Today he had a rather naughty cd of Haryanavi songs playing.  I found them better than Om Jay Jagdish etc.  I know, I have bad Godless taste!  But the songs were too much!  You had one musical one about a youth lusting over his Chachi and serenading her with evil intent declared.  You had one about a saali trying to woo her Jija, and the Jija rejecting her and advising her to cool down.  The Jija exasperated sings in chorus ........ 

KHADDA BAKHEDA HO GAYO!!!!!

Must say I have started my day with a bang

On popular demand, I am attempting to translate the phrase :

Khada = Standing

Bakheda = Problem

Ho Gayo = Happened

So it would mean that a problem has arisen .....

Dammit the punch is missing!!!!  Lost in Translation I think

This is even funnier when you realize it's real! Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy.

Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana . He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister.

She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne , Indiana , who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest.

Needless to say, she won.

Hi Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.

Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all.

Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.

As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature.

It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.

Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done.

In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it.

However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.

I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive.

I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.

As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.

Now repeat to yourself, 'I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.' Now whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself, is this a jellyfish bad day? May you NEVER have a jellyfish bad day!!!!!

NOW ALL YOU GOOD PEOPLE OUT THERE REPEAT AFTER ME

I LOVE MY JOB

I LOVE MY JOB

I LOVE MY JOB

Self : With starry eyed vision of spending a day in a/c ambience unsupervised by boss : Sir the flight in the morning is at 7 am, and that means you have to reach airport at 5 am.  Why dont you catch the afternoon flight?  You can easily stay the night and come back on Monday ....

Boss : Almost falling for it : 5 a.m. on Sunday is too early

Self : Hopefully twitching the bait : Yes  sir, its too early.  Aap araam se jayen na, by the afternoon flight

Boss : Deep thought

Self : Breath held in hopeful anticipation

Boss : Picking up phone and instructing secretary : Book the 7 am ticket for XDFR and send Mr. PO*&%9 in

Self : ????!!!!

Boss : Smirking : Let him go and attend the meeting.  I will sleep at home

Self : Walking out in a funk kicking myself

Darn, sometimes I get too ahead of myself!  Now he will rest on Sunday and be fully energetic and raring to eat us all Monday onwards

Dammit

Problem in life —-> Run to Guru/Jyotish/Mom ——> They have direct connection with God

I believe in God - Yes I do, but somehow I do not feel the need of a link up or a middle man between me and my God

And got enlightened - not quite the way I thought I would

Thank you Aastha Chanel.  I owe you one

Read the rest here at Associated Content

Mogambo : Do you know where MG Road is?

Me : No, I dont

Mogambo : Irritated shrug : Kuch pata bhi hota hai?

Walks off.  I mutter "Thank you for ruining my lunch break" and continue surfing the net

He walks in 15 mins later

Mogambo : Had lunch? (This niceness is suspect, I think it is because he wants to be nice about screwing up my lunch - not that he spoiled it any way Humph!)

Me : Polite smile : Yes, tell me?

Mogambo : When is the Obama thing being televised?

Me : I dont know

Mogambo : Office aate hi kyon ho?  Do you even know what is happening in the office?

Me : Excuse Me??????  Is Obama joining our company?

Mogambo hastily exits my room!

I start searching Google for MG Road and Obama

I am supposed to be the General Manager Costing for Exports

Go figure!!!!!!

I think that this so-called retirement concept is total bullshit.  A mother never retires and neither does a housewife - and they do more laborious stuff than a normal office worker.  Even actors dont retire, they become Moms and Dads and such like stuff.  So why should we? 

In our culture, age is respected.  Greying hair and daughter in laws/grandchildren give us the aura of wisdom (never mind if we colour our hair and go ahead and blog about boobs and wrestling heh!) I feel that we should be given a chance to work until we are ready to call quits.  Of course I have no retirement plans or funds (I never plan) though I have a vague idea of packing bags and baggage and moving to Punjab or Kasauli or someplace cheaper and more friendly than the NCR.

I have seen how the elderly live in the NCR.  Its a lonely life and its boring.  Get up early, go for a walk, bring milk for the family.  Then go to the temple, spend time there, come back with vegetables from the vendor.  Then sit and read the newspaper, watch television, while away time.  Then its lunch.  After lunch, take a nap, wake up and spend time with grandchildren (if the grandchild is in the mood to spend time with you), then evening walk in the park, come back home.  More television and then sleep.  I guess it would kill me, if retirement did not.  I think life in a smaller town or a village would be better - where life is slow and people are more approachable.

I am not even talking about money - I have this belief that if you are educated, you can look after your own needs.  No one ever could make enough to fulfill the greeds any way - so why get into that.  It is things like the fear of being redundant, being irrelevant and lonely that are scaring me.  For many years, I have been at the helm, both at office and at home and this is a feeling that is new to me.

I would welcome inputs from others reading this blog ...... what does one do when your employer thinks that you are old and do not have to work, and your family has grown up and does not need you?  How is one to cope with being sidelined after being on centrestage for such a long time?

I dont mind growing old - as if I'll stop ageing if I mind heh? In my mind's eye I still look somewhere around 25, so I get a shock when I see my photos. It is like OMG - I cant believe this is me. I guess I better start accepting that this is what I look like, and get it over with. But I still have a lot of life left in me. So I cant sit tamely and embroider or make achars or do whatever women my age are supposed to do.

What is with every one in this youth centric world? Just because a woman reaches a certain age, they start acting as though she can not exert herself or even look after her self outside the kitchen. I went into the office loo and as soon as I locked the door, the darn handle came off in my hand. So I did what any sensible person in my position would do ... I finished my business, and then tried to re-attach the handle so that I could walk out. No such luck. So I rang up the housekeeper and explained my predicament. Once he understood what had happened, he was much amused and told me to stay put while he unscrewed the lock. I waited for about 5 minutes and then rang him up again. .......

Me : Sumerji, kya hua

Him : Madamjee, hum ladeej bathroom ke bahar hi hain. Abhi wait kariye (accompanied by many male giggles)

Shit, I wonder, how many people are outside - dont they have work to do???

Well the tone of his voice was so irritating that I took matters in my own hand. I opened the window and tried to climb out into the balcony. As luck would have it, my shoe fell off my foot inside the bathroom. I was standing in the window sill trying to decide whether to jump out regardless ... or jump back into the bathroom barefoot (horrors!!!) when the lock got unscrewed and door opened. The man walks in (he is older than me by at least two years) and starts scolding me "Aap ladeej log najuk hote ho. Aap ko is umar mein aise kaam nahin karne chahiye. Your bones will crack or you will hurt yourself somehow!!!" The Haryanavi MCP to the core!! I somehow manage to smile, hop in on one foot, quickly slip the other into the darn shoe and walk out thanking him with poor grace.

Excuse me, I am not NAJUK. I grew up with a whole lot of brothers, real and cousin, and was known to terrorise the entire lot of them and have defeated them many times in boyish games. That was then and this is now I guess ...

I can soooo empathise with this lovely quote:

"I refuse to admit I'm more than fifty-two, even if that does make my sons illegitimate" Nancy Astor

His Highness and his family were being so nice and gracious doing the rounds. Once I had met the guests I knew, I settled down to my favorite pastime, drinking and watching others. It is such fun.

Friends of His Highness and family were keeping to their sorts (rich and famous) the women checking out every one else’s clothes and jewellery, men checking out every woman’s figure……the union leaders wolfing down the food and drinks as though they had been starving for the last millennium. The lower rung employees happily getting drunk stationed either near the bar or the loo. Then there is us ::::: “the inner circle” or “chamchas”, depending on whether we are in earshot or out of it. We smiled our hellojis and namasteys cordially and then hung around with each other politely. We definitely could not get happily drunk, we certainly did not want to talk shop – and we have precious little else in common. I got rid of them soon and joined Kid#2 and D.I.L.

Of course Kid#2 had got us a lovely table close to the bar. It really is an art There we proceeded to drink seriously. I kid you not, since the Angel of Joy could not be everywhere, God gave us booze. 3 glasses of wine and D.I.L. started missing her husband aka Kid#1. She got emotional and sleepy (don’t ask me how she managed to do that) and had to be dropped home. Kid#2 took her home and I managed to get myself 2 LITs and a whole lot of snacks…….

Of course after all that I needed to visit the washroom. Since I know the palace very well, I walked inside hoping to find an unoccupied loo. No such luck. So I sat down on a sofa in one of the rooms waiting for the loo door to open. I was quite happy, I had my glass in my hand and was watching the party from the French windows and the loo opened and out came one very senior person I know accompanied by his subordinate’s wife. I think for me the party began right then!!!! Till then it was an official do in which I had to be present. I gave them a happy drunk smile, and they smiled guiltily hoping that what I had seen had not registered. So I spared them further embarrassment and rushed into the washroom and came out – finished my LIT. I swear to God till then I was just buzzing. Then I got rollickingly drunk – and it was not my fault. It was the fault of my imagination and the couple that I had witnessed.

By the time Kid#2 came back to the party, I think I could not even walk straight. He had dinner and I had an Irish Coffee. It was a miracle that I could walk straight, and wish the royalty goodnight and thank them for the wonderful party. We were served cigars at the party and we smuggled some home with us. Once home, I let my hair down lit a cigar and started singing “Mauja hi mauja” and doing bhangra in the front yard. Poor Kid#2, he was so annoyed!!!! Two drunk women is a bit much to handle for him. Aaaah kiddo, you’ll learn. Consider this good practice for the rest of your life.