This barber seems to be inspired by Grimms Fairy Tales
Desi Beats (2)
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Tag Archives: Comedy
A post for the child inside all of us …
First of all a disclaimer … I am not a serious person, and definitely not a politically astute one. So if you are going to be (God forbid) a boring adult and take my post seriously and get into an uproar, all I would like to say is “Nyah Nyah! I gotcha!”
Now that I have got the statutory disclaimer out of the way, let me tell the children who are with me … “Guys, just check out the 75 year old child, Anna Hazare. He fixed it for us. He just dug in his heels with a childlike obstinacy and won the day. Makes me seriously value the child like simplicity which I am sure resides deep down in all of us.
You know, I have mentioned it in some other blog I wrote – whenever I am too confused or conflicted, I try and talk to a ten year old. They dont understand a lot, but sure as hell know what is important and good. It is intuitive for them. It cuts through the bullshit and gets me through the muddled times.
So why cant we be that simple. It isnt hard. That is what our default mode aught to be.
Consider this
Children on an allowance cant spend more than they have. It is as simple as that. Wont our economy benefit from stringent budgeting? Hell yeah, it will. Scamsters and greedy people like Raja and Kalmadi would not thrive in such conditions. What is more, no parent would agree to give a child more, just because he votes himself a pay raise, or overspends his allowance.
Kids do not like to stand out
Kids know all about fitting in. No kid would like to come to school in a stretch limo, when his peer group cycles down to school. No kid would like to wear jeans to school when the rest are in uniform. They hate being the odd man out. They don’t like being viewed as a teacher’s pet, or a rich privileged person.
Kids say it like they see it
Sigh! I wish the political spokespersons of Congress, BJP and other parties knew how refreshing it is to speak to children. No political posturing, no statements that are so patently false like Manish Tiwari’s and Digvijay Singh’s in the recent past.
But then … TV would not be half as entertaining would it?
Children like to help
It gives them joy, to help their mothers at home, and their friends and school mates. Its been a long time since I have seen such joy in doing something significant in the faces of our national leaders.
Children respect their elders and betters
Ahem … Wish we remembered that … all of us
Kids do not want to differentiate with other kids on basis of caste, colour and creed … or economic status
And when we teach them to – they still wonder why …
Its time, I feel that we go back to the lovely black and white world we lived in as children.
Now excuse me while I throw a tantrum before a drink my medicine and wail loudly and say, “I don’t wanna ”
But I draw a line at staging hunger strikes. I simply dont have the will power 
Murphy Loves Me
As is the norm I discovered the Law much before I was introduced to Mr. Murphy who actually wrote it.
And it has played a major role in my life. Always.
Now take this instance ….
Just before Diwali, I get diagnosed as diabetic. So I go through Diwali sans sweets. I go on this killer “I hate sweets and wont eat carbs” routine. Sigh! Who am I kidding? Once I got used to the idea, I started sneaking in some sweets – but not much. I dont wanna die do I? But I stopped indulging in any random treat that came my way.
Then I developed an allergy against the medicine that was given to me. So I stopped taking it and the allergy vanished. After a week of no medicines I visited the Doc. Yeah, I am the sort that does not go to doctors on the grounds that they may just discover some other stupid condition and give me medicines and diet regimens.
Well, the doc says that I am not diabetic. WTF??
This is the same dude that declared me diabetic not so many months ago.
Still – to be sure, he sends me for some tests – fasting and post fasting blood tests.
The results came in – Nope I am not diabetic.
So me being me, I decided to celebrate. I got up today morning, added a generous dollop of honey to my morning cornflakes. Tasted horrible!
I made myself a juicy peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I feel like too much birthday cake in my mouth. Horrible and rich.
I want to eat a spicy McChicken burger to prove to myself that I am still me. But I have no faith in myself anymore.
I have lost the taste for things that I liked.
Need some hugs my friends
I greatly fear that either I have grown too sensible and/or old or that I have become a saint.
Help!!!
Fire Halp!
I have been good. I have been so good for the last couple of blog posts that I have started to believe that those were written by a stranger. I mean I miss the old Ritu. Why the eff have I become so politically correct?
Am I growing old?
I am all for the kids doing their own thing and letting elderly me relax on my bed with my lap top. Age and growing feeble is an asset, which should be used properly. It can be really advantageous.
It makes the kids deal with crisis responsibly
Which is just what they did when a switchboard caught fire upstairs in the night. They let me sleep happily downstairs while they combated the fire …. the best they could.
Apparently Kid#1 and DIL were just going to bed when there was an electrical fire.
Kid#1 tried to gently fan it away with a towel.
DIL snatched the towel away and stomped it down with all her might.
Kid#2, who woke up due to the commotion, stood blankly watching the fire, half asleep.
The two male dogs also reacted strangely. The dacshund, Piper was so scared that he needed therapy. He slept the night in DIL’s bed, clinging to her.
Baron, our german shephard sat watching the commotion dumbly.
Jeannie our female german shephard growled and barked at the fire, trying to scare it away.
DIL came down for her morning cup of milk and told me
“You know there was a fire last night”
Me : Whaaaat? When, where??
DIL : I put it out. It was me who ordered both your sons to get the towels. Even then, they were being so gentle. I snatched the towel from their hands and stomped the fire away.
Me : My God!
…. and I rushed to see it.
She told me how the dogs reacted … and how the men did.
Females of any species are far more alert and pro-active, even if we snarl and bark at dangers, even if our mode of action is not the ideal one. Yeah!
But the last line has to be Kid#1′s
Oye! Stop bragging. I was the one who turned off the mains!
All said and done … females rock
And another thing …. do you think its time I retire??? I can, you know. She can take care of my two boys well ….
Philosophy of Life as per Phoenixritu
This is Life
Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder about life and its meaning. Mercifully, I do not like to drink deep from the well of wisdom. I am sure my brain cells thank me for not overtaxing them and so does my giddy heart, which has a healthy repulsion to pain.
Don’t get me wrong guys, What I am trying to do here is rationalize I guess. People do profound things; they go and sit with Anna Hazare who is protesting to get the Lokpal bill passed. People start the CSA movement, fight for women’s rights and so much more. Much as I admire it all, I don’t seem to have it in me to participate actively.
Yeah, the quintessential rebel MOI, my all time favorite hindi song, from the movie Hum Dono sums up my attitude beautifully …
main zindagi ka saath
nibhaata chala gaya
har fikar ko dhuen mein
udaata chala gaya
barbadiyon ka shok
manaana fizool tha
barbadiyon ka jashn
manaata chala gaya
har fikr ko dhuen mein uda
Yes, that song is my philosophy in life. Nothing lasts, we won’t either. The world will keep on spinning on its slightly tilted axis, when I am gone too. I hope and pray that it will be a better place, but I have my moments of cynicism, when I wonder …”Will we make a difference?” and I wonder “Have human beings changed since the times of the Dropas, the Mayans and those chappies who painted on cave walls and cut hieroglyphics on stone?”
I don’t know if things will improve or not. I don’t even know if people will remember me after I’m done with life. Frankly speaking, it does not bother me much. I know we are here on temporary visa anyway. In my understanding, this world and the life we live is an obstruction course, where a whole lot of challenges are thrown at us. There are folk, let’s call ‘em higher beings, sitting somewhere and watching us, much like Romans sat and watched the gladiators fighting. Oh no! They aren’t moralistic or prim and proper. They are watching us tackle the obstacles, munching the higher beings equivalent of popcorn and chips, drinking the higher being equivalent of Pepsi and booze.
They possibly have a whole lot of money staked on their favorites. I know I am one of the favorites. I provide them wholesome entertainment.
I can just imagine conversation between Higher Being 1 and Higher Being 2, sitting at a tabernae and watching us little beings (actually me) on a screen …..
H.B.1 : Oye, the female over there, you know that short chubby one? I just threw a googli at her.
H.B.2 : Pass me the HB kurkure and a HB beer. Which one?(HB1 points with his mouse) Oh that one! And what did she do?
H.B.1 : She fell. But then she got up, smiled and managed to go through. It was fun watching her. Good 3 earth years she took, but she did it. Very entertaining.
H.B.2 : She did that? Let’s throw a more twisted one at her. Bet she won’t manage that with a smile. Bet she quits.
H.B.1 : That is two bets. What are the odds? And how much are you willing to wager?
No wonder I wade through muck, get to high ground and then land in more muck
Keep smiling. You never know who is watching 
Family Resemblance
Papa teases Mama all the time
‘Is she yours or is she mine?’
And when I play an awesome prank
And even before Mama can go crank
He says “I’ll take the blame, I better
You sure she wasn’t delivered by courier?”
The truth is I’ve never looked like either of them
Wonder what happened to family resemblance?
One day, I was splashing in the yard, in my plastic pool
When Brownie jumped right in, the fool
Papa stared as I jumped up, squealing in chagrin
“Why Mama”, he said, “She could be your twin!”
The super moon and I
I climbed upstairs to click pics of the super moon. I mean, how can I not have a photo of that mysterious white ball that hangs around the earth? It is supposed to cause a lot of havoc by swinging so close to the earth. In fact some astrologers are going around crying themselves hoarse blaming the tsunami in Japan on the super moon.
What? Haven’t you watched India TV in the recent past?
All at once I started feeling like as though I am shooting a horror flick or something, and I hesitated.
As older readers of my blog know, I live on the ground floor in queenly isolation and splendor. The kids live upstairs and so do the dogs.
I stopped at the landing and promised myself that I will climb the stairs more often. Its good work out. In fact DIL was complaining today that I never come up. She is right … but then I thought she would be happy to have such a non-interfering MIL. Women! One never knows what will please them!
Well DIL was sitting on the bed laughing her guts out watching Oscar. She did not even acknowledge the fact that I came upstairs. So much for that!
Kid#1 was sitting in the lounge upstairs writing his novel no. 2
Kid#2 was in his room watching Prince of Persia
No one was even bothered.
And it occurred to me that Super Moon can come and do its darnedest. As long as Tata Sky is giving us stellar service, we ain’t gonna go anywhere in a hurry.
In fact we won’t even notice if the earth stops spinning on its axis
I commented on this fact
DIL said “Huh? Babe what is Mom talking about?”
Well, she definitely does not watch India TV
Kid#2 : Ignoring my comment : Its on UTV, Mom. Should I come down and put it on for you? The movie is awesome!
Kid#1 : To his wife : Never mind honey, you know she is a bit like Luna Lovegood.
Wish I was, then I would take a wand and zap sting bombs at them
Or fly on a broomstick to take a closer look at this lovely thing
By the way, if Gods were aliens, the moon would be their outpost, the observatory from which they keep a watch on us puny humans and our antics …
Now, have I made you uneasy?
Various stages of Cleaning Fever
I personally do not know why I get the cleaning bug from time to time. In my opinion it is very inconvenient, that is, to say the least. When it hits any one it follows one single course – it gets the poor deluded victim to climb up nooks and crannies, discard a whole lot to stuff that was sitting quietly and minding its own business and such an infection only leaves the victim sweaty, with aching muscles and a pain in the back.
Sigh – cleaning!!
Its various stages … as per my experience are listed below. Readers can add, embellish etc etc.
1. The pre-incubus stage is brought about by A Sense of Competition
Beware! If you are feeling that Mrs.XYZ’s home is spotlessly clean, just pause and reflect. The lady perhaps has nothing much to do in life. Imagine serving you tea with neatly starched cloth napkins. Humph! She probably even keeps tea and coffee in their respective containers. Possibly she never heard of the creative beauty of keeping tea leaves in the sugar pot and coffee in the container marked tea. Organized is so unimaginative 
Unfriend her on FaceBook
Delete her number from your cellphone
Sigh, no use …. She has infected you, my friend. You are suffering from the dreaded Cleaning Fever.
Now you may ask, what is the next thing to expect?
2. Delusion, the second stage
Sadly, now you are infected. You look at them drawers, cupboards and nooks and crannies. You laugh bravely, roll up your sleeves and declare : “Oh this is nothing. I’ll get it done within a couple of hours. You put on some great music like this one
You even sing along and get on with it. You get one crockery drawer done, and the next . You think to yourself “I’m doing good!”
3. Devastation
Yes, that is what comes next! In your enthusiasm you have emptied the whole damn wardrobe. Ambition has bitten you and you have possibly even upturned the toy cabinet. Your home looks like a wreck and you weep a few tears wondering “How will I ever get this done?” Then you say “Don’t cry” and bawl! After that you pick up letters circa 1971 and wonder why you are such a hoarder and why did you even keep two mismatched orange socks! Then you take a deep breath and say “Don’t panic”
And then in a split second YOU PANIC!!!
Never mind, you have to let the infection run its full course. Take a deep breath, its going to get better not worse.
4. Procrastination
You settle down on the floor or bed, decide to have a cup of tea or something cold. You need it since you’ve been crying/raging/hyperventilating. Then you realize you are hungry and need a bite to eat. May be the dog needs a walk or the baby needs a change or whatever. You switch on the television to distract yourself and calm your nerves. The good news is the infection is subsiding. The bad news is that the home is in a mess. This naturally leads to the fifth stage.
5. Guilt
You look at the clock, four hours are passed since the stage of delusion. Only one wardrobe done. So you blame yourself, kick yourself in the butt, hyperventilate some more, sob some more and get on with it. You also bad mouth children, partner, husband, maid and throw the circa 1971 letters in the dust bin.
It is evening now, you are aching all over, sweaty and badly need some TLC. This is when the final stage hits you
6. Jugaad or Resourcefulness
The shelves are clean, things to be discarded have been thrown. Now you start stuffing everything willy nilly back into the cupboards. After all, what are they for, but to store and hide the mess? You kick some toys under the bed, arrange all visible things neatly and go for a long and relaxing shower.
Congratulations, you have just recovered from a major attack of the dreaded Cleaning Fever.
Yes, you may shine your halo, arrange it on your head, pour yourself a stiff drink and order a pizza. After all the Cleaning Fever leaves the victim weak and tired. One good thing though, you will get a great night’s sleep!
All images, courtesy google
I shot myself in the foot
As long time readers of my blog know, I suffer from foot-in-mouth-itis. Foot-in-mouthitis can be described as a common affliction of extrovert, irrepressible females of a certain age who end up speaking or doing things without thinking of the consequences.
And one thing that readers of the blog don’t know is that Kid#2 suffers from “Me-want-Me-Grab” syndrome. And that he thinks that “Ma-ka-maal” equals “Mera-Maal”
It leads to interesting stuff.
Case 1 : I sleepily walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth in the morning. Pick up tooth brush and grope around for tooth paste. No tooth paste. Switch on light and confirm, No effin toothpaste. I distinctly remember having a tube on the shelf. Give up and fish out a fresh tube. Later I investigate and find that Kid#2 has taken it upstairs. Damn! Don’t even ask why he did not open the spare stuff cabinet and take out a fresh tube. He wanted – he took!
Case 2 : “Borrowing” my Ipod and ear-phones.
Case 3 : Sigh … my Blackberry
Enter sad doleful veena sounds here
Folks, not too long ago, I owned a Blackberry. But then I had Kid#2 some twenty years ago. Ergo, I now have no Blackberry
And dumbass that I am I did it to myself.
I kept grumbling. See, the thing is that I wanted full BB services. I even offered the honchos in command of telecom services for office to pay for them BB services. They declined for reasons best known to them. Hence I could not get the darn BB services on my phone (its a corporate connection).
I bitched about it, said “Without those services BB is a piece of shit”
Never ever ever ever say such things in front of your kids, because they are wondering how to use such stuff in their favor. Purrfectly understandable, as long as you are not the parent!
Especially kids who are glib and excellent at marketing spiel. Why the shit is he training to be a mechanical engineer I wonder!
Well he discovered that I had a Nokia E66 in my drawer. He scented blood. He sales talked me into handing over my BB to him willingly!!!
I could kill myself!
I still could not see what had happened.
Then he activated my much longed for BB service on the said phone.
He showed me the screen that now looks so smart.
Then he said, “Thanks lady, its been a pleasure doing business with you”
Its then that it hit me!
Gaaah!
I applaud this 98 year old woman
A ninety eight year old woman took on a bank manager in U.K. She wrote him a letter.
The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the Times.
I am publishing it here because I think she reminds me of Maxine whom I love. And I hate financial institutions with their superior attitude and red tape.
Dear Sir,
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my cheque with which I endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the cheque and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my Pension, an arrangement, which, I admit, has been in place for only thirty eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account £30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank.
My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, but when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person. My mortgage and loan payments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank by cheque, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate. Be aware that it is an offence under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope.
Please find attached an Application Contact Status which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Solicitor, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course, I will issue your employee with PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me level the playing field even further. When you call me, press buttons as follows:
1. To make an appointment to see me.
2. To query a missing payment.
3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
4. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
7. To leave a message on my computer (a password to access my computer is required.
A password will be communicated to you at a later date to the Authorized Contact.)
8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through to 8.
9. To make a general complaint or inquiry, the contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call.
Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.
May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous, New Year.
Your Humble Client
(Remember: This was written by a 98 year old woman; DOESN’T SHE MAKE YOU PROUD!)