A grand wedding

That was definitely a grandiose wedding. I had gone with complete preparation*. The ambience was perfect, bearers in clean outfit. I believed that the stage was set to end my dieting regime.

Ah the damn cold, I had picked it up from my friend, posed a threat to the gala time that stood ahead of me. Man proposes and god exposes errr I guess he disposes.I wouldn’t let go of a chance so easily, there it was the chicken soup – the ultimate curator of cold. Whichever butcher spread the rumour, human cold seems to be the prime threat to a chicken’s life.

I was roaming about in the darkness (darkness is referred to as ‘pleasing’ ambience in star hotels) to select a proper side dish for my naan. I never believed that ‘J’ could be placed next to ‘X’ or a ‘Z’ in an English word, well only until I browsed through the menu cards that were so majestically displayed. One of them was christened “bangala dumpa koora” which reminded me of a Zambian president. It looked shiny, slippery and semi curdled. It tasted great except that it was a trifle too sweet.

On successful completion of many rounds each with generous helpings of my new found side-dish, I decided to call it quits with a dessert.

The side-dish had a unique characteristic in that it was served even for a dessert!
Oh my goodness!! It took me some time to realise that those curious glances were not meant to be an appreciation for my fashionable clothes.

*Preparation: 2 chapathis in the morning, 2 for lunch and none for dinner from a week prior to the wedding.

Fathering a Babe...

Dads are generally good. They provide us food, clothing, comfort (am writing with a glossy eye). They are the breadwinners of the family. However, they act in the weirdest possible manner when they father a CHICK.

I have had many encounters with such Dads. They interrogate the caller thoroughly before letting it pass to their beloved daughter. In computer terminology they are analogous to FIREWALLS. Although we have mastered the ways of hacking through them they can get annoying at times. There are different types of Dads:

#1. THE NAGGING CHARACTER

Me: Can I talk to XYZ uncle?
Dad Of Chick: Who’s calling?
Me: vikram
DOC: Are you her classmate?
Me: Yes. Infact bench mates for four years.
DOC: hmm..So where are you from?
Me: T.nagar
Doc: What’s your dad?
Me: Working for a private firm.
Doc: Oh I C. So you were the one who came for her b’day party two days back?
Me: No. Haven’t been to your house before.
Doc: oh. She is busy right now. I’ll ask her to give you a call later.
click

#2 The always NO character

time: 8:30 am
Me: Can I talk to XYZ uncle?
Doc: She’s sleeping. Hasn’t gotten up yet.
click

time: 12o clock afternoon
Me: Can I talk to her uncle?
Doc: She’s still sleeping. I guess she’s feeling too tierd.
click

time: 7:30 pm
Me: Can I talk to her atleast now uncle?
Doc: Oh! You should have called her early. She’s gone to bed you see.
Me: Do you have a caller Id at home?
Doc: No. She wasn’t actually feeling alright and I advised her to go to bed.
Me: and with whom?
click

Honesty may be the best policy but…

Do Miss. Universe contestants come from other planets in spaceships? I thought the organizers had done justice to the name when priyanka chopra was selected as the beauty queen. But to my dismay, I found out that she hails somewhere from India.
Before deviating any further from the crux of the issue, here are a few guidelines to win the Miss universe pageant.
1.Never say the truth.
2.Be as impractical as possible.
3.Make them believe you’ll be one among the masses.

For example, when the judge asks you to imagine your house on fire. Inside the burning house are trapped your three month old child and a mother Teresa’s photo. Which one would you save first?
A rational, practical and a sensible person would save the child, but to win the miss universe title you must feel (and feel strongly) that mother Teresa’s photo is more important than the child (although Mother Teresa herself, if alive, would not approve of it).

Let me pose another situation now. Don’t look down. No cheating.

You’re jogging on a lonely highway (god knows why) and you find your 3 month-old peeping into a manhole. The same instant you find a cockroach crossing the road, you find a speeding truck down the lane. Whom will you save first?
Congratulations, if you wanted to save the cockroach. You’re on the right path to becoming the Miss.Universe. Well, if you’re a man, you still hold a chance. You might have some minor problems with the swimsuit round.