What a P and What a J ?

One of my blogger friends mentioned about her friend getting all cranky. Guess what, none are spared. In my house, almost everyone gets cranky every now and then.


I don’t blame them or myself. It could be due to heat and dehydration or the girl at the balcony of the opposite building who appears and disappears in matter of seconds.

When we get cranky, we compete.

What’s the competition?

Fight for the best PJ cracking cranky.

PJ meaning poor joke, peculiar joke, pathetic joke and nothing near to perfect joke…

Perhaps, it depends on the person who cracks the joke and the person who cracks his head hitting against the whateverin the vicinity after reading/listening to it.

So, here are few of those cranky once.

Well, the first one is obviously mine. I hope you have got your head as well as monitor insured.

Anyway, both ways, I will remain brave, until I see loads of bloggers holding various house cleaning items. rotten tomatos and eggs, in their hands, looking for me in Pallikarnai. Here it goes.

There is a 2 line space between the question and the answer. That is the time you got to think about the answer. That is, if you are cranky (job less) enough to do so.

What do you get if liquor barren  Vijay Mallya meets the fastest bowler Bret lee?

You get Malyalee.

How would you call Tamanna, after that scene in Ayan where in her brother gets killed?

She would be called Tam, because her brother (Tam) ‘anna’ got killed.

Why is marraiges banned in Taliban ruled area?

Hey common yar. Because ‘Tali’ ‘Ban’ned

Why should you NOT butter your boss?

Because, if you ‘Butt (h)er’, you are obviously in serious trouble. Now, hope I am not in serious trouble?

In ‘Ayan’, why Surya takes such a long time to find out about his friend who turns foe.

Simple. ’Surya tube-lights’ and bulbs. Dan tada..

If your head and monitor are in good shape and if you are not looking for me, then I will try to re collect few of those which I cannot re collect at this moment, and post it later.

If you don’t want me to post additional cranky one’s, hah, there is nothing really you can do.

Ok, I will spare you with one Sardar joke which I had recently cracked.

“Why did a Sardar go to doctor every day?”

Because, he is Sikh yar.

No offence meant. To sardar’s who are looking for me, I know I am Shitty, oops Shetty. Hope that helps. Thanks

Escape>>>>>>>>>>>>

Ok, Are you seriously thinking of thrashing me? Then consider this, “DONT MESS WITH ME FACE”

BOOOOOOOOoooooooo.

HOW 2 ‘ROB A COP’ !!

I had to write this post. I HAD TO, because, I had to.

Ok, now that sounds crazy and some of you might have closed the page before you read this line.

If you are still reading, then, let me assure you that, ‘you are as crazier than me’ :)

This post is inspired by a post from my fellow blogger. It was something to do with ‘Ways to get caught by ticket checker or traffic cops and pay fine’

However, in this post, I am going to explain, “How to ROB a COP, right under his nose, face, whatever.”

Before, I begin explaining the master plan, have you ever come across ‘Walking, talking DATABASE”?

No? Then read this carefully, “You could be one of them.” :)

Alright, we know a guy. In fact he was my friend’s college mate. Every time we meet him, the only thing that he is interested to know is, “Where do you work? What is your salary? What technology you are working on? Etc etc etc….”

Once this query processing is done, it’s time for statements like, “Hey this guy works there, he earns this much salary, he/she is getting married. He/she got a car. He/she is going with this girl/guy or guy/girl, respectively and irrespectively.”

Once this is done, he comes up with the most irritating part. Comparison. “So you are earning so much, but he is earning much less or I am earning quite more. Etc etc etc…

That’s why, we call them. ‘Walking talking DATABASE’. In short ‘WakTakDB’

Anyway, we don’t completely hate him, because he is such an innocent guy. His circuit is built that way. Can’t help. Moreover, he gives us information pertaining to our ex girl friends, ex boyfriends, friends who have turned foe, foes who are now friends. Aka Khabari.

If you are wondering, “How does this guy ROB a COP?” then keep wondering, because, this guy has nothing to do with my master plan. :)

So why on earth (or on my blogsite) am I writing about this guy? You will know before I finish. I promise.

I am going to narrate a tragic story. If you can figure out the master plan, then congratulations.

During our engineering days, my friends had come down to Bangalore from Manipal, to work on so called, “mini project” (wonder why they keep that name. Its funny, you know what I mean :)). So, I was doing my engineering in Bangalore, therefore I joined my friends, to give them a pleasant company to go around in Bangalore. One of the guys spoke to his relative to give the first floor to them for a month.

Unfortunately the mini project never started due to several reasons. The owner stayed in the ground floor, so he would always enquire about us. Therefore, every day morning, we get ready like we got to go to company on project work, all in formals. Go to Majestic bus station. Wait till 4pm and then come back at office time, looking tired.

At the month end, it was time to wrap up, pack and leave Bangalore to join their college. The mini project was somehow done in the last week of that month. Only one out of the many friends was left out to go in the end. I decided to go to home town along with him.

We went to his bro in laws house and got an old kinetic Honda. Drove it all the way to the room in which these guys stayed. Shifted all the beds back to the place we had taken it from. I had a huge suitcase and my friend was carrying equally heavy suitcase. We removed the front grills of this vehicle to accommodate a suitcase in front his legs. I was holding my suitcase on my lap, balancing it from one side to another.

We had to reach back to his bro in laws place to give back the vehicle and board the bus. We had 1 hr to do so.

After pushing the vehicle and dodging the heavy evening traffic we reached a place, which would be our last traffic signal before our destination. We found ourselves right behind a huge truck waiting from the traffic signal to turn green (which in fact was not visible to us because of this truck). The vehicle began to move and we followed it.

Guess, what?. Very soon, our night mare turned to be a reality. We were stuck at the junction. The truck had jumped the signal. The vehicles were honking and dodging us from all sides. We just stopped there, not knowing which way to go. All the people, crossing us from all sides, were cursing and spitting on us.

We looked like bunch of monkeys, just arrived from forest and unaware of whatever was happening in the concrete jungle. We couldn’t balance the bag anymore. One of the rider shouted,”look, your father is coming”, with a huge grin on his face. I wondered why he was so happy with our helplessness. Before I could look at what was he referring to, a huge smoked, black thing came rushing towards my head. I ducked. It landed right on my friend’s cheek who was riding the deadly kinetic Honda.

Only after, the thing came in front of our vehicle, I realized, it was none other than our famous traffic cop, whose white clothes is no more white. The first thing he did was, removed the key and took it to his base at one corner of the road. I got down and started pulling my bag towards him. My friend was balancing his bag on kinetic Honda and pushing it towards the cop along with me. Again, the traffic opened and again we got showered with curses.

1st question all traffic cops ask is, “DL?”. Please note that he doesn’t even look at your face when he is asking this question.

No answer from my friend. I went numb. I couldn’t hear anything though the noise was deafening.

2nd question, “Papers”?

I was thinking,” yeah paper’s. We were fortunate to get this vehicle till here. Do you expect papers for this?”

This is when my friend came out of the shock that he had, when 3 kilo hand had slammed his face. He said, “sir, sir. This is bro in laws bike sir. I am form manipal sir. Student sir. Please sir. We have bus to catch in 10min sir. Please sir.”

Cop.”No no. Nothing doing. Pay fine.”

My friend, with great pride.”HOW MUCH?” ( Little did my friend know that, I had just one 10rs note and some coins. My friend had none in his.)

Cop looked up. This is the first time he looked directly into his eyes. “300″

Suddenly, out of no were, tears rolled down my friends eye. I didn’t know what to do. I was in fact confused. Was he really crying because of helplessness? Was he acting to gain some sympathy? Was he feeling the pain of that slap only now?

I had no clue. I still don’t have any clue.

The cop, waited for some time and declared, disinterested. “Whatever you have got, put it in there.” He pointed at the mobile pouch he had on his bike.

I collected all he coins and the note in my pocket and slipped it in the pouch.

Hearing the noise made by coins in the pouch, our cop shouted. “Do you think I am beggar? Remove those coins idiot.”

I removed them and placed in my pocket. Little did he know that, I had removed all the money from the pouch and placed it in my pocket.

Finally, we reached our boarding point. Returned the bike. Very little money in pocket. Only enough to buy a bottle of water. We needed money after going to home town to change buses. WE didn’t have any. We didn’t know what to do and suddenly out of nowhere, a BMTC bus comes and stops very near to us. Few people got down and few got in. One of them who got down was familiar. Guess who?

Yeah right. ‘WakTakDB’

We almost fainted. Yeah baby. This is the right time, right place. Can’t be any better.

However, he was very good to us, because he was not at his best. We borrowed Rs100 and thankfully, our bus arrived within 5 min.

So, that’s the story. I don’t know if you can repeat this, but we feel proud even today, for Robbing a Robber under his nose. :)

What crap….? You must be thinking

I know, I know. I warned you..

2 LOSE & NOT 2 B LOSER !!

Some win, Some loose to win.



“Mom, What is more important in life? Losing or Winning?”


“Of course winning, son. Else, no one would respect you.”


Most of us would have got this from our parents, teachers, friends, guardians and whoever. We hear about all the people who have won. When we sit in a gathering, every one speaks about the winners. In your family circle, the winner, your cousin, your sister, brother is the most spoken about. Does that make you a loser?


Well I used to feel that way and many of you agree that you too at one point would have felt the same. However, I had a belief.


A belief that, winning is not as important as loosing. Winning is just a collection of loses which teaches you valuable lessons. Nobody talks about the amount of pain, grief a person had to overcome to hear that magic word, “winner”.


First thing that one needs to know in life is not winning. First thing one needs to know is ‘LOSING’. Losing badly. Second thing one need to understand is that, ‘you might lose, but you are not a loser”.


SRK puts it in a better way, “Sports teaches you to lose but not to become a loser”. Even before the tournament started, the fans burnt effigy’s over controversial moves. Experts criticized the owners. Deccan chargers charged over them in the first match, Royal challengers challenged their existence, Dare devils scared the hell out of them. The world poured all its filthy comments on the team, management, the players and the owner. They lost. They kept loosing. Some close encounters, some terrible loses.


People who had 1 milligram knowledge of cricket were suggesting the shots that should have been played, the ball that was not of right length.


Did that make them losers? No. They went on. Like true professionals. Picking up the remains, sweating and practicing every day hoping that someday, they would be in a better situation. That’s the trait of a true professional. Result? The last two matches. Out of nowhere, they successfully chased the highest total in IPL this year and in their next match they out played the last years IPL champions, Rajasthan royals. Now, that’s what I call loosing but not being the loser.


Similarly in life we lose. People don’t speak about you. People don’t ask about you. Let’s remember on thing, “we might have lost, but we are not losers”.


I would like to end this post with a thought from Theodore Roosevelt. This is posted in SRK’s blog (really inspiring and motivating) as well. I loved it. I simply couldn’t resist posting it her for you,


It is not the critic who counts;


Not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,


Or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.


The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,


Whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;


Who strives valiantly;


Who errs, who comes short again and again,


Because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;


But who does actually strive to do deeds;


Who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions;


Who spends himself in a worthy cause;


Who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,


And who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,


So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who


neither know


Victory nor Defeat.


Note: For those of you who obviously think that I am advertising my favorite actor. It’s easier for me to say, yes I am. But not an actor, a good human being with wonderful thoughts.


God bless