Long goes my fascination for ice-cream. It would be an understatement to say that I love ice-cream. I worship the man who invented it and now my love has also passed to the person who mixed it with cake.

Bake a cake and toss it at the side of icecream, mouth watering??? U bet it is.

It all started with the kulfiwala who used to come during hot summer afternoons. And what he offered was delicious matka kulfi, malai kulfi and just for a buck !!!! No wonder I always had to lie about a flat tire to my parents

How do I forget to mention the ice-gola, for people who have’nt had it shame on you . The crushed ice with so many juicy flavour, orange , rose, kala-khatta, pineapple. After school all of us girls would run to the gola cart and feed ourselves happily . Happiness was so cheap then.

Chocobars and icecandies, way before Casatta days. We did not have refrigerator back then so had to visit an ice-cream parlour every-time I wanted to have one. It just got better always.

So you see I have romanticized icecream in all forms  and my sweet fate introduced me to Choclate truffle . Me and my friend would drive her kinetic at crazy hours in Pune just to have a bite of Cornetto. We used to trick the warden giving her any unbileiveable crappy reason and get out of the hostel late in the night , just to eat the sweet super delicious stuff.

And now you ask has God been kind enough for my never ending love , yes he has other wise how would you explain Gelato, Coldstone , Ben and Jerry , Real and Chocolata

Ps: It all started with some randon discussion on ice-cream and I had to have a story , if you know what I mean!!!

Dil se re…
Dil se re…
Dil to aakhir dil haina  . meethi si mushkil  hai na..
piya piya… jiya jiya…

Dil se reeeeeeeeee..

Two things reminded me of Calcutta today.

One was the arrival of a good friend who was working in that wonderful city. Over home-made khichdi (God bless the inventor of the pressure cooker) and insufficient cutlery we spoke of the six-rupee auto rides and the momos and the crazy things which can only happen in that city.

I like to think that I am an adopted child of kolkata. I guess its just so bloody impossible to be indifferent towards that city. Either you hate it or love it. And the more you love it, the more you complain about the dirt and the heat (uff kee adbhoot gorom) and the mad bongs going “hain hain” all over the place.

The other was an article in open magazine about how the turnover of food stalls at the Book Fair was more than that of the publishers. By a pretty decent margin.

And I can totally imagine the bhadrolok in their monkey caps and “maafler” biting into another telebhaja and making sure that poor Shunty’s is not suffering from some new form of cold.

And the clear drops of dew on Maidan and the tram rides through the smoky city. And the yellow taxis coughing and shivering in the cool evening breeze.

And I remember the taste of a kabiraji and the cool, cool taste of daab sherbet in me mouth and I wish I could take it with me wherever I go.

And I think about the sweet, crazy and insanely talkative people of that wonderful city. The ferry rides across the Hooghly (it is not the ganga apparently)

Cycled through this city in the middle of the night and it felt wonderful. The broad avenues and the empty roads and the sweet, lingering chill of winter on my face.

If only those fukin dogs wouldn’t attack me for no fukin reason, it would all be good. Bastards really like the concept of catch-catch. It gets real fun in the fog cause then they all appear out of nowhere. And there I am: trying to swat them away with highly inadequate “shoo shoo”’s while they nip at me ankles.

I am sitting on me desk right now and it is a little cold outside. There is a glass of hot, sweet milk on me table and I can see the steam rise slowly off the top of the glass. The hot bath was nice and relaxing.

I know that there will always be some friends I can count on for anything.

The chat box is open and the words are making me smile.

There are not too many things I wish for in this world.

Not too many.

“Just Because you want to b like someone else,you cant b come like someone else”!Some people are gifted!

Above lines are harsh but v simple in the meaning.Dear ‘readers’ fathom the depth what i meant when i say that!

Will b back soon,cant i keep myself away from here,goin to increase the frequency so type the url http://mylifewithmyself.wordpress.com as often as you brush your teeth.

@B.D.get well soon,hope you are recovering faster now…Bantu will b back v soon…with lot of posts here(this much i can do for you).Thanks to you.Miss u.
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when i b come emotional,it doesnt mean,i dnt know how to fight:)

@Female frnds,before some of you would spill something hot on your laps after reading a ‘miss u’ in this post you would b as confused as a dog in a rock show,i have seen 30 holis and deewalis and 1 earth quake also,people come and go but some stay with you always!this ‘miss you’ is for that special!
Chill yaaronnnnnnn,i need 16 art movies back to back, to write something serious,will b back in as usual style and with my crap grammar v soon!

Discliamer: The opinions expressed on his site are the authors personal views and do not reflect to any others in any way.

Watched the movie ‘Rann’ on Sunday evening. The movie was good and well made. If we are looking for entertainment/Fun/Comedy…this is not the choice.

Rann is a  serious movie which takes on role of Media(TRPs, Break-ing News, Channals Fights, Nexus b/w Media and politicians) on a whole.

Big B – As always the rocked. Climax scene was utilimate with punch dialogues. Sudeep acting was awesome. Ritesh looks  different and did his best. Gul panag role looks very small  – She does deserves longer part. Paresh was terrific. RGV back in form. 

Backgound score is not as impactful as it was for previous ramu’s films(Sarkar, Company,Satya).

I would definitely recommend it for viewers who patronise serious cinema.

I cannot get over the whole Tweety being the greatest philosopher ever.

The first time the putheecat is spotted it is the realisation that the End is inevitable. And then it is confirmed by the “I did, I did”, an acceptance of the finite nature of Existence itself. I like to think that while the intellectuals are wanking off to camus and socrates, little kids all over the world are watching the comics and getting all wise.

Scoobs and me made dinner today. Or rather he made it while I watched and made random comments. Things did get slightly tense while waiting for the pressure cooker to explode though. Waiting outside the kitchen for the explosion, hiding with our backs to the wall and then feeling extremely grateful that there was no boom.

There is a lone apple in my fridge. I am feeling quite sorry for it. Sitting there on the top shelf with nothing but the frozen spoon to keep it company.

It is amazing how words sound in your head. Like when you read something, you change the voice in which it is being read no? Was going through the blogroll on the right and imaging how each of them would sound in blogsphere.

For example Ms. AGG (aka Goddess) would be nonchalantly biting into a lychee while recounting another hilarious anecdote. Slightly lazy voice bursting into hyperactivity now and then (especially when on the topic of her mom)

Mr. Sroyon, the half boy half robot nutjob, would have a slightly less robotic tone in the Blogsphere. The narcissism would, however, remain.

Quaker would have a terribly stiff (think Viagra OD) upper lip accent and a slightly squeaky voice. Like an aristocrat at a horse race.

Ms. Mentalie would speak in calm, measured tones. Deep laugh.

Ms. Subtle Signs would probably speak in sign language. Or carry a paintbrush with a canvas and paints in her pockets. Splash together her words.

I shall stop now.

Probably the most annoying thing about Facebook is the friend request thingie. And what is a friends “request” anyway? Huh? What? What exactly is it that you are requesting?

How people send you these requests even though they have never fukin spoken to you in their lives. I mean fine, maybe a “hi” and a “hello” and perhaps even a “Is that dal on your beard” but nothing, no nothing beyond that.

And then when you think “Oh okay, we can communicate better through this fukin social networking site” and so you click on the “Accept Friend Request” and then….what. Fukin nothing. Not even a “Oh hello, i sent you a fukin request and you fukin accepted it. Thanks”. Nope. Nada.

What the bloody hell.

Yup. They did. No great news but it still made me feel rather connected and all that. I suppose writing letters is not really happening these days. Perhaps I should sit down and write a few of ‘em. Keep them in plastic bags so that someone can sell then a thousand years from now and make millions. “Mode of Communication, circa 2010 AD”

Word on the “street” is that the Delhi Police may now be in charge of enforcing the ban on plastic bags. One shop keeper told me that this would be pretty nice; in his own words “Delhi police ko khaane ki practice hai”. I like to believe that the “common man” is not as clueless as some would lead you to think.

It is a misconception that you cannot place a price on a human being. There are laws and rules which tell you how much money your family gets if you die. How much money to be awarded for loss of “love and affection”, for “future prospects” etc etc. The one I love the most is award for “loss of consort”. Yup. They evaluate the price of your saxy time equipment. Wonderfully comforting.

Spent a long, lazy afternoon exploring the streets of Purana Dilli with fellow loafing mate. Had Daulat ka chaat. Truly wonderful creation though now I want to have an “original version”. Perhaps I should go to Lucknow.

I guess what I love about this city is the way people embrace Life. Open hearts and open arms. And a few cuss words thrown in for good measure.

Have made a practice of storing ancient messages on me phone and going through them when I am terribly bored. Quite nice since most of them are real cryptic one liners which only make sense if the context is remembered. SMS trip down memory lane.

Buffalo ‘66 is another interesting movie I plan to finish in the coming days.

Bought me self a kilo of peas the other day. The plan is to make some sort of sabji. Or maybe a soup.

Green piss soup anyone?

PS : And this is what I’ve been doing at my work-station lately …  (by lately i mean 1.2 years back)

A lot of free time means you are not utilizing it

So, after the charged up posts about IITs, 3 idiots and education system, here is a piece of peaceful domestic tip. “Vanish” stain remover works as advertised!

So, I had this dress that I wore to the birthday party of a kid (I wrote somewhere else that I am feeling like getting old. Attending more wedding anniversaries and kids’ birthday parties than friends’ birthday treats!). There was this beautiful and extremely tasty birthday cake there. But it had some funnny blue color in it, which accidently got onto my dress and stained it badly. Immediate attempts to put water only made the stain spread; so I did not try too hard. Since then it was just lying around. I could not trust my maid to hande the party dress and I was not sure even dry cleaner would agree to get that stain removed.

But recently, Abhaya decided to buy a trial pack of Vanish for some of his clothes. He hasn’t used it yet, but I decided to take a chance yesterday on my dress. Just put some detergent and Vanish in water and soaked the dress. After a while I saw that the stain had faded a bit. I tried rubbing it to remove the remaining. But that did not seem to be working. So, I just let it soak for a little longer. Went out to watch a movie and after coming back, a pleasant surprise was waiting. The stain was gone. No rubbing, no great cleaning skills, nothing. And it had not affected the color of the fabric. It did work almost like a magic.

And no Reckitt Benckiser has not paid me for writing this post Just thought it will help some other clueless-about-house-work-like-us people around me!

There really is nothing like it. One cup of sweet chai. One “bun” with those sweet thingies in the bread. Sliced and loaded with butter. Proper, non-kanjoos, “my butter is your butter” type spread. Dip bun in chai, take a look around, dip once again and then bite.

I have noticed that there is an incredible amount of procedure which surrounds food items. It is not something you learn immediately, more through practice and observation.

Coffee in Bangalore is one such item. Pour from tumbler to small glass and then back again. For the longest time I did not know whether you should drink from the glass first or the tumbler. I still am kinda unsure so I split between the two. The first sip is taken from the tumbler and the rest of it is sipped from the chotta steel glass. With those loud slurp slurp noises.

There is this pao bhaji shop in Tardeo which has become ridiculously famous. Sardar’s pao bhaji. Good stuff and loaded with butter. Try the cheese version. Your heart actually stops working for a minute or two. I swear. There is a reason why the hospital is so close by. Mother swear.

Anyway, so sat there at Sardar’s and listened to the conversations around me. Quite like doing that. Secret spy and all that shit.

Also went into the Ducati showroom and pretended to want to buy a Hyper. They have a 1198 and a Monster on display but I think you have to be kinda retarded to pick one of those up. The Hyper though….I would give it some serious thought. If I had the frikkin money that is.

A lot of people do not like the idea of money. Root of all evil and all that crap. I think it makes life a lot simpler cause you know what you can get and what you cannot.

They have these kiddy rides in Phoenix Mills. Those things which go round in the air? One of the compartments has the face of a clearly paedophillic bear. Another has a bunny whose eyes appear to be stapled together.

My writing godmother describes Avatar as pocahontas on crack. I don’t know if she came up with that herself but it totally cracked me up. Think I should go watch it.

I remember the first time I saw you in the eye!!! I had seen nothing as beautiful as you before , nothing as perfect as you.  I was thrilled with the idea of spending that time with you. It was a new experience, and with the options that you gave me and the flexibility , it was awesome.

I have cried and laughed and smiled and danced with you. I have enjoyed every emotion and every feeling with you. Each time  I came to you , it was an altogether different experience , a new feeling as if it was all for real.

I cannot recollect my Pune days without you. Weekends were like incomplete without seeing you. No matter however busy you were you always made time for me and gave me that special place

We have played so many games won and lost together. We have had so many discussions on your terrace, coffee was like re-defined when had with you. So many of our stupid meaning less fights were solved right there on your terrace , and the never ending chatting sessions!!!!

You remember the  unplanned visits?? The nights that we spent together? Be it summer or winter , we just made it through.

And today when years after I come back to you , you give me the same smile. You embrace me with the same warmth. I feel comfortable sitting their on those comfortable chairs, eating that hot pop-corn and watching “Rocket Singh”.

I have missed you eSquare..

PS: Don’t hit me now.. What did you guys think??? Ahmmmm s4n8eep???? phaleeeease

Dhoom Taana Tadum Tanana nana
Dhoom Taana Tadum Tanana nana
Dhoom Taana dirna dirna….

Kaise… naino se nain milaaun sajnaa
Kaise… mai aise naa ghabraaun sajnaa
Kaise… aaye naa aise mohe laaj sajnaa
Chhoona na dekho mohe aaj sajnaa

I guess its been a while since last time I posted on this blog. You see busy people have time for everything, lazy people just can’t manage. And as I am more lazy than some of the script-writers at YRF studio I just ignored this blog for last two weeks. But as every good thing comes to an end, even it has. So to your discomfort I have decided to post this one here.

No. Don’t worry, though I want to again put some random update about uneventful life of a software engineer, I wont. This post is not a long one and I wont talk much today, rather for a pleasant change I decide to give you a chance to do some talking and give control to you people.

Yes my dear readers I have decide to take a survey among my so called readers. Considering the hits I get on daily basis on my blog, I shouldn’t even think of putting such a survey, But you see lets-give-it-chance was my assumption behind this whole thing.

Being a creatively retarded I had to copy most of the question from enidhi’s blog. I have added/modified some of the question for my alleged readers comfort. I created a survey on google docs and while embedding that survey here I realized that frames are not supported by wordpress. So I cant embed the survey here *slap myself* . I know its very inconvenient to click links on any blog but my lord I don’t have any other option so I urge you to please click on the below link to fill the survey form. All questions are optional, so you can answer only those questions which you find interesting enough.

P.S. : Its a simple survey and will not take more than 23.7 sec if you are horrible at clicking your mouse buttons, else flat 17 sec.

P.P.S. : If you put more than 4 abusive words I shall not consider your feedback.heh

P.P.P.S : And don’t kill me for that last question

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updated : Please mention your name or email id in poll so I know who you are..just a request. And it would be great if you can tell me what you really hate/love about me in feedback section. Please.

Click for survey [link]

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Source : enidhi.net

Like any other well disciplined guy,nt so successful,but yet can vaunt about himself on his blogs,crap me.I dash to work every day.AC cab.98.3FM,Radio Mirchi is smiting my ears.As usual, the Driver(a Bihari) crunches Khaini and offers me too,unless i stare on him angrily what makes him a deaf forever,at least for an hour.You ass,dnt you see Miss Maria?

It takes me around an hour to reach my office,the precious time in the cab,in which i meticulously plan how to fool my Boss today,which songs i would listen today, long list.See, how careless i m at my work.Ouch,and in this time period,watching sea of cars,bikes,street dogs,dingy cows ,their equally dingy kids too.Open potholes,horrible.And the eyes are always on Traffic signals.Traffic Jams.

Now if the light is red,it is a surely void stage of life.Like ones, you witness in side the lift,bathroom,or a bad date.When you just wait, till it gets over.You count your pin card number,you memorize the quote you find behind the trucks,you do all these futile things to get over from this period.Wait,i often check my hair in the rear mirror view.though this is once again a girly thing to do.But i do this.Or like any other vexing fellow you can stare at other people,waiting in their cars, confused more than me,hurried more than a marathon runner.And i love staring on them.

Ladies first.i know kalpana chawla went to space and sunita williams too.dnt tell me.we appreciate them too really.But excuse me,for i mince from my personal experience.Women are terrible drivers.Either they drive slow enough to make Atal Bihari Vajpayee a horse,or they drive so fast like they have a friend on the back seat who is goin to deliver a baby within 3seconds.
They spend their waiting time,polishing lips,combing ,and staring on guys like me whether anyone watches them or not.Attention,pretty shameful.Smart, sassy, young Delhi gals with their boyfriends(who doesnt these days? contact me) may manage to smite her bf’s cheeks.and can deliver worms for the society.if you want happy life.just stay away from them.Now dnt get excited and inform all these to national commission of women chief.i m a highly connected chap,remember.

Now “aamir baap ka bigraa aulaad”.No point working.No point trying something on his own.Just wake up at 12.Ramu kaka jumps over from the kitchen and spreads kaju-burfi along with big big apples plus a fresh amol butter.But dude loves wine only.that kinda chap.The sort which comes out from a big car mostly esteem honda city,tattooed arms,biceps big enough to forget dara singh,on the back of windshield stickers which say-’speed dragon’/party all the time/only fun etc.and other lines with similar meanings.Vulgar punjabi music is adding the fuel in the scene.And finding them at the traffic signals on my way to office is as easy as finding a criminal at Muzaffarpur.
Now like me-who are in their late 20s or just entered in their 30s.who always cheated in their exams.but yet managed to grab good jobs.with top companies.confused but yet very happy.they often appear cool,they dnt have that miffed look you see in the corporate world,they are nt senior managers yet.or VP.yet.they will b wait.Incidently i belong to this group.you have seen all these adjectives above.

You see,looking at them at the traffic signals…waiting for the green light.oye sohniye “green”?:)Different people.Different feelings.Different smiles.Stuff above is as misplaced as my IIT-JEE chemistry paper in which i painted the entire copy by a red sketch pen.and now me writing this blog. but now i need to see the match.lets see what my yuvi would do today.just a check.