బరువు బాధ్యతలు

నా జీవితంలో మరచిపోలేని ఒక సంఘటన జరిగి ఇప్పటికి సరిగ్గా కొన్ని నెలలయ్యింది.... ఒక రోజు....

నేను ఆఫీసుకు బయలుదేరుతుంటే ఇంటి ముందు స్కూలు బాగు తగిలించుకుని మా ఇంటి ముందు పిల్ల ..గోధుమ రంగు నిక్కరు, తెల్ల చొక్కా వేసుక. తన వంక చూసి ..."ఎక్కడికి?" అడిగాను...."మీకు మా స్కూల్ తెలుసా?" అడిగింది ...."ఆ తెలుసు" అన్నాను....."దాని దరిదాపుల్లో కాకుండా ఎక్కడైనా దూరంగా దించెయ్యండి" అంది..
బెత్తం భయంతో బడి ఎగ్గొట్టి బయట తిరిగిన రోజుల్లో నాకు కూడా ఇలాంటి సహాయం బోలెడు మంది చేసారు..దీన్ని కూడా నా మార్గంలొ నడిపిద్దామని కారు  ఎక్కించుకున్నాను....నీ కారు భలే ఉంది నీ  పేరేంటి లావాటి బాబాయ్ ?" అంది .

"లావాటి బాబాయ్ ???" అదన్న మాటకి ఎవడో నా గుండెల్లో గాజు పెంకులు గుచ్చినంత బాధేసింది....
నాకు కష్టం కలిగింది అది  నన్ను 'అంకుల్ ' అన్నందుకు కాదు...ఆ పిలుపు నాకు అలవాటైపొయ్యింది (మన భారత దేశం లో ఇంటర్మీడియెట్ అయిపొతే మనకు వయసైపొయినట్టే....మన ఇంటర్మీడియెట్ రిజల్ట్స్ వచ్చిన మరుసటి రోజు నుంచి పదో క్లాసు గాడిదలు కూడా 'అంకుల్ ' అని పిలుస్తారు)....
తను  నన్ను 'లావాటి ' అందే ..అక్కడే కాలింది..ఇంతటి మాటన్నందుకు ఆ పిల్లకి  కోలుకోలేని శిక్ష వెయ్యాలని నిర్ణయించుకున్నాను....కారుని తిన్నగాఆళ్ళ స్కూల్  ప్రిన్సిపల్ రూము ముందు ఆపాను...

తనుఅన్న  మాటలకు బాధ తట్టుకోలేక ఆ రోజు ఆఫీసుకు పోలేక ఇంటికి వెళ్ళాను....మా సంజీవ్ కి ఫోను చేసి "ఏరా...నేను లావుగా ఉన్నానా" అని నిలదీసాను....దానికి ఆడు "ఈ మధ్య కాస్త లావయ్యావు కద..ఇప్పుడెందుకొచ్చింది ఆ అనుమానం?" అన్నాడు..."మరి ఇన్నాళ్ళూ చెప్పలేదే?" అడిగాను..."నేను చెప్పేదేంట్రా...నీ దగ్గర అద్దం లేదా?" అన్నాడు..."అది కూడా ఎప్పుడూ చెప్పలేదు రా......ఛ...సరే..నేను ఆత్మహత్య చేసుకోవాటానికి వెళ్తున్నాను..తరువాత ఫోన్ చేస్తా" అని పెట్టెయ్యబోయాను...దానికి మా వాడు "ఈ విషయానికి అంత బాధెందుకు రా...వెళ్ళి ఏదైనా మంచి జిం లో చేరు...వ్యాయామం చెయ్యి..మళ్ళీ మామూలుగా తయారౌతావు. ఇంతకు ముందు లా కాక ఈ  సారైనా క్రమం తప్పకుండా రోజూ చెయ్యి...లేక పోతే జనాలు నిన్ను'బండంకుల్' అనో 'లావాటి అంకుల్ 'అనో అని పిలుస్తారు జాగ్రత్త " అని పెట్టేసాడు..

నేను గతంలో కండలు పెంచటానికి చాలా సార్లు జిం లో చేరాను....హైవేల మీద స్పీడు బ్రేకర్ల లాగా ఇంతింత బొజ్జలేసుకున్న వాళ్ళు చాలామంది వస్తారు అక్కడకు....గోడలకు సిల్వెస్టర్ స్టాలన్, సంజై దత్ లాంటి హీరోల ఫొటొలు చాలా అతికించుంటాయి.....వీళ్ళతో పాటు జిం లో ఒక పెద్ద విలన్ కూడా ఉంటాడు....వాడి పేరు 'ట్రైనర్ '...

బయట గ్రౌండులో పరిగెట్టిస్తే అట్నుంచి అటే ఇంటికి ఎక్కడ పారిపోతామో అని...జిం లో ట్రెడ్ మిల్ మీద పరిగెట్టిస్తాడు. నా వల్ల కాదు..ప్రాణభిక్ష పెట్టమని ఎంత అడుక్కున్నా చలించడు...

నెలనెలా డబ్బు కట్టమంటే మొదటి నెల తరువాత ఎవ్వడూ కట్టడని.. మూడు నెలలకు కలిపి కట్టించుకుంటారు డబ్బులు. క్రితం సారి జిం లో చేరినప్పుడు నేను కూడా మూడు నెలల డబ్బు కట్టాను..కానీ వెళ్ళింది ఒకటిన్నర రోజులు . నేను చేరిన రెండవ రోజే ట్రైనర్ శెలవు పెట్టాడు...వాడి అసిస్టెంటు నాతో మిస్టర్ యూనివర్సు పోటీలకు తయారయ్యే వాళ్ళు చేసే ఎక్సర్సైసులన్నీ చేయించాడు...ఒక్కొక్కటీ మూడు సార్లు.....
"ఒళ్ళు హూనం" అంటారుగా...దానిని 10 తో గుణిస్తే ఎమంటారో అది అయ్యింది నాకు.

ఆ రోజు రాత్రి నిద్ర పొయ్యి లేచాను...పైకి లేద్దామని చూస్తే నా వల్ల కాలేదు...చేతులకు, కాళ్ళకు బియ్యం బస్తాలు కట్టేసినట్టుంది...అటూ, ఇటూ ఒక్క అంగుళం కూడా కదలలేని పరిస్థితి....అయినా సరే నేను జిమ్ లు జాయిన్ అవ్వడము ఎగ్గోట్టడము ఎప్పుడు జరుగుతూనే ఉంటాయి ..

ఏమీ కష్టపడకుండా బరువు తగ్గే పధ్ధతి ఏదైన ఉందా అని నేను పరిశోధన చేస్తున్న సమయంలో దేవత లాగ కనిపించింది నా ఫ్రెండ్ కం ఫిలాసఫర్ స్వప్న ..నా చెవిలో 'డైటింగ్, డైటింగ్, డైటింగ్' అని మంత్రోఛ్ఛారణ చేసింది..
అంతే..ఒక వారం రోజుల పాటూ కడుపు ఎండగట్టాను...మూడు తలతిరగడాలు, ముప్పై మూడూ జ్వరాలతో డైటింగ్ దిగ్విజయంగా కొనసాగిస్తున్న సమయంలో...మా ఇంటి దగ్గర మెరపకాయ బజ్జీలవాడు "End of season sale" పెట్టాడు....పది రూపాయలకు బజ్జీలు కొంటే రెండు రూపాయల బోండాలు ఫ్రీ...తేరగా బోండాలువస్తుంటే వదులుకునేంత రాతి హృదయం కాదు నాది. కట్ చేస్తే.. నడుము చుట్టూ ఒక అంగుళం పెరిగింది...

ఆఫీసులో గ్రౌండ్ ఫ్లోర్ లో  ఉంటుంది నా సీటు.....మెట్లెక్కితే మంచి ఎక్సరసైసు అని లిఫ్టు ఎంత ఆహ్వానిస్తున్నా రోజూ మెట్లెక్కి పని ఉన్నా లేకపోయినా పై ఫ్లోర్ కి  వెళ్ళేవాడిని. కాని ఒక రోజు మెట్లెక్కబోతుంటే....అక్కడ ఉండే ఫైనాన్స్ వాడు ఆపి "పొద్దున్నుండి మెట్లు పని చెయ్యట్లేదు సార్...ఇవ్వాళ లిఫ్ట్ లో వెళ్ళండి" అన్నాడు. అంతే...నడుము చుట్టూ ఇంకో ఇంచు..


ఇలా నాకు తెలియకుండా కొంచెం కొంచెంగా బరువు పెరుగుతూ పోతున్న సమయంలో న్యూస్ పేపర్ లో ఒక చిన్న ప్రకటన చూసాను...

"అధిక బరువు మీ సమస్యా? అయితే ఈ నంబర్ కు ఫోను చెయ్యండి: 9999999999- మనోజ్ "...అని ఉంది. నేను ఆ మనోజ్  అనే మనిషి కి ఫోను చెయ్యంగానే 'నేనే మీ ఇంటికి వస్తాను సార్ ' అని అడ్రస్సు తీసుకున్నాడు..

ఆ దేవదూత మనోజ్  కోసం ఎదురుచూస్తూ గడియారం చూసాను..టైం 7:00 అయ్యింది. మంచినీళ్ళు తాగుదామని మంచం మీద నుంచి లేవబొయ్యాను...మెడ పట్టేసినట్టయ్యింది....అమ్మా...అస్సలు ఈ మెడ నొప్పంత దారుణంగా మనిషిని పీడించేది ఒకే ఒకటి - మెడ నొప్పి! దీనికి కారణమేంటో నాకు అర్థమయ్యింది...అందుకే ఆ రోజు నుంచి రాత్రి యేడింటికి నేను ఎప్పుడూ మంచినీళ్ళు తాగలేదు.

7:15 కంతా మనోజ్  మా ఇంటికి వచ్చాడు..చూడటానికి చాలా సన్నగా ఉన్నాడు..'ఆహా సరైన మనిషి చేతిలో పడ్డట్టున్నాను...నేను కూడ ఇంత సన్నగా అయిపోవచ్చూ అనుకుని.."రండి...ఏమి తీసుకుంటారు?" అని అడిగాను..."ఆల్రెడీ బయట మీ షూ పాలిష్ డబ్బా జేబులో వేసేసుకున్నాను..వేరే ఏమీ వద్దు " అన్నాడు...

నేను నా సమస్య చెబుదామనుకునేలోపు మళ్ళీ తనే మాట్లాడుతూ " సార్...నేను చిన్నప్పటి నుండి చాలా సన్నగా ఉన్నాను...ఎంత ప్రయత్నించినా లావు కావట్లేదు..మీ లాంటి వాళ్ళను కలిస్తే కొవ్వు ఎలా పెంచుకోవాలో చెబుతారని ఆ ప్రకటన ఇచ్చాను...ఇప్పుడు చెప్పండి...మీ అధిక బరువు రహస్యమేంటి?" అన్నాడు....తినటానికి తిండి లేదని ఒకడేడుస్తుంటే మందులోకి సైడ్ డిష్ అడిగాడంట వెనకటికి ఒక మనోజ్ ......

నా కంట్లో నీళ్ళు చూసి వాడికి పరిస్థితి అర్థమయ్యి వెళ్ళిపొయ్యాడు. ఆ వెళ్ళేవాడు ఊరికే పోకుండా.. బరువు తగ్గటానికి నాకు జిం వాళ్ళు ఇచ్చిన పొడి,గూట్లో పెట్టున్నది, తస్కరించుకుని మరీ వెళ్ళాడు.
తరువాత తెలిసింది నాకు....దానిని కంది పొడి లాంటిదే అనుకుని, నెయ్యి వేసుకుని అన్నంలోకి కలుపుకుని తిన్నాడంట...ఎలక లా ఉండేవాడు బొద్దింక లాగా తయారయ్యాడు......

ఇలాంటి తరుణంలో నేను, నా అధిక బరువు కలిసి ఒక సారి TV చూస్తుండగా టెలీ షాపింగ్ నెట్వర్క్ వాళ్ళ అడ్వర్టైస్మెంటు ఒకటి వచ్చింది..'AB CRUNCHER ' అనే పరికరం గురించిన ప్రకటన అది.. 

ఆ అడ్వర్టైస్మెంటులో అమ్మాయిలు, అబ్బాయిలు ఆనందంగా నవ్వుతూ ఎక్సర్సైసులు చేస్తున్నారు...వాళ్ళందరిలోకీ ఎక్కువగా నవ్వుతున్నవాడు "మా ఈ 'AB CRUNCHER ' తో వ్యాయామం చెయ్యండి...రోజుకు 10 నిముషాలు చాలు...మీ శరీరం లో ఉండే కొవ్వు అంతా కరిగి పోతుంది...కాళ్ళూ చేతులు బలంగా తయారౌతాయి...కండలు తిరుగుతాయి....పళ్ళు మిలమిలా మెరుస్తాయి..జుట్టు నిగనిగలాడుతుంది..చొక్కా తళతళ మెరిసిపోతుంది " అన్నాడు..ఇంతటి గొప్ప పరికరాన్ని పెట్టుకుని నేను అనవసరంగా కష్టపడుతున్నా...పైగా దీనితో బోలెడన్ని లాభాలు (పళ్ళు, జుట్టూ, చొక్కా)....వెంటనే ఆ పరికరం ఆర్డర్ చేసేసాను..3000 రూపాయలయ్యింది. దానిని ఇంటికి తెచ్చిన వాడు కూడా నవ్వుతూ ఇచ్చాడు...ఎంత మంచి మనుషులు వీళ్ళంతా.....

ఆలస్యం చెయ్యకుండా 'AB CRUNCHER' కవర్ తీసేసి, దాని మీద కూర్చుని, TV లో చూపించినట్టుగా నవ్వుతూ ఎక్సర్సైసు చెయ్యటానికి ప్రయత్నించా...అది ఎటూ కదలటం లేదు...ఒక అర గంట పాటు దానిని అన్ని వైపుల నుంచి కదల్చటానికి ప్రయత్నించా...దానికున్న పిడికి తగులుకుని నా షర్టు చిరిగాక వదిలేసా...అప్పుడర్థమయ్యింది..ఆ అడ్వర్టైస్మెంటు వాళ్ళూ, ఆ డెలివరీకి వచ్చిన వాడు ఎందుకు నవ్వుతూ కనిపించారో....అంత డబ్బు పోసి దీనిని కొనే నాలాంటి వాళ్ళు ఉన్నారు అని తెలిస్తే ఇక నవ్వక ఏంచేస్తారు?

పోనీ ఏవైన పుస్తకాల్లో లావు తగ్గటానికి మార్గాలుంటాయేమోనని నాలుగైదు పుస్తకాలు కొని చదివా...మంచి 10, 15 కిటుకులిచ్చి, చివరకు "మీరు ఇవన్నీ క్రమశిక్షణ, పట్టుదల తో చేస్తే తప్పకుండా చక్కటి,నాజూకైన శరీరం మీ సొంతమవుతుంది " అని రాస్తారు....అసలు ఆ క్రమశిక్షణ, పట్టుదలే ఏడ్చుంటే ఇలాంటి పుస్తాకాలు ఎందుకు కొంటాను?? అవి లేని వాళ్ళకోసం ఏవన్నా చిట్కాలుంటాయనే కదా ఈ తనకలాట...

కాస్త పెద్దవాళ్ళకెవరికైన నా బాధలు చెప్పుకుంటే "ఇప్పుడు ఉద్యోగాలలో పొద్దున్నుంచి కుర్చీలో కూర్చొనే ఉండాలి...అందుకే అలా లావుగా ఔతున్నారు " అంటారు...
నాకర్థం కాదు,..ఇదివరకు ఉద్యోగాలు చేసే వాళ్ళంతా ఆఫీసులో గంటకొకసారి కబడ్డీ ఆడేవాళ్ళా ఏంటీ??

అయినా ఈ విషయంలో దేవుడు నాకు అన్యాయం చేసాడనే చెప్పుకోవాలి..నాకు తెలిసిన కొంతమంది ఎంత తిన్నా, వ్యాయామం చెయ్యకపొయ్యినా లావు పెరగరు...మరి నేను ...గట్టిగా గాలి పీల్చినా రెండు కిలోలు బరువు పెరుగుతాను..

ఇవ్వాళ తెల్లవారుజామున గేటు చప్పుడైతే ఎవరబ్బా అని కిటికీలోంచి చూసా...పద్మ గారు...మా ఎదురింట్లోనే ఉంటుంది...నన్ను 'తమ్ముడూ...తమ్ముడూ ' అని ఎంతో ప్రేమతో పలకరించేది ఎప్పుడూ....
తలుపు తీసి "రండి ఆంటీ" అన్నాను. దానికి ఆవిడ "లావాటి అన్నయ్య గారూ....కొంచం పంచదార వుంటే ఇస్తారా...మీ బావగారికి జిం కు ఆలస్యమౌతొంది " అంది..

ఈ సూటిపోటి మాటల బరువు నేను మొయ్యలేను..ఇంకో మూడు నెలల్లో నేను బరువు తగ్గుతాను.....ఒక వేళ తగ్గకపోతే....దానికి నైతిక బాధ్యత వహించి మన రాష్ట్రపతి రాజీనామా చెయ్యాలి!

ANDHRA BANK... Where a choiceless India banks

The other day  I decided to open a bank account with Andhra bank ( doesn’t have anything with Telangana sentiment) , the biggest mistake I did was to go to bank myself rather than sending my office peon. Its gut wrenching, as it is the first time I entered a public sector bank premises for any purpose. –I simply couldn’t handle the intensity and range of emotions that an Andhra bank experience took me through. I’m convinced it is a ploy by the government to nip the little rebel n you– nothing prepares you for a life of dealing with Andhra bank employees who do not give a fuck about what you want.

When you enter an AB outlet, you will notice a man your grandpas age carrying a double barrel gun. This is called security. Because really, nothing makes me feel more secure than a man needing a cataract operation carrying weapons from the sets of Sardar Paparayudu. When was the last time you saw dacoits charging in on horses trying to loot a branch even in Gooty? Wouldn’t it look fantastic when a bunch of thieves come in with quick loading handguns and shoot the place down and our man is busy trying to find bullets somewhere inside his medicine box? Isn’t it easier to buy a walking stick instead of a double barrel if they’re used for the same purpose? I know! Why don’t we just keep cannons inside the outlet? Seriously, that’ll scare them! Cannons! Even our man will look more authentic standing next to one. Not like anyone is going to museums in India, plus the kids will have fun shoving their heads inside the barrel instead of running around like puppies on crack trying to scratch a tick on their ass.

You will then meet the employees. You know how in superhero movies a mad scientist always inserts a serum inside a human body which goes terribly wrong and creates the villain? That’s what DRDO does with Andhra bank employees. Able-bodied individuals are taken from each state and inserted with a serum that makes them equally shitty no matter which state or branch you have the misfortune of visiting. They’re like human Mig-21s. I’m surprised every employee doesn’t have a serial number (AB-05-3304/172) written with a chalk on their forehead like every computer desktop, almirah, metal chair and everything else that is classified as government infrastructure. There’s a fun game I like to play when I’m at AB i.e. spot the employee who’ll keel over and die of diabetes first.

AB branches operate on a crucial principal i.e. every branch will have multiple counters out of which only ONE will be functional. Other counters will either be empty mocking your existence or have employees sitting around drinking tea refusing to do your work. It’s the governmental equivalent of showing rebellion by wearing a Che t-shirt. You then stand in a “queue” flanked by two people on either side whose only job is to somehow cut in front of you if the opportunity arises. They are usually older, have a big cyst on their scalp and pull every emotional card they know. The first includes not saying a word – just looking at you every three seconds and grinning nonchalantly. The second is the emotional card of having to deposit money into a distant relative’s account who has blood cancer (a trope from 80s Telugu cinema where for some reason that’s all people got) and won’t be able to recover if a sum of 900 rupees isn’t deposited immediately.  The third is when they realise they have an account in Central Bank of India and not AB and that they just wasted theirs and everyone else’s time. Finally after an hour when your turn finally comes, an employee will emerge from the back bearing prasad from a recent trip to a religious centre which will then lead to a 30 minute conversation between the tea drinking employees about all the religious centres they have ever visited and which offered the best prayer conversion rate so their mother in laws would get herpes and kids wouldn’t have to work in an AB. There are higher chances of Narendra Modi getting a U.S. visa in one shot than your work getting done at these ironically named “single window” counters. When they say 0% interest, they’re talking about how they feel about their work.

What this waiting period does provide however is a chance to reflect on the deeper, more existential questions in life. For example, why does an Andhra bank poster of a fixed deposit always feature a white baby doing shit like growing a plant? First off its not an Indian baby if it doesn’t have a black circular spot on the forehead atleast 40 cm in diameter that will miraculously save it from ill will. When was the last time you saw a baby who was fond of gardening? An accurate representation would be a baby eating mud and shitting itself crying while the parents pull their hair out trying to access their fixed deposit. Why does Syndicate Bank have a dog as their logo? Why do I know things like Syndicate bank having a dog as their logo? Will Syndicate bank be successful in Korea because people love eating dogs? Am I supposed to be turned on by the aunty counting money in slow motion while constantly licking her finger?

While in that queue, an aunty saw me carrying my application receipt and started chatting me up. I say chatting me up because it sounds sexier than using the word conversation.

Beta, you’re applying for the new application?

(ledandi naaku janaala  hair oil vaasana  peelchalani sarada ( no aunty , its fun to smell people’s hair oil) Haa aunty

At this point aunty looked at me as if I was Deepak Chaurasia’s testicle and turned away. If there was ever an justification for my helpless impulsive shopping, its never having to step foot in an AB ever again to deposit money again. I hope you never have to either, unless you have an account in the State Bank of Travancore. You know your bank is shit when the kingdom its named after doesn’t even exist.

THE NEEDLE MAN

Stranger things have happened? I think f*cking not...

And now I have proof of that very fact.

Take for example what happened to me when I stepped out for a run in Bangalooru. It was last weekend, and friends and I were chilling there, so I decided a jog would be awesome. So I stuck on my running shoes, warmed up and set off. And it was a good jog, the sort where you can hear, and almost feel, the dying screams of little globules of fat in your body. I made it four kilometers, and I felt good, by which I mean "another 100 meters and I'll die of an asthama attack and hernia all at once", so I decided to walk back home.

So, I'm ambling down the street, feeling good about life, looking forward to a nice guilt-free Dusera dinner, and suddenly this guy starts walking towards me, all wide-eyed, and pointing excitedly in the general direction of my head, like he expected a midget to come running out of it and fart the macarena.

So I froze, based on past experience. I mean, it's happened before, maybe it's happened to you too; you're walking under a tree, or a large shrub, and some sort of insect/worm/odd creature/bird shit lands on your head or clothing, and you don't notice.

So I figured he'd spotted something like that and was going to help me. And he kept coming at me, still pointing, asking me to hold still. And then he reached for my shoulder, which is where I figured the trouble was.

And then, just for fun, he pulled a needle out his pocket and tried to stab me in the ear.

Now, you will agree that unless the ghost of Sir Lancelot is hanging off his earlobe, there is simply no excuse to try and spear a man in the ear. And so, luckily, thanks to the sort of reflexes and titanium-grade wrist-strength that only years of masturbation can bring, I managed to grab his hand just before he got it in there.

Now most people would have run away by this point, but no sir, not me. I say this not because I'm brave (rubbish, I think I'd wee'd myself a bit by then), but because I am nine hundred kinds of stupid.

"Oi." I said, by way of conversation opener.

"Arre!" he said, by way of his opening move.

"What are you doing?! Why are you trying to stick a needle up my ear?!" I ventured.

"Ah" he said, looking at the needle in his hand as if he'd only just noticed its presence. "Accchhaaa!! Okka nimusham (telugu for one minute) ! Pleej. Wait!" he added, with the look of a man who's realized that unless some sort of explanation comes quickly, he's going to get a needle up his rectum.

With his free hand, he pulled a card out of his pocked and handed it to me. "chadavandi!" Read, he implored me. And, because I'm that stupid, and because it isn't every day that you get to live out a Bunuel-Dali co-production, I actually read it. Here is what it said:

"Hello! I would like to recommend to you the services of the bearer of this card, Mr.Munna Yadav, a professional ear-cleaner. I have used his services before on several occasions, and I whole-heartedly recommend his excellent services, which will clean your ear like never before!"

That is *exactly* what it said on that card. Those very words, that very language. And underneath, the writer of this fine testimonial had signed his identity:

Signed

By The Authority.

That's what it said. "By The Authority". No name, no signature. Well, wow, guess he's super-reliable then, seeing as how he's "The Authority" and all.

"Boss," I said, handing his card over. "nuvvellu ikkada nundi." Get outta here.

He looked at me for two seconds before making me a counter-offer.

"Accha.Fine baaleka pothe paisalivvoddu , kaani cheyinchuko!!"

Sigh. Fine. Don't pay for my services, but lemme stick a needle in you for free!

And that, there, is the beauty of optimism. Not only will you go into denial about the fact that you're *this* close to an ass-kicking, but you'll offer me the valuable service of getting a needle in my noggin for, gasp, FREE!

I suppose as a bonus, given that it was Dusera  and all, he'd let me bend over for him free of cost too.

And so I looked at him, incredulous. And discovered that while looks can't kill, they can say "leave before I throw you into oncoming traffic" because he shook his head and left, in search of someone else to stab with a needle.

The moral of the story is simple; if I hadn't set out to exercise, I wouldn't have been accosted by a needle-happy madman.

That shit can't happen to you when you're on the couch with chips watching the Test match. And so that's exactly what I went home and did.

For the next two days.

ALL FOR THAT HUNK LOOK

I've always thought that exercise is a bit over-rated, and that it does you more harm than good. Every time I go for workouts, I think it's one of those dirty secrets that only a select group of powerful people somewhere know, like those people who apparently know that Jesus is coming back (a week from Tuesday, apparently), or that group that ordered the Kennedy assassination. I think there's a group like that for exercise as well, made up of people like Arnold Schwarznegger and co, who meet once a week to laugh at people like me who go on three kilometer jogs and still have the highs  size of South America. They get together to eat pizza and the souls of small children, and they laugh at me, because deep down, they know exercise is bad for you.

Being a fitness freak and lack of entertainment in gooty made me to enroll in the gym of local officers club which I ve zeroed after a long tiresome search, before the daily dose of protein shakes and oat meals , it is the same everyday, stretch like Jane Fonda on the perverted bars, run like Forrest Gump on thread mill with other  folks around you smelling like mountain goats. The gym here also boasts itself for having a sauna which is not a easy thing either, but it taught me empathy. Now I feel like what a potato feels inside a microwave oven, or how a shirt will feel inside a washing machine

.

The companions I got in this gym range from good to ugly, starting with the smelly goats herding toward the weights and make painful faces and equally painful sounds as though they were being sodomized. Hell, if it is so painful to lift that thing in the first place, why lift it at all.

And there is this woman who look like a “Helga” who comes to gym everyday with her dog. I call her “Helga”, because, that’s the name that crosses my mind when I think of an obnoxious, arrogant middle-aged woman. I think she considers herself good looking, well at least somebody did. The more I looked at Helga, the more I liked her dog.

Then there was this middle aged man whom I refer here as “Dick”. A formless being, his sole purpose in life was to come in and ogle at all the pretty woman at peak-time,all he do is to chat up all the women in the gym. For some strange reason, he used to work out in what one can call a “ monkey-cap”. It was like a condom pulled right over his head and he is a dick of highest order. You know those typical ones with the garrulous laughter and fake lecherous smile who laugh at all the wrong parts of the joke? That kind. May be he comes in just to see if all the machines are being worked optimally.

Then there is this “The Thing”. All bulged up, so stiff that he could have given a telephone pole real stiff competition. Sixty percent of his time was spent on looking at himself in the mirror and striking strange poses, twenty percent would be spent on grunting with weights, eighteen percent spent walking around and showing off his muscles and the balance two percent on going back to where he started. I wonder ,may be he eat rocks as food, as they also seem to have found their way into his head. His face is like a thoroughly beaten up jerry can and we could have used those arms as jacks for replacing a flat-Tyre. If we chopped off his legs, they could have been used as beams to hold up two municipality buildings of gooty, built by cheap contractors, to prevent the roof from caving in. He can be practically categorized as a “construction equipment”  and so he is “The Thing”

 I have changed my dietary pattern also . oats are in.  I am having so much of oats that I have no choice  but to stand and sleep at nights like a horse. Oats do that to you; that’s why horses sleep while standing. The nuts and crackers made me think like a bird. The meals had to be high-fiber and if I couldn't get a high fibre meal, I should chew bed-covers and linen. Chicken and mutton are a strict no-no and I am living life at a discount.

With all these efforts, hopefully,  I could turn into my new shape like that dude from “Avatar” before I move out of this place

Effect of Toofan(zanzeer)

*Krishna + Crowd wait outside screening room for 11 45 pm showing of Get Shudh desi romance*

*11 45 becomes midnight.*

*Midnight becomes 12 15*

Us: "Uh. Excuse me. Why won't you let us in yet."

Inox Staff: "Actually sir, room is being cleaned."

Us: "For this long?!"

Inox Staff: "Um. Actually sir, Toofan (Zanzeer) was going on, so cleaning will take little more time."

ON BEING FAT, OR PRETTY

This article written by my friend on ZYNGA , copy-pasted as it is, with her permission and concealed her identity on her request.... somehow felt familiar

On Tubby Legs and Heavy Hearts

I watched a video on Upworthy today. A video about Dustin Hoffman on his character in the film ‘Tootsie’. I’m sure it was shared somewhere on your Facebook walls or Twitter timelines.

If not, here it is — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPAat-T1uhE

Watch it again, if you haven’t already.

Now, I haven’t blogged here in a very, very long time, but today, this moved me to immediately pen down my thoughts.

Mr. Hoffman, at one point in the video, says he couldn’t believe that he wasn’t more attractive when he was made-up to look like a woman. For me, this hit the proverbial nail right on its narrow-minded head.

I’ve struggled with weight and self-esteem issues for as long as I can remember. Apart from being a skinny toddler, I’ve always had the chubbiest cheeks, the tubbiest legs and the dimples on my elbows that so many kids in school seemed to lack.

Back then, it was cute. I was pampered and smothered with love. People would stop my mum on the street and comment on how adorable I was.

Now, as I face the problem of being overweight, it’s not so cute anymore.

I have no excuses to make for my weight, and I don’t choose to look for any. Simply put, I love food. I love everything that is bad for me and I lack the willpower to say “no” on a regular basis. But I don’t think that’s stopped me from leading a happy, relatively active lifestyle. I travel a fair bit, I run around for meetings all day and I rarely turn down an invitation to go dancing. The problem is that I’m constantly afraid of what I look like.  If I dress up at home before a night out, I feel like I am pretty, until I step out on to the street. I look at the dresses women around me wear, and the fact that they can flaunt parts of themselves that I’d never dream of inflicting upon the general public.

Many times, I’ve tried to combat this feeling. I’ve worn knee-length shorts to Bandra and received strange looks on my way. I’ve worn an off-shoulder top and been asked to change, by my parents.

I’ve been out with friends and heard people say, “Dekh dekh, kitni moti hai”, as I’ve walked past them.

I’ve run into people from school all over the city, and a fair number (not all) of them have said the exact same thing – “You’ve not changed at all! Still fat!”

Once, I’ve been told that I must “be so funny because I have to compensate for my weight.”

It’s come to a point where I recently refused to go to an event that asked you to “Flaunt Your Back”, partly because I was terrified that I’d be the only one who wasn’t able to bring herself to actually do it.

I’ve always had skinny friends, and, when we go shopping, I stand and look at jewellery while they rummage through the latest collections, because there’s no way I’ll get clothes my size.

I go to a tailor to get a lot of my clothes stitched, and I never tell people that because I’m embarrassed. Instead, I’ll “forget” where that shirt is from, or say, “My mother bought it.”

My favourite instance, though, was when someone who used to follow this very blog many years ago, got talking to me and asked if we could meet. I agreed, semi-reluctantly, and we went to a neighbourhood coffee shop. I was having a good hair day, and I wore my nicest top and jeans. I reached five minutes early and occupied a prime spot. 

As I waited for this person (Let’s call them “A”) to show up, I nervously checked if my kajal was smudged. just then, someone who i suspected could be “A” walked in, looked at me and walked out.

I was too nervous and shy to say anything, so I sat and waited. “A” sat at a nearby table. We both ordered cups of coffee, drank them and left, without saying a word to each other.

I messaged “A” later that night, after hours of toying with my phone and dealing with feelings I was unable to completely process. The reply to my question, “Where were you?” was, “I came in and saw you. But you were very different from what I expected. So I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can be friends.”

Instead of letting it go, I pushed for a clarification. In no uncertain terms, “A” messaged back – “You’re too fat. I’m sorry.”

Now, I’m not saying this to garner pity or anything of the sort. I’m not looking for you to say, “Awwww, you poor thing”, nor am I pretending that there’s nothing I can do about this.

But this isn’t my point. 

As I watched this video, it hit me – I’m conditioned to believe that, just because I’m overweight, I am not beautiful. I am not someone you’d chat up in a bar, nor am I someone you’d claim to have a crush on.

It’s me, more than anything – I refuse to accept compliments under the guise of being coy. I immediately discount the fact that I could be remotely interesting to anyone, because, hey, look at me.

I am blessed to be surrounded by close friends who’ve never made me feel the pinch, so to speak. They’ll sit by quietly as we slowly suffocate to death due to lack of space in a rickshaw and move the table a little further away from the seat when I have to get up at a restaurant.

I guess, at some level, I’m just writing this to say, we all face this everywhere. No matter who we are and what we do, we will always find imperfections within ourselves – some obvious, some invisible to anyone else.

After watching this video today, I find myself sitting here with tears streaming down my face, because, even though so many years have passed, “A”‘s text still rings in my head every time I check myself out in a mirror, or look at photos of myself.

I will probably never feel beautiful or attractive. No matter how my body changes over the years, there will always be something to nitpick about, and, to be honest, I don’t know how I will ever combat it, and if I’ll ever be able to move past this negative body image.

It will always come as a genuine surprise when someone tells me they think I’m pretty, and I will never be able to positively respond to such a statement.

But, I will try. 

Will you? 

"DEAR DR SAMARAM... I AM A BRAIN DEAD. Please help"

 I love SWATI (A hugely popular Telugu weekly) Aside from offering us images of dazzlingly proportioned women who have finally found a useful purpose for whipped cream, it also has a special feature column named "SUKHASAMSAARAM"  i which a famous sexologist Dr Samaram gets queries from the flotsam, jetsam and dimsums of the human race.

my predecessor of bangaulow has left in cupboard a lot of old swati books which i am reading right now.  Below is a bunch of ACTUAL questions I found  in those column called some at a love/relationships agony column, the other at a sex advice column. I have provided answers wherever I've seen fit, just in case any of you are plagued by the same questions:

Hi, married 4 yr. back and don't have kids. My prob is my husband didn't respond my desires, he always ignore it and busy with mobile etc. I'm trying to talk to him so many times he replies- Every thing is upto in God, believe in God, wait and see. Now I'm fed up all of this...he don't have any interest in husband wife relationship. He fulfill all basic household requirements, help in the kitchen, partying, socializing with me but only one thing is no no. Tell me what to do?

As my friend Girish suggested, upon reading your query; "Try sending him an sms?"

Good afternoon sir. i loved a girl and she also loved me. we had some joy moments. i have kissed her lips and ************ but she has left me. i am puzzled. answer me sir.

Dear dude. As I have never had joy moments with a woman's asterisks, I have no understanding of your dilemma.

sir i have affair with my sister in law shall i continue

Yes. Also, continue raping children, continue throwing rotten apples at homosexuals, and take the lead in a giant race riot. These are all also examples of appropriate behaviour.

i am attracted with my mother-in-law, how to attract her for physical relationship? advice me...

Fuck.

I have no grilfriend canyou give me a girlfriend

Will cyanide do instead?

My problem is despiet being happily married, I get attracted to beautiful women. Due to my suave talking skills, most of them also get attracted to me with full trust on me. My wife will get furious if she knwos that I was freindly to a gal in the last birth also. Idont mind, as I find every individual being unique and different soul. How do I reconcile?

hi IM IN LOVE WITH A GIRL,SHE ALSO LOVES ME BUT EARLIER SHE WAS AN ESCORT N NOW A DAYS SHE IS NOT DOING ALL THIS BULLSHIT BUT I DNT KNOW I FEEL THAT SHE IS USING ME AS SHE LIES ME ALOT ALWAYS DEMANDS MONEY FROM ME SHE GOES TO NIGHT CLUB N COMES BACK HOME LATENITE KINDLY ADVISE AS M VERY MUCH UPSET

hi IM A FOUR LEGGED ANIMAL WITH A TENDENCY TO MOO. SURELY THIS DOESNT MEAN IM A COW, RIGHT? (SHE'S A HO SHE'S A HO SHE'S A HO). I HAVE AN UDDER AND EVERY FEW DAYS A MAN COMES AND YANKS AT IT (HO HO HO!)AND I SECRETE MILK AS A RESULT. SURELY THIS DOES NOT HAVE TO MEAN I AM A COW? (DUDE! SHE RUNS OFF TO THE CLUB WITHOUT YOU WITH YOUR DOUGH! NOW, WHAT RHYMES WITH DOUGH?!)

I am a 25-year-old man. The size of my testicles has reduced over a period of time. Will this affect my future sex life? Please suggest a remedy for this.

Dear Bobby Darling. Stop asking me dude...ette.

I am a 24-year-old man. When I have sex with my girlfriend, she asks me to wear three condoms as she is scared. Can I use one condom? Please tell. 

My friend recently had unprotected sex with one of her staff. She hasn’t got periods yet, her last was on 21st November. She’s been eating papayas. Kindly suggest a solution urgently. She is very worried.

There is no solution for eating papayas. Some people just seem to like em. Congratulations on your friend's pregnancy though...

I am 23 years old. Some time back I used to "handpractice" because of which my penis has turned left. I have quit handpractice since two years now, but there's no improvement. I applied many Ayurvedic oils but to no avail. Please tell me, will this be a huge problem after marriage? If yes, what should I do?

Your penis turned left? Shit. But the directions specifically say go STRAIGHT for four blocks, then turn RIGHT and take the flyover. Fuck off now, let it stay lost. I also used to do handpractice. Now I prefer typing, it's a lot quicker.

I am a 24-year-old man. Six months ago I was sexually involved with my uncle. I have heard that such activities lead to AIDS. Please advise, he wants to have more sex with me.

Dear dude. Unless your uncle is named Cameron Diaz, you're both fucking pervs.

I am under tremendous pressure. I have red spots on my penis and an itching sensation too. A doctor had told me it is 'haprics' or something like that and put me on medication for six months. I used to visit sex workers occasionally during this time and I noticed the spots would increase only after using a condom. Please let me know how dangerous this 'haprics' is and how do I overcome this problem.

Im sorry your penis is an industrial-grade toilet cleaner.

I am a 25-year-old married man, with a baby. My wife and I have a great sex life. Whenever she feeds the baby, I'd get a feed too. Will this habit cause any disease for the two of us? My wife likes it, but will she get breast cancer if we continue?

What the fuck dude?

Is it true that if you masturbate, your moustache grows? My friend says that it does.

Yes. And when you yank on your left testicle, a Norweigian man hiccups somewhere. Also, is your friend's name Gandalf?

I had recently read in your advice in this column about dipping testicles in cold water for ten minutes. Why did you suggest that? What can be the result of it in our body?

Dear dude, I was stoned and I thought the image of a dude hovering over a bucket of cold water and dipping his sack in every few minutes would be funny.

I am a 35-year-old married man. When I get sexually excited, I emit a transparent fluid through my penis. I suffer from occasional memory loss. What's my problem?

(expert's actual reply) Rest assured; you are not passing your memory through the secretion. This is normal with all men and occurs when a person is excited. If it has increased, check for infection with your doctor. Also, ask for remedies for your loss of memory.

I am 47 years old and married. We enjoyed a satisfactory sex life till this Diwali. But recently I had severe electric shock. I haven't been able to get an erection ever since, even after masturbating and watching porn. Can this be rectified? What would be the duration and the expense of the treatment?

HA HA! You got a cock-shock! HA HA!

The position of my penis has changed due to masturbation. What should I do?

If by "changed position", you mean that it now hangs out your left armpit, consult a doctor.

What is meant by sperms and can it be dangerous to me in the future?

Sperms are a bunch of expert Olympic grade swimmers who prefer hot climates. In their country, medals are considered evil, and so they race for eggs instead. True story. They will be very fucking dangerous to you in the future, as all 100 million of them will convince you that that chick at the bar is damn hot. The next morning, you will awaken to find yourself nestled in the folds of fat of a sub-woman who looks like Marilyn Manson with a dysfunctional thyroid gland.

I am an 18-year-old man. Whenever I watch porn I secrete a white substance from my penis. I feel giddy. What is the solution?

The solution is called cum. It is made of albumin, spermatazoa and Fevicol. I just made that up.

I am an 18-year-old man. I have been suffering from bed wetting since birth. I have also been masturbating for the last four years. I try to wake up early in morning to urinate but in vain. I have also stopped masturbating because of this problem. Please suggest an exercise which will help me to stop bed wetting?

Fucking fuck dude. You pee in your bed at 18?

I am an 18-year-old man. I take tuitions from a tutor who is 21 years old. She is always asking me to have sex with her and satisfy her sexual urges. I get excited but I feel it's not the right age for me to indulge in such activities. What is premature ejaculation, anal sex and oral sex? Will I contract AIDS if I have unprotected sex with a woman who is not infected by AIDS?

Lucky fuck. I really went to the wrong tution teachers. I was stuck going to Aditya coaching centre.

What is an orgasm? Can it be seen or one just experiences it?

*insert obligatory "no-one can be told what the Matrix is..." joke HERE*

I am a 17-year-old boy. I enjoy staying nude at home. I masturbate every alternate day. I love to watch porn too. I want to tell my parents about all this but I am scared. Please help. Also, will drinking sperms cause any harm to me?

No. But telling people you drink your splooge will.

I am a 22-year-old man. I have been getting severe headache attacks on the days I masturbate. They often last for 3 to 4 hours. Sometimes they are also followed by a hissing sound in my head and I feel as if there is an intermittent flow of blood inside my head. I am really worried. What can be the solution to this?

Hissing sound? Really?

We indulged in sex once or twice a month. For the last couple of months she has been getting dreams that she is indulging in sex with her close relatives. She blames her sex life for that. She wants to stop having sex with me. I am not mentally prepared to marry any other girl. How should I convince my girlfriend that we can have a normal relationship without having sex?
She. Dreams. of. Banging. Relatives.

Dude. What. The. Fuck. 

I am a 25-year-old man. I masturbate at least twice a week. I have never had sex but would love to do it safely. I try to get pleasure by caressing one of my relatives which arouses me. Is it okay for me to derive pleasure in this manner?

(actual expert reply) Ask yourself – your relatives are very tolerant of you. Wait till you are married.