp paper. I shudder to think how would they have drafted the Jan Lok Pal Bill. I’m sure it’s drafted with 6-in-1 words. Reason why it’s not getting cleared.

The real estate agent asked me “Saar, should I make agreement in 250 rupees stamp paper or 500?

“What is the difference?”

“Nothing saar. It’s totally your wish. I mean you can even do it even on 100 rupees. But difficult to get 100 rupee stamp paper saar.”

“But what is the advantage of making it on a 500 rupee stamp paper?”

“Saar…like that no advantage and all saar. It is totally dependent on you. Whatever you wish….but better 1000 rupee stamp paper saar.”

“Why?”

“Safer saar.”

Now, the only question that remains in my head is “Should I ponder over this or not?”. In the limited time that I have in this world, is this a question that is worth taking on or should I rather invest that time on ‘Bob Dylan’s lyrics’ and try to figure out what was he exactly trying to say in all his songs. Which would give me more fruitful results?

But honestly, how many of such basic questions can I procrastinate? I still need to set aside some time to think about why did they fuck our heads in school teaching us that the locomotive organ of amoeba is pseudopodia. I’ve been dying to use this piece of information ever since I gathered it. OR what really is the use of ‘Homo Sapiens’ when the whole world has come to terms with ‘Human Beings’? Was it some kind of a prank by some Latin bloke who is trying to preserve his language from going totally extinct.

I guess it would mean wasting reams and reams of paper by printing new text books. Which probably is more costly than this mistake. And on the stamp paper problem it would mean many typists, xerox people, real estate agents etc. would be out of a job if it weren’t so complicated. I have no choice than to simplify this in my head. While I’ve found my own coping mechanism to deal with these I still can’t find answers to some others which are eating me up alive.

images (1)Like the PNR. If it is the most important shit that most airline chaps, travel agents and world in general is keen about, why the fuck is it hidden away in some corner. And sometimes not even mentioned. Ha ha…did you know that PNR means Passenger Name Record. The airline way of making it seem all important, formal and crap. Actually I haven’t understood why is there no standard format for an air ticket. This seems like too small a crib, but it’s bigger than the ‘Homo Sapiens’ problem because it affects your life. Your day-to-day life. Because that guard who stops you to check your ticket at the entrance of the airport is groping all over the place. Just to figure out 3 things. Your name and where and when the fuck are you going? And just because this information is all over the place, he is too. And you are just standing in that queue wondering if you’ll make it. Or are you going to hear a Hollywoodish dialogue ‘Sorry, the captain has already signed the papers.”

I mean things that need to be big and bold need to be big and bold. and in a place where the eye can reach without wandering all over. Like in my newspaper, if only the date appeared big and bold then I wouldn’t be reading about Schumacher retiring and wondering why he keeps on retiring.

Talking about ‘difficult to read things’, the next in my hit list is manufacturing dates in that smudgy black ink. You first spend time in figuring out where the fuck is it tucked away? On the lid, under the carton, beside the price or some random corner…you then spend time figuring out if the 8 is a 8 or a 6, if the 4 is 1 or 7, or if 3 is an 8. And once you’ve locked in on your guess you then search for the expiry date that is hidden away in some other random place. ‘Best before 8 months from manufacture.’ Now that’s a good two minutes of my life which I could have spent listening to Raahat Fateh Ali Khan’s new track in Dedh Ishqiya which I have still not got the time to listen to, because I don’t have that 2 minutes.

images (2)I have just discovered that I am not busy. It’s just that the world is making me spend my time on the most futile shit. Spending it on getting OTPs for online transactions, registering my details on every stupid site, sorting my spam mail, trying to block linked-in mails, figuring out why there are 77 buttons on my TV remote, trying to reach customer care by jabbing 1 and then 4 and then 3 and then 5 and then 7 and then 8 and finally 9 to speak to the service advisor, inventing new passwords for expiring passwords, waiting for waiters, waiting for waiters to bring your order and then waiting for the bill and then waiting for the change, finding charging points for my phone, trying to figure out the private settings on facebook, opening a bubblegum, trying to separate the wrapper from bubblegum, searching for a bin to dispose the wrapper and then searching for a bin to dispose the bubblegum, and waiting for ads to finish on youtube, advance searching on google…I am sure that there is a good Al Pacino film waiting to be discovered by me in this time.

And in the meanwhile there are other questions that are threatening to baffle my innocent mind..

Why is an air conditioner measured in tonne’s when it should actually be the square feet it can cover?

Why is a refrigerator measured in litres…when it should be measured by size?

How can anyone buy a headphone without being able to try it before buying?

first-world-problems-internet-memeWhy is a Pepsi fridge-pack bottle-shaped and not square-shaped like Real juice to fit into your refrigerator? Or at least have a more stable bottom so that it doesn’t topple down every time I even tip-toe beside it.

Why don’t darshinis sell idlis in the evening?

And Colgate says ‘cavity protection’ on its pack. Shouldn’t it be ‘protection from cavities’?

All kids-wear brands have sizes in 18 to 24 months and then it jumps to size 4 to 5 years. So do 3 year olds have to walk naked or in oversized clothes?

How can they have a fall collection and spring collection in India when those seasons don’t exist here?

And for what joy does the Airtel ebill that has been mailed to my personal id need a password? Who would want to pay my bill?

Why is the word ‘curd’ not there in any default dictionary in a mobile phone? Okay, they call it yoghurt? Then why the fuck don’t they call ‘tofu’, bean yoghurt?

And thinking of curds, why does no ‘Set Dahi’ brand have a lid to seal it back instead of making us suffer by trying to precariously tear open that stupid silver foil and then reseal it?

What is 12 at night? Am or PM?

I have a Samsung A/c that has an anti-bacteria button. If it’s a feature in the A/C, why should I press a button to activate it? Under what circumstances would I not want anti-bacteria air?

Who is this man in the universe who can teach us how to exactly rip open an alpenliebe candy from its wrapper?

How can you call it ‘Food World’ and then sell soaps and brooms?

What the fuck can I do with a Aadhar card that I can’t do without?

If home theatres are sold with 5 output speakers and 7 output speakers, then what is 5.1 and 7.1? Why waste that ‘.’ and that ‘1’?

Why is the ‘domestic’ airport of Mumbai called Chatrapathi Sivaji International Airport?

Why do hotels make a big deal of their ‘welcome drink’ which is some shitty Fanta, and put ‘complimentary’ tags on their 12 rupee water bottles when they charge 10k a night? And not have latches in their bathrooms and faucets in their loos.

first-world-problems-19

I know these are first world problems and are way down in the list below ‘why is there war?’ or ‘deforestation should be stopped’ kind of problems.

But I’ll wait for my turn.

In the meanwhile I read this on the internet.”whatever material they made that ‘black box’ with, why the fuck can’t they make the entire airplane with that shit?”

I want to find out who wrote that and make him the president of the world.