The "Jatti" thieves

Based on a true story.

Yesterday our village was attacked by the Jatti(underwear) thieves. Before we get into what really happened, who are these Jatti thieves? For the past week or so the villages around Coimbatore are invaded by a bunch of ruthless thieves who are popularly known as the jatti thieves(தி ஜட்டி தீவ்ஸ்). Why are they called the jatti thieves? not cos they steal the branded jattis hanging on the cloth line but cos, when they come for their mission they come wearing only their jattis. Only Jattis? yeah only cut-jattis. They also cover themselves in some kind of greasy and slippery oil so it becomes impossible to catch them by hand.They are a group of four to six men and the number changes according to the mission. People who have seen them report that they were well built, tall, dark and looked like monsters. These ruthless killing machines choose one village for a night. They carry only a very few weapons, a little knife, a rod with sharp nails and a hammer.They enter like cats clad in their dark jattis, they hide in the darkest corners of the village, they choose the lonely house which is located outside the main village and as the the village slowly gets to sleep they emerge from the darkness and break open the doors.They enter without making a noise.They wake you up with their knives, one of them catches hold of the youngest in the house placing a knife in the junction of the head and the chest, the second one collects the mobile phones and breaks them on the floor, the third one takes refuge of the people in the house as the fourth one breaks open the vaults and clutches the jewellery from the women. Finally they lock you in a room and tie your hands and mouth. When they are done, they leave the house locking it from the out and escape into the nearby grooves.It all happens like it was already written. If you play their tune, all you loose would only be your possessions. If at all if you are going to revolt then there will be blood. They have scissored the right ear of a grandma who refused to give away her ear-ring, they have pierced the head of a few with the nail rod, and one has lost his eye as the nail rod hit his face.Casualties? reportedly two till date. Nobody knows who they are.They don't look like locals, people say they speak Hindi and sometimes broken Tamil too. The worth of the stolen has crossed a few million in rupees.Police? Yeah they come after the thieves leave and they leave before the thieves come again!.The commissioner has ordered for a shoot at sight and the police has already informed the villagers to murder the thieves if they are caught.

It was just another Saturday for me.Sitting inside my brown roofed village house, I was lost in the web on my over-heated PC. It was nearing eight in the evening.It was then when my Uncle called me sayin the thieves entered the village next to us. They were hiding inside the toilet of a house when a little girl spotted them, as the girl started shouting they fled the place. The four seasoned thieves were chased by some hundred men but soon they lost track as the thieves singled out and each escaped in a direction.My Uncle said two hundred men from nearly three villages are in search for the thieves in all the grooves around. I said let me know if they are caught and i got back to my work. Hours passed and my Uncle came home, their search had turned futile, but the whole of the village was speaking about the thieves. My uncle was sayin how cruel they were to the people and said most villagers had sweared to kill them if caught.Hours passed, i sat with my Uncle as he was watching Royal challengers trash CSK. His phone rang again a voice shouted "the thieves are hiding in the common marriage hall near the temple". We ran there just to see that the whole village had come to life in the mid-night, hundreds of men with huge and round sticks were running in all the directions. A huge crowd had gathered before the hall which was located at a safe distance from the village. We went there and the search was on, the bushes were cut down, huge lights were brought in. The person who reportedly saw the thieves said, they were standing on the walls wearing only their jattis and as he approached them, they blinded his sight and ran away. Hundreds were searching in places nearby the hall, I never knew there were so many people in my village.I was never a part of the social life of this village, and many were looking at me "who is this guy". I was wondering if i go for a leak removing my trousers and if these guys are gonna sight me with my jattis then im sure they are gonna think im one of the "jatti thief" and they will beat me to death. So i stayed with my uncle and the people i knew. The place was completely scanned and it was decided that it was a rumour that the thieves were in the village, we were starting for our houses and suddenly we heard a few women scream wild somewhere nearby. The crowd rushed there, the women were restlessly shouting that the thieves just ran crossing them. A women said a man was hiding inside the bushes and when she asked he who he was, he pushed her down and ran away. Suddenly people realised the kind of mess that they were into, the brutal thieves are now inside the village and they can do anything to the innocent lives. A wave of tension started spreading across. My Uncle asked me to rush home as the people in my house were already asleep. Yeah people i was asked to be the Man of my home then. I was kind of grinning inside me cos all these are hell new to me. Came home and switched on the lights, made sure that the bushes around were safe, like the cops in hollywood movies i crawled around and spyed in our neighborhood, i started practising some punches in the air, i asked my grandmother to put a thilak on my forehead and say "vetriyoda thirumbivaa raasa". As my grandma searched for a broom i left my house, i knew its gonna be a long night ahead and i took my iPod with me. groups of young men were roaming all over the place each armoured with heavy weapons, there were faces with anger and tension . I should have looked like an asshole to sport an iPod in that crowd, anyways stupidity happens. i joined the crowd which was searching in the directions pointed by the women, teams were built and each was assigned a task. Some young men took the task of roaming around in the bikes, and some searching individual homes. Nobody took me in their teams. They knew i was not a villager.I started roaming around alone, i called my Uncle and he said he was busy somewhere else searching for them. They said the thieves were hiding somewhere in the little village and the search was getting intense. Someone would shout "Hey i saw a thief here" and before the people reach there someone from the other end of the village would call that someone spotted the thief trying to jump a wall. People started circling in and around the village and it became a Tom and Jerry story. I came home to see that my orders were not in place and everyone including my little cousin were standing outside the house.ARGH!, then I kept roaming for sometime, I kept hearing Akon's new album, I knew i was too careless, I knew i din know the seriousness of the situation, i was wondering what if he suddenly emerges from the bushes, he had a knife and a rod but I only had an Ipod and a Motorazr.I was standing in some dark corner and there were no many people around in that street, a man i knew came in his bike. He saw me alone there, he suddenly handed over a huge wooden rod which weight a few extra pounds and said "mapla, inga yaarum illa naan nayaker thatava varasolren neenga intha theruva pathukonga"(there is no one in this street, ill ask nayaker thatha(an old man) to join you, you both take care of this street). I was like are you joking, but i gladly accepted the offer. Soon the old man too joined me, we both were standing in the corners of the street. He had a larger stick, yeah people an old man/young man combo to save the village.

I stood there keeping my face as stern as possible. I knew i would burst into laughter any second. The world is still believing me. I was so cool that the thatha standing near me was annoyed with my carelessness. I was like who is going to come here to this street. And my phone rang!!!. My uncle said "Vicky who is near the 3rd street", i said "myself and the old man,Y?" and my uncle said the sweetest lines ever said, lines that ill never forget all my life "i heard that the thieves are running towards the third street and they are heavily armed". The most intense moment of my life, no people i din piss out there believe me. I was motionless, i said this to the grandpa near me and he started tying his dothi up getting ready for an encounter with the beasts. What am i gonna do now!? I said to myself "No Vicky,Now you are not a software engineer who works with Steve, Matt and Davidson. You are no more the guy who visits the village for sleep and food, you are no more a guest here, you are now a part of this village, you now shoulder the responsibility to safe guard your motherland(yes! my mom was born here), you are a angry young man, you are Rambo, you are the native village warrior, you are the man that the world wants and the man that the world is searching for.Get ready for the toughest night of your life and tonight lets dine in hell". I was all charged up, i folded my shirt till my shoulders, i curved my newly grown moustach. I was like "Vaangada! vaanga! Seriyana ambalaya iruntha vaanga da"(Come thieves come to me, if you are a man and if you have your balls intact, come to me and cross me). They never came! I was waitin there for a few hours and only an old street dog was in sight. They escaped form me, the escaped from a man who was ready for a battle. I called my uncle he said "You FOOL are you still waiting there?, we enquired the people who reportedly saw the thieves and found that all was a RUMOUR, nobody actually saw the thieves, when inquired they all said that someone else had said to them and nobody saw a thief in the village, the thieves had never come to the village, YOU GO TO BED!!" No one had insulted me like this before. Go to bed? FU**! dude i was waiting for a battle. If at all they had crossed my way, if at all they had come near me... i would have looked them in their bloody eyes, i would have roared inside me once and lifted my hands, then something really terrible would have happened in that lonely dark street. The next day The Hindu would have reported "Young lad defeats thieves and saves a village" and Dhina thandhi would have reported "இளைஞர் சாகசம்!!! ஜட்டி திருடர்களுக்கு ஜட்டி கிழிந்தது".(No translation available!)

PS: Jokes apart, the village is still caught in the web of uncertainty. People are expecting that as the thieves never came to our village they may came again anytime. Dedicated police squads are asked to roam around in the villages for a few days now.

PS2: Believe me when my uncle called me to say that the thieves are nearing me, I already had my plans to tackle them. Guess what?? I would have said to him "Hey see no blood, ill give you my iPod and also teach you how to operate it, its worth 5k.You can leave without a hush. GOD PROMISE ill never tell these people the direction in which you ran". Now you all know why i took my iPod with me :)

PS3:(26/May)This post is selected by Blogadda.com as one of the best Indian(!?!) posts of this week, Click the image to view the page.

Bangalored again!

Bidding a heartless goodbye to Arun, i started running towards the apartment.I didn't want to miss out on the Coorg trip, i already started dreaming about the trip, the mountains, the mist and the coffee estates! They said they were leaving in minutes i rushed to the room. When i opened the door, I saw a few men lying scattered one looking at the ceiling, the other clad in his brief was scribbling something on the floor and the next few were glued to the evil box. As i walked in the rest joined I looked at them and we all kept starring for a few minutes,then suddenly everyone started laughing out "Dey meesa vechurukaanda".

Me:Shut up! what happened to Coorg?

rest: what Coorg? which Coorg?

Me: assholes u guys just spoilt a beautiful day with my brother, i came running!

rest: illa da we decided two hours back that its not feasible today

Me:Then why did u guys call me 20 mins back

rest: chumma ullulaaaiku.

After sharing mutual abuses for sometime, and after making a feasibility study for a few hours sometime later in the evening someone asked "how many wants to go to Coorg?" 1,2,3,4,5 the hands kept raising. So it was decided that we do a night drive to Coorg, book some resort there for a days stay and get back to Bangalore late time next day. The two red swifts were set and we started the trip, on the car we kept discussing about the Coorg that none of us has been to.I desperately wanted to be in a hill station, to become synonymous with nature. Everyone looked excited. After twisting and turning around Bangalore somehow we reached the the outskirts, and from there we took on Mysore road. The music was loud around us, and it was fun to be a part of that drive. we were midway to Coorg.We stopped at a petrol bunk after some two hours on the road.After the refreshments and before getting into the car for the long drive, someone asked "OK how many wants to get back to Bangalore", 1,2,3,4,5 the same hands rose again and in minutes time we were back on the tracks through which we just travelled. I was not shocked, no not a bit, after all i am with my guys for some 7 years now! Its just the way we are.the trip back remains historically important cos we were LOST. Nobody knew how and we kept following the first car and after some point they said that they too didn't know the route and were following us through the rear view mirror(Yeah we rock at logic!!). It was then i saw the Bangalore opposite to the one i saw in the morning, the dull, dreaded, and lifeless Bangalore. The streets without trees and roads without peace. But the ride was, we spoke everything that men of our age speak in a car journey.Yeah we discussed the socio-economic impacts of the Obama foreign policy and which actress looked better wearing a two-piece.You speak i pull you down, i speak you pull me down. We spoke, we kept on speaking, we laughed, we kept on laughing. We were happy to be lost in Bangalore. We kept looking at the Kannada film posters and someone said

him:Dey whatever i think the kannada people are the best when it comes to loving the fellow humans?

us:how do you say that?

him:What do we do to trans-genders in our states?We insult them in our movies, in our streets, in our tasteless jokes, we treat them as degraded human beings, we make fun of them everywhere we sperate them from our society.

us:Yes but what does that have to do with Kannadigas?

him:There is a lot. You know what kannadigas do? they don't insult the trans-genders in their states, they don't make fun, they don't drive them away instead "They make them hero's in their movies", look at the posters around man what do you call all these creatures as??

yeah we laughed like our ***s popping out.(He was not kidding guys, in whatever industry karnataka goes forward there is an industry where they still compete with apes, "the movie industry"). Finally all roads drove us home, it was late night when we reached home. Dinesh made some forgettable mutta dosais, we had a house-party, and finally i went to sleep after a tired day but as i had turned into an insomniac recently i was wide awake living in my own world and sometime soon the next day had visited us!

>Sitting in the back seat and travelling through the sun-filled city, I saw them. They where caught in the middle of the road, without able to cross the road. An old man and his lady, dressed in dense rural attires these are people i see everyday in my village but they were the first people i saw wearing a dothi in that wide and big city. In the few seconds in which we crossed them, i saw a bewilderment in his eyes.He was holding the women's hand and both had no place to go.That was one of the crowded places in Bangalore, where all the new age men and women of Bangalore spend time together in their weekends, the place where a few international brands were staged, the place for the rich and the niche. Looking at the man and his women out there was like reading a crude poem in the middle of the sun. The city has travelled a long distance away from the common man. How will he interpret the metropolitan which has grown before his eyes, will he be comfortable to walk in there?, will he not feel a bit alien in that "really" alien crowd? I was wondering what made him come to the city, i said to myself that he should have come there from his village to buy jewels for his daughters marriage with a little money and he ended up here or did he come to get seeds for his irrigation?. If he had regretted a bit, or if he was not able to become a part of the place around him, blame globalisation. It was the capital of the village man some time back, but now Bangalore remains the capital of the rich, the new, and the loaded.There is no place for the village man in the streets of the city which has painted itself with pretentive colours. What kind of culture is it when it alienates the fellow citizen?. When i think of Chennai it still has the rural stint heavily in it, people from the villages of Tamilnadu still visit Chennai with the feeling that "its my capital" and Chennai has never disowned them. Chennai has had the heart to accept people. Chennai too has the rich and the niche but the attitude i find with the men and women of chennai is they try to be as local as possible.They are glad to be locals and most dont behave like they just alighted form the last flight from new jersey(i speak from the examples i saw, there may/will be exceptions). In Chennai the more you are local by heart the more you become a part of the place. I personally believe that in the long run there will be only one global culture that everyone on earth will follow, but then I am against creating alienating societies within one society.That saturday in Bangalore, welcomed me to the Bangalore which i wanted to visit, the city where everyone eats with spoon and fork(one guy was eating Paper roast with a fork!), a city where women look manly and men look delicate, a city where you can't find a stationery shop for miles but malls in every corner,a city where people wake up at 11 and go to sleep by 9, a city where the starting cost of a Puma is 3.5k, a city where you can see people fuck in closed cars i almost every corner,a city for the unusual a city where you are not worth if you are not having a girl to roam around with, a city ruled by the excess of money, a city where the sales guy speak better English than the real English men, a city which has disowned its own culture, a city in search of new masks everyday, a city which has never been, a city synonymous with Peter Keating, a city which tries to compete with New York and Paris but loses in competition to *** and ***.

But still i loved the other Bangalore, where people still lived without becoming prey to the artificiality around them, i loved the city for its natural charm and warmth, i loved the city for its trees which made evenings in hot noons, I loved the locals who were gracious hosts and guided us through the strangled roads, i loved the kannada watchman t who opened the doors for our cars without a complain even when we took it out for hundred times a day, i loved everything that connected me to the city. Yeah i did love things there after all we were not screwed, we were just Bangalored!

PS: Man, where are you leaving now? I have not done with the trip yet, did i ever say what we did on saturday after we woke up? Every trip will have a day when the epitome of all the events happen. Yes the was a place that happened to be the unforgettable during our stay and it happened on a saturday night! in this place(hey idiot click here). My heart wants to speak about it but my brain says no! So lemme leave the choice to you, tell me if you still need the last sequel.

Bangalored!

(This is just another personal and ugly rant about my weekend at Bengaluru, reading is at readers risk)

I dumped my issues and bugs at office ran to the bus depot to catch my bus at 10:30. When I got into the huge white bus which was already chilling with AC, i longed for another long journey in the middle of the night, where i can sleep, think and dream. Then i saw him, the stout-bald-decent-gentleman with whom i shared my seat. He smiled at me and i smelled a rat. I settled down on my seat, covering myself with the brown blanket and watching video songs play in the LCD. No ordinary songs, i mean which other travels would have the guts to play a mid-night masala DVD right in the middle of the a bus filled with family crowd. It started with "naaattu saraku" then followed by Mumtaj and a few others, finally the hotness quotient went higher as silk Smitha came in with her iconic "nethu rathiri yamma". As the toddlers in the bus started crying some gentlemen stood up for a fight.The video was stopped, and in the silence that then filled the bus, i knew why i smelled a rat.It was not just a rat, it was a snoring rat. The stout-bald-decent-gentleman was snoring. Yeah I do hate people who snore like pigs, i do hate to be awake when someone keeps buzzing around my ears. I detest them, but on that day i wanted to stay cool. I wanted to change my attitude a bit and stop complaining a lot about people who snore. I stayed abnormally cool.Whenever his snore went high,I smiled at him.I smiled at him just like how Jesus would have smiled at the sheep, I smiled at him just like how a mother would smile at her kid. I almost became his mother. I had no complaints when he fell on my shoulders. I let him sleep over there. Whenever he snored in an alarmingly disturbing volumes i wished i could kiss on his glittering bald head and whisper in his ears "c'mon sleep like a baby". Exactly 6 hours passed. I looked around to see that the whole bus was sleeping, i went out to see that the driver too, was almost sleeping. I was the only one to pay 600bucks and end up with a red eye. When i came back, i found that i could take it no more. I knew i am no Jesus Christ, and i hated that bald asshole for making me sit awake for hours. My face then should have looked liked a pissing volcano. I threw him away with my shoulders every time he fell there, i said nasty things in his ears when he snored. I couldn take the fact that hits two mangoes with one stone 1)he sleeps, and 2)he happily disturbs my sleep. God-damn-it how i hate people who snore!. It was almost five and we had reached the outskirts of Bangalore, the guy near me woke up. He smiled at me and said "Good morning". He smiled at my dreaded face and pulp-red eyes and said "Good morning".I said "get lost you asshole, next time you get into a bus, wear a name tag crying out Warning:I do snore like a pig". You know i didnt say those, I just said "Good morning".He left the seat and i took the window by now, as the bus passed through the out-skirts of Bangalore city, a grin visited my lips. I kept looking at the waking city and in the intervals, I saw the mystery man smiling at me from the large hoardings. Everytime i saw him,he made me smile. With his sculptured physic, his mesmerising smile, his out-of the world hair-do, he was GOD! The local brand ambassador of coke, he was golden-star Ganesh, the most handsome man of karnataka, whose movies outrun even those of SRK, who is the Rajni and Kamal combine of Karnataka, who makes every kannada speaking women go sleepless, who is perfectely flawless except and he looks a bit more manly than Namitha.(Click here to have a look at the golden star). Looking at his face I knew how my trip is going to end up as!. My plans were simple, to spend a day with My brother and spend two more days with my old roomies who had come all the way from Chennai. I knew things will not be as simple. As the bus was nearing my stop, I slept. The driver then had to throw me out at the last drop point at the kalasipalayam depot. Yeah at last i slept for exactly 17 minutes and some 0-60 seconds.

The Auto halted at 17th cross street, Malleswaram. The sight which i saw then still lingers in my eye. The sky was opening up, the first rays of the morning floated above the trees. There were trees all over the road, covering both the ends. The trees blocked the light and below the tree it was still dark. Morning in the sky and still the night prevailed below the trees. Magical! was the only word. Waiting for my brother I slowly started adoring the city which i just traveled through. All the way there were tress, the roads were wide and proportional and the ambiance so peaceful. For the first time i tried shedding my inhibitions and said to myself that I liked Bangalore. I then knew why they called Bangalore a garden city, the whole city reminded me of a neighborhood garden.Arun (My bro) came then and May1:that day was his birthday. We drove back to his house.Wait a sec! it was no house, it reminded me of somethin else. A house built over acres with the porch which can hold some 10 cars. I asked if he lived there, he said the owner lives there and they live in the outhouse. The outhouse was a bit old, but on the way there was trees that were shedding white colored flowers the mist was still floating around and the air still had a tint of chill.Man i envied the place like hell. I was thinkin about the rooms that we lived in Velachery/Perungudi/Sholinganallur. Where you sweat at 5:30 in the morning and where anytime u can glance pigs bathing in the sewage. I went around the house, it was neat. Four fully grown men live there. I was reminded of my rooms in Chennai.Here each had their own bed, own PC, own internet, own dresses and even own inner-wear. ( The sight of ten foul-smelling men sharing the same room, same matress, same dresses, same *** , of whom i was an integral part did flash in my mind). My brothers room was all neat and perfect.There is a difference between men in the verge of getting married and men like us. Being there I knew i was still a boy. After a bath and a chat we left the house for some "brothers-day-out".While leaving the house, my brother introduced me to his house owner. An old man wearing his torn vests, sitting in his wooden chair and mending his pigeon nest.

Him: So where do u work?

Me: CTS.

Him: Oh! good, you last quarter earning were good! So why did u guys back out from the Satyam deal at the last minute?

Me:(What?? did we get into the satyam deal in the first point?, this old man is blabbering) No, we never were a part of the deal.

Him:Nope, your team did propose a bidding of some **, but they backed out finally.(He analysed why backing out was a good option, why he felt the deal was not worth it)

Me:Oh!

Him:So what kind of job u do?

Me:I work for a client called DB.

Him:Oh the information guys,.....( He spoke a looooot, from the history of my client to what is their current stock price, who is their CEO, and where all they have branches in India)

Me:Oh!

Him:So what is work u do for them.

Me:We as a team are responsible for managing and enhancing their severs and applications.

Him:What servers you use?

Me: Unix boxes.

Him:Yes Unix is best when it comes to bulk file transfers, Windows boxes aren't that good.

Me: (WTH???,)

Him:So you do shell scripting in unix right?

Me:(Jesus-christ! what is happening here, what is he gonna ask me do nxt? will he bring out a white paper and ask me write a shell script for him???)

My brother came to my rescue now, i escaped the old-man- who-knows-everything just to hear that he was an IIM-A grad in the sixties. My bro gave me a look which parodied all my MBA dreams. (Eluthi vechuko un diary-la 2012 la naanum oru MBA avendaa... ithu namba koladheivam ekidamma mela sathiyamda! sathiyamda!) Finally we left the place, driving around the city in my Bro's car. He had been there for years now and knows the history/bio-chemistry of every place out there. On the eve of his b'day we visited a temple, we went for a quiet breakfast in a sub-urban restaurant, we roamed around malls, i bought him a book, we spoke-we shared, after long time we both spent time as friends. If you had ever had a brother, the point in which you shed the tags as brothers and become real friends is special. We roamed around like friends, with a lot to share and nothing to hide. He took me to his office, as we entered I saw his security guard saluting.(In the place i work, my security shouts "Hey! you! display your ID card"). The more time i spent in his workplace, the more i felt ashamed about the place i work. It was huge and each had their own bay(I share my PC with 3 others), he had 39 colleagues while I just had some 5000 in my office.(For ppl working in IT: WE SUCK). Again after stealing some stuff from his desk we again left for the city. Hanging around in brigade road and the malls around, having lunch and roaming around I be live that day was one of the best days that we had together. (Arun if you are reading this, I really wished that the day went on!). But, my phone rang speaking on the line was my ex-roomie he shouted "Asshole(Ke**P*** in tamil)!!! Wru???, we are waiting for you here, exactly in 20 minutes we are starting for Coorg, cars are ready... come here sooon!!".In a rush then, Arun drove me to Koramangala. I bid him goodbye and walked towards the room from where we were supposed to leave to Coorg. Without knowing that a surprise awaited there for me!!(I know this the cheapest trick to stop for a sequel, pardon me ;)

coming soon Bangalored! -part II

Girrr...Burrr...Dirrr...

(To my roomies reading this, i know i went over-board, as always pardon me ;) )

What if you are super-sensitive to sound? i.e even the sound of a dropping pin on the mosaic floor, barking sound of a dog in a latency of 3 kms would wake up from sleep? and you live in a room with 6 other gentlemen in which 5 snore and 1 farts all night? now that's me.That is my life for nearly two years now.No i am not complaining, im just laughing at god who created me, laughing out loud, laughing out helpless, laughing out insane.There are days when you try hard to sleep and when you feel sleep is nearing you, you start hearing this sound like the sound of a grinding machine, you loose hope on life, your nerves get tighter, your blood flows hot in your veins, you run down to the PC and google for where you can buy unlicensed guns in Chennai, you find that you get it in a corner shop in north madras, you decide to buy it the next day and just blow of all the snoring heads, but the next day comes you wake up hearing the same old noise, you wake up to cry, you wake up to curse and you then google to find out what are the 10 most easy ways of committing a suicide.Now please don laugh, im serious.It is a room where bachelors stay in the morning, and at some magical point in the midnight the place i live in turns into a zoo.I open my eyes to the darkness and I start hearing these sounds, noise of a stranded whale, squealing of a pregnant pig, cawing of a fat dark crow, grump of an injured camel, gobble of a mature male turkey and the howling of a green eyed wolf.I always live with the fear that any time i may become a prey and only my skeleton would remain in the next morning.I am even planning for a night safari in the pathways of my room with an entry rate of 30/per head.Guys lemme know if u r interested, i guarantee for an once in a lifetime experience. I know my limits, ill stop here. :)In a way im getting used to it, how long can you keep worrying for things that is out of your control?.Im planning to do my thesis in snoring, "The sound engineering behind sleeping Indian men" is the title. Wow what a learning it has been for years now, how many varieties we have in a simple snore? from the loud noisy snore which travels across 3 rooms to the vibrator snore which reaches your ears like a drilling machine.The graph patterns that i depicted observing the sounds has led to graphs with sin waves, cos waves and even ocean waves.It is all fine but when you loose sleep over it, hell is not so distant.And the other aversion i have is the aversion to light, i wake up to the sudden glow of a zero watts bulb, I wake up to the glow of the TV screen on my closed eyes.In some nights where i need a lot of time with myself for solace, someone will switch on the creepy television at 4am and hear songs in the tunes of "satti suttathada, kai vittathada".I go helpless guys. And all my otherwise lovely roomies reading this, Im not blaming you guys you people have all the rights to snore after all it is your tongue and your nose.Blame my parents for bringing me up like this, blame god who created me as a naturally sensitive ***hole.Blame me.I cant sleep with sound, i cant sleep when i find a small ray of light intruding the bottom of my door, i cant sleep when the TV keeps running, I cant sleep while people speak, I need a graveyard like silent atmosphere in order to completely sleep at peace.I know i have become a nightmare for most, nobody prefers to sleep near me just cos u guys know i mouth very bad words in your ears when i get irritated, I kick at times to bring you back to normal, at times i even wake up people and say "I have no problems in you snoring hard, but please can you stop snoring like an owl and start snoring like a cuckoo bird?".I know that i have become a pest to most, I know that everybody prays for me to get a wife who snores all night,but please stand in my shoes.Apart from this you guys are the best one can find in the world and I love you guys when you don't make those quirky annoying noises. (im not saying this fearing a mob attack making me run nude in the streets, im sayin this cos i really love you guys :P).And for all those others reading this, my thesis is nearing its conclusion and ill soon give the answers for the age old question.Where does the snore come from? Is it from the nose or the mouth?

keep guessing till then... :)

TN 38 AB 8877

A guest post by my bike!

Hey guys my name is TN 38 AB 8877, I come from the Yamaha RX 135 family. If you are a guy and if u ride bikes then you should have heard about me. I was the heartthrob of men during the 90's. I was the popular figure at the college arena, at the racing circuit and even in films i was with the hero helping him in rescuing the heroine, and chasing and dishooming the baaad-men. I was everywhere, Every man in India wished he could own an Yamaha some day. I was the undisputed king of the biking circuit for more than a decade. Then fate played its game, the government banned me in the year 2005 citing that i caused a lot of pollution.I was one of the last few RX 135's produced in the nation. The truth that i will be the last RX 135 to go out of the factory did hurt me. I left my factory in Pune with pride about my past and dreams about my future and traveled down south to a small showroom in an urban town called Coimbatore.

I was there standing in the showroom, eagerly waiting for the prince who will own me. I wished he came soon and released me from this prison of walls, i wished we both could fly at 120km/hr speeds, i started to dream about him, i couldn't wait to see him. One fine day i was cleaned and dusted, i knew my prince has arrived, they polished me, i was fitted with all my accessories and i looked stunning and macho. And finally he came. :( GOD I wanted to shout "NOOOOOOOOOO!!". He was not my prince he looked like a dumb-ass!! I was crying but no one heard me, he came by my side he touched me and i felt like YUCK! He even kissed me on my tank, i wanted to yell " Hey moron please wash your teeth first and then come near me". But i had no other options, i was forced to move out with him. With this idiot on my back i started my long journey.(I later learnt that this moron did have a name... Vicky @ Vignesh but for me he always remains a moron!!)

Have you ever seen a lion from the jungle, caged at the circus amidst monkeys, now that was my initial days. This guy i suppose had never ridden a bike before and his first stint was with me!!.GOD This was like a kid dating on Mallika sherawat.Initially he did maintain me well, he was too proud owning me. but as time passed by i came to meet the sadist in him, He never washed me, never took me to a good service,never took me to a race track, never put petrol for >20rs, and the most important of all he never made a pretty girl sit on my pillion:(. All that i got was men, men with huge bums, men with tiny bums and even men with smelly bums!!! But not a single girl even once!!!(and that is why i call him a loser, i even doubt he will remain one till the end). Not just that he would frequently lend me to men who looked like the Yes-boss villains of tamil cinema, they were equally shitty, and were no better than my moron boss!. At times this guy even endangered my life, once he ran me over a street dog(Waht a shame!!), i survived with bruises all over me! And this guy escaped unhurt!. the second time looking at a pretty girl and doing cheap stunts he drove me directly into a light-post, my body was disfigured but still he escaped unhurt! Finally he brought me to chennai, God this place is shit!!!Look around the traffic, the people, the dust,the pollution, the huge bellied police man, ahh this place sucks!!. And when i see all these Pulsars and Apaches which project themselves rather than the driver i just feel like inviting them for a goddamn race, my blood would boil to show what is it like to be a Yamaha. But see i am not so gifted :(

So you wonder why i am so cynical with him?? Not that he is tooo bad, i know he loves me, we have spent some great times together, racing out pulsars and unicons, trying to impress girls and getting busted, unforgettable trips to ooty driving at breakneck speeds, we both prefer being the darkhorse, he has refused an offer to sell me even as the buyer was ready to pay more than the cost price!now i too have some soft corner him. But why this? coz I lost my kick-starter a month back, when one of his friends who had a leg like a dinosaur and brain like a chimp kicked me on the wrong angle!!! I was fractured and made to stand at a dusty corner of the portico. For nearly a month this owner-moron has not even cared to take me to a mechanic, i have started to rust! Soon i will become extinct, and little he cares , so guys if u got to read this plz plz ask him to take me for a repair.And also warn him that the next time when he does cheap stunts and drives me into a light post i will make sure that he will fly like a frog in slow-mo and the girls around will laugh at him, and i will get away unhurt. I am damn serious, do warn him.

The Bachelors nest - II

let me finish off with this,

You may be the sort of guy who reads mostly Douglas Adams and hears only Amy Winehouse or Pink Floyd. You may be the hippest guy in town, but never dare to address your rommies as "hey dude" or "buddy", it is like calling them as M**F** or A*H*. Stick to your roots. Remember: Acquaintances are "dudes" but real friends are always mamas and machans.(pudhiya thatuvam 2054, note-pannungada!!)

Whatever the stakes maybe never ever bring your most beloved bike and PC to a room which is a host for 8 another dummies. Plz don ask me why! but never ever bring em, no guys i am not crying, really I AM NOT CRYING.

However tempting it maybe, never try to over hear a phone con. between your roomie and his GF. Better watch Veerasami for the umpteenth time. Believe me nothing can be more boring than that, no not even Harman Baweja's face. A sample piece- evanga- hey ennapanra, avanga-nee sollu, evenga- nee first sollu, ....after some 35mins avanga-nee sollu, evenga- nee first sollu (Add maane, thene, ponmaane inbetween).... why blood?, same blood.

You may buy copies of Businesstoday, outlook, or even a cosmopolitan. But vannathirai will be the most sought after and will win hands down.

Regarding boozing. The amount of beer in-taken by a person will be inversely proportional to his annoyance quotient, and directly proportional to the number of omlets that he mouths(Che!!). And also the more serious that one behaves after a booze the more he looks like a joker.

Planning doesn go well with bachelorhood. The more you plan of going for a treat of your roomies @ Le'royal meridian the more are the chances that you will end up eating the same old parotta in the same old rottu-kada(street-shop). The more you expect it to be a peaceful night the more are the chances that you will endup in mayajaal watching good-for-nothing flicks. When you are a bachelor life just happens.

It is not advisable to discuss issues of national importance such as Ajith-a?-Vijay-a?, why dasavatharam sucks, in the company of 8 other guys, Coz mere words, will lead to ego clashes and end-up in bloodshed and destroying the property of most annoying mammal on earth(read our house owner). under such circumstances a single question can bring silence and make people disperse , Should India really sign the nuclear proliferation treaty?

Your roomie is a S/W engineer and you see him sayin in chaste and local tamil "Dey mappi, vakkali Project manager kadiya podranda, Sotta k** avana..." suddenly he gets a call, in a jiffy he shifts to his American English "hey dude, wazzup man, i was jus nou discussion bout dat..". Plz don be amazed. S/W engineers are reptiles of some kind.

here we come to the end of draft-2, i haven written all, and if you have somethin to add about bachelor life please feel free. These may seem like hardships, but they arent. The carelessness and restlessness are very much a part of bachelor life, and if you can put friendship before everything else then these are just noteworthy happenings!. And if you are my roommate reading this then "Macha, sorry if I made ourselves look like a bunch of losers, it was not intentional, it was written for the sake of those in the blog-o-sphere who read whatever crap I write, I love you all, long live THE GODZ".

PS:But why suddenly a post on bachelor life?? coz this may be the last week of my bachelor life with my bunch of favorite dummies. (No speculations, I am not getting married, i was just born 22 yrs ago, this may be the last week coz i am trying 4 a transfer!!)

The Bachelors nest

Slippers, shoes and socks dumped till the middle of the hall, clothes old and new scattered everywhere, unread newspapers lying all over the floor, cigarette butts at definite intervals, bed which is not done for days, thick layers of dust at all corners of the room, beer bottles lying on the verandah without any shame, pungent smell which dissipates from the lavatory, parotta parcels of the previous week lying untouched on the kitchen floor, spider webs; wide and huge all over the ceiling, a television which yells "Kathala Kannala kuthaatha" at feverish pace, few morons sleeping and mimicking a pregnant pig(read snoring), and a loser at the PC typing about the most un-inhabitable place on earth; The Bachelors nest.It has exactly been 10months, 15days and some 4hours since we moved in, and we are counting our days here. And with all my experience of living with these men, I present to you some Dos and Don'ts in a bachelors nest.(requirement- morons- 8.nos)

As the first case, think before you stay with your college mates coz they know you in and out and they will never let the teenager in you die, even if you wish.And life will remain the same big-boring-party as in college days.

Never reveal your bank balance at any costs, else you have to undergo all the envious looks, the fuming ears, and the burning stomachs, but the truth would be that you will be having just Rs.250 on your account and you will still remain the richest in the room(kastam!!) Also never reveal your payslip if you work for Cts,if you wish to maintain some dignity.

Never watch a cricket match inviting a crowd of friends(40+ppl), and that too if India/Chennai Super kings are in the verge of victory. else the screams will make your neighbors think -"the stout GUY in the bachelors room is giving birth to a twins"

If you are not a sound proof sleeper, and if you prefer silence as in the graves as i do, then it is not advisable to sleep with roommates, else you will endup hearing all kinda noises from loud farts to louder snores, some even get up in the middle of the night and shout "Enna emathitu poiteyedi??".

If you buy a branded shirt, make sure that you destroy the brand tag and the bills, else the shirt will go on a resource sharing mode. If its a Peter England you get it back after a week, if its a Sting you get it back after a month, if its a Van Heusen then you better forget that you bought one.

If you and your friends are the sort of guys who play street cricket, with torn lungis, mouthing poetic words in Tamil, better mislead your neighbors sayin you guys were educated from Adhiparsakthiamman Engineering College, Neyveli and you work for Muthupandi machine works, Porur. Thereby saving the disgrace for your college and your company.

If your friend plans to bring in a relative for a visit, ask him to inform two weeks in advance. Else on D-day he would be greeted with the sight of scantily clad men lying in awkward unathletic positions, thereby the guy you brought will give ("you live with these kinda people??... sigh") looks, that will put your family reputation at stake.

It is always advisable to buy ones inner's in "sangu mark" and "sudarmani" brands, it helps in retaining the identity. If its going to be jockey then there will always be an identity crisis(as all jockeys look the same). And it doesn't look good if two fully grown men fight over the ownership of an underwear.

PS:Dry-humor?!.K let me stop here, i don wanna risk stones and rotten tomatoes, and if you still find the post interesting then lets meet in a sequel

Chicks, mails, brokers and dilbert

Everyone rambles, so do I..

1) I don’t remember when was the last time I laughed watching a movie. I mean i was not into those "feel-good" movies for a long time. All I watch is crude stuff (read serious movies which move at the pace of live), and there is no comedy or feel good tag attached to those movies. My roommates say that its real fun watching me when i am into movies, I believe I look like a P.Chidambaram staring at the inflation index, or like someone who has just lost his wife (do ppl really worry for that?? ). Cant help it though!!, those are movies for the thinking man.(ahem..) And seriously I wish some day my roommates (8 of em) watch some Iranian, Mexican movies in my collection. Esp. I hate this guy(read Mr. Singapore) when he downloads stuff like 10000BC, Kung-fu panda, fantastic four I feel like hitting him with a iron rod :)). Anyway tastes differ. So were was I? Yes feel-good movies, I watched “Sleepless in Seattle” today. And liked It, my admiration grows for Tom hanks; be it the loner in castaway, or the naive Mr. Gump, or the brilliant Langdon unraveling the Da vinci code, Hanks is brilliant. And he proves that he is a master in romance (you've got mail was good too). I am not a sucker for romantic comedies and "Chick"-flicks (so the post title is now reasoned), but I like them. Pretentious, dreamy, formulatic but like sugar caught up under the tongue; they are swweet.

2)When you are reading this, i would have successfully completed my fourth week on bench. Take it from me getting bench is a curse disguised as a boon. At times when i get up in the morning and see people getting ready and leaving for office i feel totally lost. Who am I?, Where I am? What am I doing here? and it takes quite some time to accept the truth that I am jobless with a job. I have an office which I never visit, I have an id card which I never wear, I have colleagues whom I never meet, I get salary for the work I never do, I live in an illusion (Irruku aana illa!). The only means by which I connect to the corporate is by checking ma mails!. Mails from the HR regarding visit of a Gynecologist, mails from NSS regarding the resolving of critical outage in the metro cloud (Damn it!!), mails from workforce regarding opportunities in the US of A(romba mukkiyam!), and mails from old colleagues with title on the likes of-****Super hot still from MAXIM july***Be-careful-when-opening**** and it is these mails that console me. I get mails; therefore i am still a part of the company :).

3)We have been searching for a new house and my hate for these ugly-shameless-sick creatures is growing by the day. Guess who? who else THE BROKERS(read house brokers:)) the way they speak, the way they cheat it just raises my BP to boiling point. Usually I don’t loose my temper, but today i couldn't. I had an confront with one of them, which would have turned out into an ugly fight. And also the money they demand for an hour’s job, i believe is higher than Manmohan Singh's basic salary. One month of rent as commission is an unwritten law (3BHK, rent-16k so commission -16k…wtf?). When you question them they say " That‘s how things work here, You guys work for an IT company, you earn a lot, why cant you give us our due". Sick creatures, it's as if the IT people are indebted to each and everyone in Chennai. Be it the housemaid, the street vendor or the autowalas, everyone demands. I feel like yelling "Am I earning for you? Did you fund me when i was in college? “We work for a month all day and night, money doesn’t come from a vending tree, its hard earned money, many have commitments of supporting their families, my friends have tiring responsibilities, even some are the only source of belief for their families. And these creatures out there are desperate to suck every penny from our pockets. I feel sick. The other creatures are the house owners who treat Bachelors like untouchables. As if they were never in their bachelor-hood, as if they were born from the mothers womb when they were 40! "bachelor na veedu thara mudiyathunga, we prefer decent families" --"then marry me your daughter we will become a family" old-pricks!!!
A group of 8 men who look just like baby-eaters are desperately in need of a house (3B3BHK- 3bedroom3bathroom and a HK) near Velachery. Help greatly solicited.

4)When I started Amazwi, I wished to have a minimalist and readable layout. I wanted a Black and white theme as technically black gives an elegance, a depth and character to the brand. Also I love the mix of black white and grey. They are so simple yet so mystic. They mean a lot and I associate with these colors most of the time. And now I am changing the header, to the new 'two-lives" banner. It was philosophical, and there are the usual genuine looking African kids! So how bout you? do you like the new header?
{As Sridhar points out in the comment section the header portrays ambivalence or the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings.}

5)And I don’t know how may of you went through the Dilbert widget. If no, do it now and i am sure you'll love it. I love Dilbert(Anyone who hates his/hers employer will love Dilbert)its fun, its intelligent, its the best satire of the corporate life!. Man I love Dogbert, he is the most admirable character I have ever read in a comic! The bosses, the colleagues, they are just the same everywhere!. It's universal and I seriously wish I could get into a company without the Pointy haired boss, the evil Catbert, or the lazy Wally. And if you are lost reading this or if you really are not aware of Dilbert then loser :( try this wiki link and get educated.Few favorite samples
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PS: 1 Look at the time its nearly 4 in the morning(I live on US of A time schedule), Am i becoming an insomniac:)). A Sleepless-in-Chennai??!

PS: 2 "We work for a month all day and night, money doesn’t come from a vending tree, its hard earned money". Someone laughed. Agreed i am not eligible to say this; at least for the past month!! But i am sure change is not too far :)).
Happy reading!

Voila I finally had a Hair cut!!! ;-)

Last Monday I went to this crappy old saloon in the outskirts of Coimbatore, it was void of light, air and all other essential elements of survival, I sat there like a scapegoat, there came the middle aged beautician( maybe the Hair-cutter) who looked like he was very much caught up in the wrong job. He was not so friendly, he asked me to remove my glasses (and then I became totally blind), covered me with a cloth (which was wash proof and had a intriguing smell... just like the armpits of Symonds), he then took his kit consisting a comb and pair of scissors (which were actually excavated from mohenjodero), and asked me "what should I do??"

Me- can you do a wake up on me??

The Middle-Aged-Stout-Not-So-Polite-Hair-Dresser- What???

Me- the style which Aamir khan sports in TZP.

TMASNSPHD- You mean Amjad khan in sholay??(In mind voice - !#$%()(**()(!## [read it with whatever obscene words you know in Tamil, Telugu, Spanish or Zoroastrian])

Me- nope...it is done by having a lot of even hair in the front and middle portions of the head which is actually made to look like an elongated pyramid, the sides should be shredded well and overall it should have a proportional look on all the sides, and finally we can give a finishing touch using hair gel.

TMASNSPHD- Oh...You mean Summer-cut??

Me- (in mind voice - !#$%()(**)(!## [read it with whatever obscene words you know in Tamil, Telugu, Spanish or Zoroastrian]) Yes!!!!

There was nothing more that I can do. I sat quietly in that rusty old saloon and the middle-aged-stout-not-so-polite-hair-dresser was about to operate on me. And in the mirror I was looking at my face... to be precise I was looking at my hair. I had grown this hair for nearly eight months, and I had fallen in love with it. The very truth that it’s all going to gone in a few minutes sent chills down my spine. I wanted to kill the guy and run outta the place, but couldn’t. I sat there in the same posture with which Siddhartha sat in front of the bodhi. I closed my eyes. I could feel his scissors touching my hair. I shivered. When all this is over, I felt like I am gonna end up looking like Buddha. I felt goose bumps. I sealed my eyes and my mind travelled backwards through the various seasons of my hair growth.

The Scotching Summer

When I mean summer it doesn’t literally translate to the summer season. It refers to the state of mind which I had during the initial hair-growing-days. Now if you are a guy and if you wish to grow long hair the first few months are the most difficult. You will end up looking like a monster or even precise you will end up looking like a Kannada-film-hero (now that is a racial abuse and I really mean it!!! :) ). You have to undergo this bcoz in order to do a straightening you need hair that is at least of palm length. My days were hell. You cannot comb your hair, maintaining it becomes a nightmare, in whatever ways you try to make it look normal in thousand other ways it cheats you. You have to end up hearing all sorts of comments, "Hey you look like Mansoor-ali-khan", "Hey is your name Einstein by any way?",

And the best was from mom- "You look like the lunatic-beggar who used to roam in my village...please don't come out of the house... it will become difficult to get a bride for your brother" (in all ways she tried to disown me from the family...if someone asked her if this is your second son she would say - no we brought this guy from our native village for doing the menial work)

In my workplace it was worse - once my PL said he has started a welfare fund and asked everyone in the team to contribute Rs.2 towards it, when asked why he said “As vignesh has no money to do a haircut, we will be funding him on the regard thereby ensuring the welfare of children and old-citizens". The worst incident happened when we went to a wild life sanctuary in munnar, when everyone else were taking pictures of the forest-deer a couple from Germany were so keen to take a picture with me, and they did it. Till this date I am not sure why they did it. Maybe they thought I was an Indian-forest tribe who came in search of deer-flesh. May be my picture is doing rounds in Germany with the caption "German Couple with a human-look alike". God alone knows!!!

The Breezy Winter

When I mean winter it doesn’t literally translate to the winter season. Just like the winter which has the power to evade all our worries, I was now on the greener side void all worries. You could have guessed it. Whoa... I had a hair straightening.!!!! Shrek just turned back into the prince, E.T just became human, and there was no more worries, comments, insults. Then I tried all kind of looks the Godfather style, Rajinikanth ishtyle, srk stile, with mush, with goatee, with beard, with cap, with band ,with gel, with oil, with petrol the only style I missed was the African style of braiding the hair. It was my answer to all those curios eyes. Then came compliments from all quarters, people asking for tips and following my footsteps, I was floating...

People come up and say "you look like Surya from the back, tom cruise from the left, Clooney from the left, and ----."(Ahem!!!)
Me- Hey gys c'mon ... don insult me..I don wanna look like some crappy guy... , say I look like vignesh from all the sides..I wish to be myself(Ahem!!! Ahem!!! Ahem!!!)

but then there are always the other kind of people, Including mom who said " The old lunatic beggar looks like you when he is drenched in rain... get lost from my sight"( i knew she would never like it her greatest aim is to cut my hair short, place a big 'naamam' on the fore head, make me wear the pant right near my chest like Mr.Thayirsaatham, make me stand in front of lord krishna and sing for salvation.... Grrrrrrrrrr)

But life changed a lot, suddenly you differ from the crowd, and you get that "unique" feeling. And you develop an identity with which people would associate you. It aided my attitude that was to be lonely, independent and to unbelong :).Anyway I was happy enough.

The Autumn Severity

Now When I mean autumn, I really mean it. It was months after the straightening episode, and now the sad truth started to emerge from the mist. I started to shred. :( The hair started to loose all its moisture, straightening fell flat, coz of low maintenance and some manufacturing defects the unthinkable finally happened.................Hair fall. H-A-I-R F-A-L-L was a real night mare. When I got up in the morning I found strands of hair floating around the room, people who used my pocket comb fell in in-fidelity row with their girlfriends, in office I would end up in fighting with a friend over the stranded hair found on the floor ...if its mine or hers. Then people came up with all sorts of reasons one even said that it was all because of global warming!!! (Actually I am happy.. no one said it was bcoz of - India not signing the nuclear proliferation treaty). I got nightmares in which I ended up looking like a bald T.Rajendar!!!.The sad reality had finally set in and my options were too thin. Either maintain the hair well or do another costly straightening or else CUT THAT SH**. It was when I made this historically important journey to Madurai... and the rest as you all know is history.From the moment I entered into the house mom just said these three words cut-your-hair!!!

Me - Amma there is no salt in the sambhar.
She - cut-your-hair then ill put salt!!!
Me - Amma I cleared my confirmation exam in my company.
She - cut-your-hair then speak bout work!!!
Me - Ok I am in love and I am gonna run away with this girl from nagaland
She - cut-your-hair then runaway with anyone!!!
Me - I am gonna suicide by drinking this toilet-cleansing acid
She - cut-your-hair and then go die!!!

Enuf. After hearing it over for 65,342 times I packed my bags, fled from the house and left to Coimbatore to my grandmas place. But I still made a mistake... I called her!!!
Me (over the phone)- Amma I reached safely by 11am, mama picked me up from station.
She- cut-your-hair then call me again!!!

that was the limit... I started to hear these words Please-cut-your-hair inside my brain all the time, I started to fell mentally ill, I got no sleep or dreams. The only solution was to cut-my-hair. And thats how I am here sitting blindfolded in this crappy old saloon owned by the middle-aged-stout-not-so-polite-hair-dresser


Back to reality.

The process was very quick, maybe I lost some accumulated weight, he shook,bang,pulled and tortured me to all extents. I kept my eyes closed I could feel the huge chunks of hair that kept falling all along, and finally there was a long silence. I avoided the mirror, looked at him - he gave me looks like he had just done a brain transplant to an orangutan.

I handed him the bucks, took my bike and travelled back home. I dint have the nerve to touch my hair nor see it in the rear view mirror. I knew the guy would have done things horribly wrong. I came home and people looked at me with at most concern, some eyes said cho!!cho!!cho!!... some uch!!!uch!! uch!!. I was about to break, I lost the hair which I grew for more than 8 months, I lost the attitude specific to the long hair grower, I lost my identity. Now I am loosing my mind.

Finally I got the guts to face my fate, went into the bathroom and looked reluctantly into the mirror..............WHOA!!!!! The middle-aged-stout-not-so-polite-hair-dresser is a genius. He did it!!!! He has done a wake-up on me and it looks better than that on Aamir. It looks perfect and I cry over with joy. The guy totally reinvented me. I curse my self for not thanking him. My new avatar is far better than my old one and is gonna make people turn heads, Vignesh now has a brand new look and a brand new hairdo. Voila for middle-aged-stout-not-so-polite-hair-dresser, Voila for Vignesh, Voila for the new lease of life!!! :) :) :)

P.S: :-((((( Actually things went horribly wrong. If you had believed what i wrote in the climax portion.... May god bless you!
P.S2: If you had read the whole post in one sitting, please send me your Acc number I will reimburse your internet cost!!:-)))))