Ms. Batlivala goes on a Fast.

It is not easy being a socialite. Mrs. Batlivala could be a case study for all the IIMs on how to multitask effortlessly.
But the last thing on her mind was IIM. To be fair to her she didn’t even know or cared what was IIM. She had a more important issue on hand. So as she carefully nursed her glass of Chablis between her thumb and forefinger, Her More menthol dangling sexily in the recess of her middle and forefinger, she absent mindedly picked up a canapé and deposited it her mouth. Then she picked up a tissue and brushed off her designer white kurta. She had avoided the cap as it would have been too obvious.That old man had made the fashion statement of the year. She wore below a ballooned white lower which resembled a dhoti quite oblivious of the fact the Mrs. Sachdeva was sniggering in the ears of Miss sexy legs, “ Looks like there was a fire in Mrs. Batlivala’s house and she wore everything she could lay a hand on.” Miss sexy leg smiled politely careful not to spoil her lipstick. She was meeting her boss in The Taj for an afternoon rendezvous.
Mrs. Batlivala wanted to pull of a quick one. She wanted to fast. It was fashionable. But she wasn’t too enamored of that old man. She wrinkled her nose disgustedly. Typical middle class. And the woman who as with him. God! What awful fashion sense. But Kejriwal. Oh he is an absolute doll. She felt her legs go weak thinking of him.
Now the reason she was getting these anxiety attacks was that she had to something fast. She searched in her bag and felt the comforting presence of Restil. Thank God for these anti anxiety pills. She had to act fast before someone else does it. Should she have an ‘Anna’ theme party or should she go on a fast.
Thirteen days. She rolled her eyes in horror. Who on earth in his right mind would do that. She liked Narendra Modi’s Idea. Nice air conditioned comfort; three day fast. short and sweet.It was like the old man was playing a five day cricket match and Modi a one day.
She was a big fan of Modi. Loved his sartorial tastes. Look at those lovely kurtas. And the white beard. One could play football on his wide chest. She felt giddy. Oh lord! Why are the handsome men either single , taken or gay? The press is comparing him with Rahul Gandhi. She dismissed it instantly. Boys will be boys and men will be men.
She reached for the wafer thin cucumber sandwich as she signaled the waiter to refill her glass. Her mind was made up. she would go for a fast. She could always decide on the cause for doing so later. But three days would be too much. She could go for a T20. Something between Lunch and Dinner so she could be in time for the evening ball . being the cynosure of all eyes.
There would be no orange juice to break the fast. It is so passé. Maybe a melon juice. Nice and sexy . or perhaps strawberry. Let me check with the bar tender if he could dish out something delightful that would go well with my white dress.
She stood up determined. There was still time to think for the cause of this fast. But a lot had to be done. Inviting the TV crew, ordering snacks for the meet the press party announcing the fast, planning on the glassware; should it be a champagne flute, tall and sexy or Paris goblet round and wholesome or a simple juice glass , deciding what to wear for the party errr fast then go for shopping. She had to buy accessories and shades. Lot of work and no one to help dear me.
“Oh lord. Is anyone as socially committed as me?”That was the last thought as she left the club.

Pizza Corner Memories.

I am not dying. I consider myself still young. My Pizza corner is young too. People write memories when they retire. But with my terrible memory, I may not remember half of them.
Entrepreneurship isn’t as bad as it is made out to be. At the same time it is not a bed of roses. There are some good and bad times. Here are some of my favorite moments in my Pizza corner.
1.The two young medicos were deep in studying the menu. Young Tanmay, carrying the MOT like a seasoned pro, went to them and enquired if they were ready to place their orders. The young ladies froze for a moment and stared at him for a moment. Suddenly they broke into laughter. They were taken aback to see someone so young. Priceless. Tanmay stole the heart of all the young ladies who visited during his brief stay.
2. This young engineering student signaled for a waiter. Since all the staff was busy, I went and enquired if I could help. He was holding the menu with the picture of the large pizza with the real pizza on the table. He was counting the number of tikka pieces on the picture and comparing with the real one. “They are less than the one in the picture.” I explained that I have measuring cups for each sizes and the chicken is spread according to that. It is pretty uniform. He thought for a moment and stared at me, “In that case, change the picture. “ I too stared back intensely and said in the same serious tone, “ Good idea.”
3.These two Malaysian girls have the loveliest smile in the world. But one day there was an inordinate rush. Their order was not only delayed, it was mixed up as well. One of them was furious. When reminded of that night, she has a very simple explanation. “Hunger can do many things to people. “ I hope beautiful girl, you are never hungry.
4. I had an unusual request. This young boy came with his girlfriend carrying two large bags. It was his friend’s birthday and could he have a candle lit. I assured him that it was his restaurant and he could do whatever he pleased. We gave him a corner and switched of the lights there. He was a charmer. He pulled the chair for his girl. Brought gifts for her. Then he ordered an empty plate and placed a large cake on it. The staff was surprised how they could eat such a large cake. But he was not only chivalrous; he was kind hearted as well. He cut the cake in large pieces and offered them to all the staff. The staff genuinely wished them well. I hope we don’t get many such guests. I can’t resist desserts and I am already overweight!
5. A young man was standing outside carrying a bottle of beer. He was insisting that he drink inside. The staff was unable to stop him. I went out as a large crowd was waiting for their turn. I pointed to them and explained to him there weren’t enough chairs inside. Only one of them could go inside. So why don’t he get the beer inside him and then haul his solitary ass inside. The young man smiled and in one large swig drank the whole beer to a huge applause. He patted my shoulder and said I was cool. But I, on the contrary, was glad that he wasn’t hot headed.
6. This young lady brought her grandmother to the store. The old lady was diabetic. She had multiple allergies and was a high blood pressure patient. But she was insisting on eating all kinds of foods. “ I am not going to live long. Let me eat what I want to.” She kept on saying. We carefully planned her menu. She wanted to try mint mojito. The young lady was worried about the impact. Suddenly I asked her if she would have tea with me. The old lady said that she couldn’t find it in the menu. I winked and said we keep it for special people. While paying she wanted to pay for the tea as well. I told her it was on me.
After a week the young lady came and informed that the old lady had expired. Her last meal was the one she had in Pizza Corner. While dying she remembered me and asked her granddaughter to thank me for the tea. It was a poignant moment. I pointed to the star that was twinkling the most and said, “That must be your grand ma.”
she smiled and squeezed my hand, her eyes moist, said, " Thank You."
7.Young Rehan always comes with his mom. Then one day his mom explained. whenever his father is out of station and he misses him, he wants to visit uncle's store. I make it a point to offer them both seats even when there is a waiting.Him and the students who come with their parents. No one minds it. for each one has parents. and parents visit hardly once a year. They certainly deserve the special treatment.
Memories are many. The young Arab, who has the most pleasing manners but always pays half the bill and the remaining has to be collected from his apartment, The american girl who orders from a bar, we were uncertain if it was a crank call since she orders huge. Then that charming Malaysian couple who stopped their auto and helped me reach my store dry under their umbrella. Their explanation that I care for them a lot. Well! who wouldn't love such well mannered boys and girls?
They all have their own idiosyncrasies. But I love them all.
The best compliment I have received was from an NRI from California. "It reminds me of my home!" she says with a far off look in her eyes. Thank You young lady.
The Pizza corner serves it purpose!

An open letter to the PM.

Dear PM,
It’s been a while since I wrote a letter to you. But trust me I remember you every single day. It is because of a young boy, Tony. Now if you were my fan and read my blog regularly, you would know who is Tony. But I doubt that. So let me enlighten you. He is my friend’s precocious nine year old son.
If that isn’t enough to interest you, let me tell you one more interesting facet about him. This would certainly interest you since you are a great patron of arts. I gathered it when that bare footed artist died in exile and suddenly your whole party including you and your reverend realized his greatness. Death can certainly absolve one of all his sins, no? well , this young boy is a step ahead of this artist. He doesn’t walk barefooted. He runs totally bare. Admire his latest creation as I come back to our story.
So whenever I call young Tony and ask him what is he doing, he says that in his sing song voice, “ Kuch Nahi”. That immediately reminds me of you.
If anything offends you sir, promise me not to let lose your favorite tear gas or water cannons. I, too, am like those unarmed women and children on whom your police showered their benevolence. Also please don’t arrest me or send me to Tihar. It is anyway overflowing with your brothers and sisters in arms. There would have been some space if the DMK had won. But no such luck. You have to move ahead in life. so rightly dump them and go ahead and sew an alliance with Amma.
Sir, you completed two years in power. Well done. We all stood and observed a two minute silence.
This country is doomed anyway because all the opposition is provided by naked fakirs and tired old men. The BJP is busy dancing at Rajghat.
But if you are serious, which you always are, I have a few advises to make. Trust me this talent comes to me naturally. I can give advises on all issues which I have no knowledge of. No sir, thanks , but please don’t offer me membership of your party. My talent would stand no chance against the superstars in your party.
But sir, do invest some money for the sake of your party. Find a good English teacher who can teach elementary English to your entertainers. You have studied in Cambridge and don’t seem to be doing much anyway, so maybe you could offer them some advise. Please teach them that when someone says that he hates your party for its corruption or inefficiency or brutality, he means just that. It doesn’t mean that he is a Hindu fundamentalist or an RSS agent.
Also please invest on a good dentist. Make express reservation for Digvijay Singh, Kapil Sibal, Manish Tiwary………… what the heck, the list is long enough. Go find all the dentists you can. You won’t find enough.
You don’t have a problem. Its an epidemic. The doctors call it ‘ foot in the mouth’ disease.
Another advise. Send that great Digvijay singh back to MP. Let him lose it, instead of Delhi, for you. You are not winning there any way. Each time he opens his mouth, you lose some thousand supporters.
Haven’t heard from another favorite of mine, Rahul G; which means there are no elections round the corner. Remember the famous seasonal cuckoo comment by our Mamta Didi and he shooting back to the journalist, “ do I look like a cuckoo to you?” The charming journalist was too decent to comment. Please enroll him in your elementary English classes too.
Hope this helps.
Forgive me. I must now go. I have to pray. I know it didn’t help the naked baba. But still this world lives on hope.
Regards

Porn Nights - The epilogue

The response to porn nights was overwhelming. So much so that now I have become a Dr. Phil to a young student from Manipal. He considers me his sex guru.
He is my favorite. Because he is a big spender. I like people who come and spend money in my place.
I like to spin stories to him because when he gets excited, he sways in his seat like the Titanic,becomes hot and sweaty and guzzles my Mint mojitos like beer till his main course arrives. It usually is a large pizza – an all meat extravaganza or a sausage lover or chicken supreme. The large pizza is just a ploy to sit here as long as possible. I am plainly jealous. Here I am on a detox diet and still ‘ delightfully plump’ as someone kindly put it. I go on that diet at least once in six months. It’s a crazy diet. No alcohol. No caffeine. No meat. Removes all the toxins. And here he was loading himself with all the toxins and yet slim and trim.
Seriously I don’t really mind as he keeps my cash register ringing. Can’t really complain since the business was bad what with the exams and all. So I keep spinning. And if some one things I am being unethical, I cant claim the patent to that trick. It started long back, from times immemorial , when man discovered fire and invented wheels and Go Go bars. And when the girls there found how stupid men can really be. Its business really. You don’t have to be in Harvard to understand that.
But Yesterday he foxed me. He looked around surreptiously and in a whisper asked me if I had ever used Viagra. I asked him why would I. He was on his second Mojito as he said that he had heard that all old people needed it. Me old! I cheerfully told the waiter to add two slices of green chillies to his mojito.
“ Gives it a zing.” I said cheerfully. As he persisted , I asked him what was his age. He was sweating as usual as he chugged thirstily, “ Twenty”. Well at twenty, if he was so curious about Viagra, I thought something was really wrong there ( No Pun).
But he was anything but stupid. He suddenly said something that clearly left me speechless.
“ You know somewhere deep within all of us lurks a peeping tom. This peeping tom drives us to into other people’s lives and their bedrooms. Else there would be no porn and all those porn stars would be jobless.” I was speechless. Damn I knew he was a smart lad. But this coming from him?
We were quiet for a moment. Then he asked me that inevitable question. Did she meet you?
I was silent collecting my thoughts. What could I tell this youngster with raging hormones. His brain was in his pants. Such was his age. How could I tell that there was more to life than sex.
Its been more than a month since we met. That was a special meeting. Two strangers yet not quite. When we hugged each other, it felt like I had known her since long.
Honesty has a cascading effect. we sat for hours. From my restaurant to a bar and back, sharing all our inner secrets. She spoke about her drugs, rehab and countless teenage issues. I about…. Well lets us leave it for some other day. I looked at her with respect. She wasn’t afraid of her past. We all have our pasts. How many have the courage to own it?
Her name was Anagha. “Call me Anne”. Whats wrong with our wooly NRIs. When in India, they are more westernized and when abroad, they suddenly become more sanskritised. Why couldn’t they have named her Anne?
“ You know you are my best friend. My friends are all jealous of me.” She smiled again. I smiled too.
There was nothing extraordinary about her. But her beauty lay in that ordinariness.
I just loved everything about her. Her thick glasses, her braces ( Since when have people looked so pretty in braces! when she smiled , she lit the room. ), her trampish clothes and above all her honesty.
She let all her skeletons out. I am not disclosing them to any peeping toms.
As she got up to leave, she hugged me , her eyes moist. “ you are not half as ugly as I imagined.” We laughed. Her tears shone in the light making my throat choke. I was seeing a little girl not so long ago, hugging me as she hurt her toe. I had picked up my neice and kissed her toe and told her that her pain would evaporate and vanish in thin air. She believed it. But would this pretty girl believe me?
The randy boy poked me. What happened when you met her.
I stood up and smiled.
“ea venit, ea vidit, ea vicit” she came , she saw and she conquered.

Goodbye Anne,Hope your life is filled with happiness and sunshine and hope you remain as weird as ever and I as ugly as you thought me to be.
For that is what brought us together.

Porn Nights - The interlude.

Ten days of vacation and I have been made as redundant as the sofa I am sitting on. Except for the mandatory signing of vouchers and reconciling the bank statements, I am not needed. When I left I was the fulcrum. Today I am sitting on the periphery, a mute spectator. But I must confess that I am watching not without pride. Two months back these very boys were hesitant, stammering and stumbling. Now they walk with confident steps, smug in their ability.

Everything around is moving with slick precision. The meter reading from the cellar has been taken. The dine -in is spick. The cutlery is clean. The pasta is ready. The soup is boiled and ready to be served. The ovens have been switched on. The inventory has been checked. The monthly report is being prepared. Not much variance. No wastages. Losses within limits. The auditor has given them 96%.

One small glitch. I am delighted. I notice that both the ACs in the dine-in are on. With a knowing air, I tell Sandeep that we don’t switch on both the ACs at 10am. Politely, he informs me that they will run it for some time till the room is cool and then switch off one of them. My ego has been pricked. I sit down. They have built a wall around them with their skill and dedication which I would be unable to pierce and find my way back to the old days. Nothing much to do I simply observe.
The ice delivery boy comes. As usual he is carrying the ice in the right hand and with the left hand he is playing on the window as he walks leaving a sweaty trail. The shift –in- charge shouts. I smirk. This is routine. The kid doesn’t change. He has seventeen rupees and seventy five paise change, the balance of his bill. Sandeep groans. He has to be paid every day and he brings the same amount every day. We requested him many times to take the money weekly or fortnightly. But no.
Reitesh is as usual late. I know the precise moment when his hand would caress his hair. At the door he would wait momentarily, cough and then open. After the second window, his hand goes up. I smile once again.

No one is aware of my birthday. i have guarded it well. I feel proud like a virgin bride. As one grows , birthdays become more of an embarrassment.

With nothing much to do, I think of our date tonight.

Just then the mobile rings. It’s a new number. “ Happy birthday, writer.” I jump with a start. Its weirdo I am sure.

“ Hi there.” I pretend nonchalance.

“ Don’t pretend. I can see you jump.” I am sitting near the window and there is just the greenery.
“ I am watching you.” She giggles. Is she weird. She is watching through a pair of binoculars from one of the apartments of Premier green woods!!!

I am fazed. So to change the subject , I ask, “ what time are we meeting.”

“ we are not. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with near and dear ones.”

I tell her we are a long distance family. Our love oozes out when we are far. When we are in the same house, we sit in different rooms and chat on gtalk.
Our family never meets in the living room. It’s the facebook. And we don’t laugh. We lol.

She has an easy laugh.

“And I thought I am weird.” Ok so are we meeting?

She signs off saying she will give it a think. My bet is she wont come.

I am sure I will be left with my bottle of Chivas Regal, which my partners had thoughtfully packed when I was leaving. And I am not complaining.
We both make a great pair. I mean Chivas Regal and me.

I couldn’t agree more with her. “Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with some one you love.”

Porn Nights II

If I were asked to name the biggest sadist in the world , I would unhesitatingly name Dr. Martin Cooper. This guy has single handedly destroyed more homes by inventing mobiles than all the liquor in the world put together.
I can imagine all the young ladies sneering at this perfectly personal and logical theory with a monosyllable , “Duh”. Now Duh is to women, what fcuk is to men. The Norwegian nobel committee should seriously consider awarding a nobel prize for literature to those great men who invented these words. The world of literature would have been that much poorer without these great contributions. Half the world would go dyslexic. How many words can we toss up, which can be used in every conceivable way- verb, adverb ,adjective, gerund(now I got a little carried away).
Coming back to those lovely damsels, I do understand that the mobile to them is a life saving appendage more important than even a pacemaker and that they spend almost half of the day on it, but seriously girls ,have you considered the risks associated?
A couple of examples would suffice. A man is cheating on his wife. Pangs of guilt have destroyed his happiness. So he decides to give his wife a day to remember.
He comes home early, with a bouquet of her favourite lilies and food ordered from again her favorite, Mainland china. They have a great candle lit dinner with Frank Sinatra and Champagne for company.
Everything is picture perfect. The tense husband , afraid that nothing goes wrong ,decides to have a shower before the last act. His bad luck, that when he is in the shower, his flame, whose number he has so imaginatively saved as ‘kitten’ because she is so soft and cuddly, calls up. The wifey, who normally doesn’t give a damn about his phone has now been softened by all the pampering, lovingly picks up the phone. She feels its her duty to help her ‘stressed with business’ husband.
Now, God , while creating Kitten wanted to be fair. So he reduced the size of her brain to that of a lima bean while showering her with bigger assets elsewhere. “ Hi Duhling. Hope that old bitch is not listening.” The kitten purrs seductively not for a moment thinking . The old bitch is not only listening but listening loud and clear. The kitten can say good bye to her Tomcat for ever. There would be just one mouse left.
Consider another situation. You are in the train and are an insomniac like me. With a great difficulty you fall asleep. Suddenly two phones scream. The one having the ring tone of ‘Gayatri Mantra’ has woken up the gods in the heaven and the another, “ my name is shiela” has woken shiela sleeping in the third compartment from where we are. As for your jangling nerves, they are further jangled by the incessant chatter into the wee hours. You can say good bye to sleep.
On return to india , I had managed my life beautifully without a mobile or a watch or a pen for almost six months till I started this business. My bad luck that Dr. cooper had a bigger competition in the field of sadism. They call him Apple.
It was on this iphone while I was returning from Thailand after a sun soaked, mobile less vacation that I received this mail.
My anonymous fan was reaching Manipal on Tuesday and would I be free to meet her for dinner. I was left chatting with her for the rest of my journey. I am Skipping the details of this chat, because I remember the advise of my young friend when I started first blogging.
Keep the posts short. KISS. ( Keep it short, stupid). People have very low span of concentration.
I am in a quandary.
I am not sure where to take her. Guzzlers inn or Blue water, if she drinks. Opium if she smokes hookah. Or just a plain old fashioned pizza at my place. It is difficult to position her. Maybe i will leave it to her.
One good thing about going on a vacation is that the staff doesn’t depend on you. They are running the store better than I was doing. So I wouldn’t feel guilty of ignoring my business.
Waiting now for the D Day and more weirdness.

" Porn Nights"

A young reader complimented a recent article that I wrote. Pleased as punch I continued to read. He sheepishly added that he, however, read it because he had read Prom as porn in my article ‘Of Prom Nights and more’.

I wished that he could have been a little dishonest. I really am not against Porn. Much of my brothers from across the border come and read my blog only when they feel a whiff of porn. Sadly writing porn is not my forte. That kind of imagination really has eluded me. But he robbed me of my two minutes of happiness. “ Well I too was searching for my two minutes of happiness.” He added. I had no answer. He had a point. “ Each to his own poison.” My boss would always say.

If we could celebrate sex in the temples in Khajuraho and write reams about it, he could also celebrate sex the way he thought was right. After all we all live in a free world.

Any way sex for me , is more between the ears than in the groin. I told him so and requested him that next time better appreciate my posts for what they really mean and not what he perceives them to mean. But he has an amazing sense of humor. He asked me , tongue in cheek, if he knew anyone as slutty as him. His candor was totally disarming. He was young and hence not a hypocrite. I laughed loud.

Seriously I told him that enjoying porn doesn’t make him slutty. He asked back if I watched porn. I candidly told him that I did when I was young but now I feel it more like monkeys performing in a zoo. “ Horizontal jogging” I remarked, borrowing from that master piece, “ Yes Prime minister.” I passed the test. He too liked my humor.

We must have chatted for over an hour which was remarkable since I no longer chat . He asked me if we could be friends. I thought about it. Why not? I had not laughed so much for quite sometime. And any way it was only a virtual relationship.

Revels is the largest cultural and musical fest of South India. It is hosted annually in Manipal. He informed me that he was visiting Manipal too attend it and maybe we could hook up for a drink or dinner.

My fingers were tired of tapping the keyboard. I said let me think it over and wished him a good night.
He stopped me and said he had another confession to make.

Now what? My first thought was that he had broken up with his girl and wanted to discuss a broken relationship. Why else would anyone sit and chat with a middle aged man. But I was not going to play agony aunt. I braced for his confession.

“ What would you say if I told you that I am a girl?”

We are meeting next week. Now nothing she tells me is going to shock me. She could be a transvestite or a junkie or simply an old bored bag! There is just a tiny hope.
Maybe she is just a normal girl having fun being anonymous. whatever she was, she had tossed me like a dead rat the whole night and played like a wild cat.

Just as I was going to sleep, a thought struck me. Why is it always me?!!!!