Facts n Fiction

Taking over from the hangover of the histories that I mentioned yesterday, I am now going to pen down my experiments with the icons of that history. Yes, indeed, I did try every single type of drink - I practice what I preach, you see ;-). It will not be possible for me to express in precise words what the experience was like, when tasting some of those beautifully blended, well mixed, scrumptious drinks. Hence, I will constrain myself to just exhibiting my experiments with truth :-D Standing (L-R): That is some nalla blended scotch whisky , this was my first trial in an attempt to save some pounds. I don't even remember the name of this whisky - not important anyways. Red Label : Laal cchhadi (stick) maidan khadi, kya khoob chadhee, kya khoob chadhee (kick) . That says it all and I am sure you all will agree. Smirnoff Ice - a pre-mixed Smirnoff Vodka with some lime flavour. It tastes ok. Just chill it, gulp it, forget it. Teacher's Highland Cream Blended Scotch Wh

Tired of passing away my time indolently, I browsed some folders on my computer to cleanup unwanted stuff.  I jumped from folder to folder relentlessly because suddenly everything appeared important to me. However, soon my agony was vanishing and lips turned into a smiling curve. I found a folder that had pictures of my London trip. Aww! Nothing is so very special about it. Yet some pictures made me feel proud about my use of camera, creativity, and presence of mind. I had been too a pub once (I mostly preferred my drink at home, that made it economical as well), and found the secret to elixir of life. Until then I had fancied various types of drink that I had taken, I had simply loved them; they were utterly awesome. This pub, however, helped me understand what drink is what. I could have used the Internet to find out about drinks, but koun itni takleef le . At this pub, all the required information was available ekdum bana banaya . Fortunately enough I was carrying my digicam

Travelling between Mumbai and Pune has become kind of a routine, as I have been doing it since last 3 years. There is no new wonderful or exciting experience about the journey anymore. However, yesterday when going back to Pune from Mumbai, I had a refreshing occurrence. As usual, dear darling Neeta Volvo took her regular halt at a food mall after the Khalapur toll junction. Neeta Volvo sucks, by the way, yet I travel with her to beat the afternoon heat and also that she drops me just at the doorstep of my Pune home. At the food mall, I wait in the queue to buy a coupon for snacks and tea. I see four to five people in front of me walking away with the coupons, some currency notes, and few Éclairs. At my turn, I buy a vada paav and a coffee. In that Neeta food mall, a vada paav costs Rs. 15, by far the costliest vada paav I have ever had (I have had vada paavs since my childhood starting from 50 ps. to Re. 1 to Rs. 2 to Rs. 3 to Rs. 5 to now Rs. 15), and a coffee worth Rs. 22. I buy

Trying to find an address in some of the “ chiggy wiggy ” lanes of Borivali (W), I took a halt under the shade of a bus stop to figure out exactly where I was and where I should proceed next. With the little visiting card, on which was the address where I wanted to go, I tried to fan myself for some cool breeze – no use, though. I began to wipe the trickles of my sweat that streamed down from my forehead and went on to kiss my cheeks. After a few “ phews ” and “ haaas ” and " husssh ", I started looking around again. My eyeballs bounced upon an advertisement on one of the wall on the other side of the road. That was the only ad on that wall, the rest just said “ Yethe Mutu Naye ”, “ Yahan Peshaab Karna Mana Hai ”, “ Kripaya Paan Khake Na Thukein ”, “ Stick No Bills ”, and other similar warning messages. No one really cared to read though – three men were standing facing the wall pouring their warm feelings on the warning message that told them not to do so. Coming back to th

The glass windows, Quaked in terror. And the curtains, Curled up in fear. The decibels outside, Ruptured my ear. A noisy, smoky Diwali, Repeats this year. I sat in my patio-like balcony looking outside the glass windows. I had made sure that I had latched them airtight. Yet, they shuddered once in a while. A little time later, the same balcony from where I had enjoyed the golden-orange skies during the sunset, appeared to me like a warfront, an Indo-Pak border where constant firing continued from either side. However, I eventually composed myself to the fact that it is Diwali time, and what I thought of as bullets, bombs, and hand grenades were actually just crackers. I am amused how people enjoy Diwali in such destructive manner – personal, financial, environmental, and social as well. Ahh! Let me confess though, that I too had burst some crackers in my childhood, but soon sanity had blessed me and my father’s wallet. I had given up the act of bursting crackers long back (

All of a sudden I am feeling weary And the life too Has turned little scary May be I just realised Things are just, temporary

From where I started There was no beginning And where I head There appears to be no end Life goes in circle, some say But mine seems like an infinity