Thursday, 29 September 2011

Sms – Petrol Bhai Bhai

In the last three months petrol prices were hiked almost five times, if I am not wrong. Everyone, just everyone went on ranting about it. So much that it became a trending topic on Twitter. The whole world was wondering what exactly Rs. 3 meant! Petrol prices affected us or not, whether we were driving a diesel or a petrol car or traveling all over the nation in flights, all of us were cribbing about it. However little did anyone pay much importance to our dearest service providers treating mobile phones like cars/airplanes and the sim as petrol tank and the balance as if PETROL.





Name it – Airtel, Vodafone, Docomo, Aircel… Each and every one of them who came out with lifetime validity, one paisa per second schemes, unlimited SMS packs, internet packs suddenly and secretly changed schemes.

First of all they changed lifetime validity scheme. No more your sim will be valid for life, so no, you don’t have to laugh along with Ranbir Kapoor when he cracks joke about your late grandma has recharged a new lifetime scheme. Rather your life is now limited to six months. So after every six months you start panicking about life being really short!

Then about the epic “ONE PAISA PER SECOND” scheme. I still remember when Aircel launched free calls from Aircel to Aircel. People sitting side by side were calling each other to know “Time kya hua”. But then Airtel and Vodafone went against Aircel, blocked calls from Aircel and Aircel introduced one paisa per second along with Docomo. Every one of us fell for Docomo’s schemes. So did I. Plus their lovely SMS scheme of pay for first two sms and then 100 free. And now, all this is history.

It is either 1.2 paisa per second for same provider calls or 1.4 paisa per second to others. (If am not wrong) So you can laugh your heart out at our own tomfoolery.




Yesterday I went to recharge my internet pack and the next shocker came when the shop owner told me 1GB for 98 and 2GB for 149. Ok Fine. I understand that our internet packs never get finished. But WTF?!?!? 1GB for 98? I remember pulling my friend’s leg when Docomo did the same and now I became the “Bakra”. Either you shut the 1GB scheme or lower both the price and the data charges. Seriously you guys are already so rich! How much do you want?

AND finally TRAI oh TRAI I love you like I hate you. How do you bar people from messaging? Just few months back I met a lovely American who was going all gaga about how much we use sms and what lovely schemes we have and how lovely is the network here and then you just have to do this? Tell me all of you in TRAI, were you guys having problem managing your kids? Like staying wake whole night and messaging? You put a stupid limit by giving no-valid-reasons!?! You want to stop bulk sms? Fine stop them why stop us from messaging?!

Having said all these, we will all get used to it. Now if by chance MTS or some stupid provider puts on a commercial of free more SMS or balance I am straightaway going to slap the people who made those commercials.





So forget ranting about transport and wonder what you are going to do with your mobile bill now. Communication is now a pain in your ass. Your mobile phone is nothing less than a car. Petrol and your SMS or any balance is same. Yes Indo-China is not the only Bhai-Bhai but SMS and Petrol too. :-x


P.S. The pictures are downloaded from the internet and then edited.

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Dear Bengali boy, what’s with the accent?


Before you give me a stupid reason that you studied in some St. Bla Bla School or some convent where the brothers and their fathers made you pay fine if you didn’t talk in Angrezi, let me tell you something, I studied in one of those St. Bla Bla Schools too. And if you say my English is poor and I don’t speak proper English, well let me tell you once again, I did my grads with English Honours and I came 1st among girls and 2nd in the whole class, so cut the crap.

What’s with the fake accent my boy? Like “I-Am-Soon-To-Move-Out-Of-Bengal-Soon-To-Be-A-NRI” accent. When you pronounce “What” it sounds like “Howot”, your fake English makes it hard for me to wonder in which part of the city you come from. I am damn sure Prof Higgins would have quit his hobby cum profession hearing you ‘speek’.

And what is wrong in those Jeans that never seem to fit your waist. Are you trying to become one of those zero-figure models or is it that you are out of belts? No matter how fat you are, they always seem to go down, down and down. Gives me a feeling that you guys are more desperate than the porn stars who are always ready to drop their pants!

I don’t get the point of you all wearing fake Puma, Adidas, Reebok apparels and trying hard to convince your friends that it is “O-ri-genal”. I know you guys are real jealous of your North Bengal species whose style of dressing and even the way of their upbringing has made many girls go gaga. But dearest I would prefer my Bengali Boy and not Bong Dude to wear a simple White Kurta-Pyjama rather than a Levi’s t-shirt whose fabric has faded with the first two wash or the Gucci jeans whose print spells – GUCHI.

And please note, even I love wearing flippers to work or classes but I seldom give in to the idea. Thanks to our SOOOPER CLEAN city. So please stop wearing those flippers that never get cleaned and whose red colour looks like some copper artwork on your feet. Please note, girls have a fascination and obsession about clean shoes and feet, so next time you come with long nails, dirty feet, I will probably end up buying you a Vim Bar and Scrotch-Brite.

And gosssssssh what is wrong with your choice of tattoos? Being Human t-shirts were sustainable but a Being Human tattoo? Are you a human being?

As for the hair part, not everyone looks good with those long spiked hair. Please note in this whole world there can be only one JIM MORISSON or Kurt Cobain. And Dhoni isn’t your distant relative and neither is John Abraham. Even they have cut down so please go to some Salon and fix those oily swallow’s nest on your head.

Boy, I know you earn around 30K a month. Which is quite good if you are living in Kolkata however it goes beyond my imagination when you flaunt your ID card of that IT industry where all of you want to work? And the next time you try flaunting to me that “Look I work in IBM”, let me tell you, no girl is interested in your profession; at the end of the day all they want is their guy is well settled and has a respectable job.

We all would love to see a simple, down to earth, no wannabe-desperate HUNK guy instead of a guy who seems like as if he is going on a national level competition of “I got to compete with DELHI-MUMBAI-BANGALORE DUDES”. For god’s sake, we are all Indians, born into different cultures. You don’t like Rabindranath Tagore, cool, there is no harm in that but please don’t have to fake that you know so much about him and love his songs and lyrics so much that you mix Bideshini or Bhindeshi.  Bhindeshi is Chandrabindoo’s song and yes Chandrabindoo, Cactus, Bhoomi and Fossils aren’t the only bands in Kolkata. There are more.

No I don’t want to go with you to the same Park Street restaurants every time we go on a date. Park Street is not the end of the world. It is no Hogwarts and the only sustainable place in Kolkata. I love Park Street but am tired of your Flurys, One Step Up, The Street CafĂ©, Oly Pub dates. I prefer a Babu’s Hotel now. Gosh we have gone there so much that every time I visit those places with my friends now, the waiters come and ask, “Madam how are you? Sir kaise hai?”

Can you please stop being the DJ or the RJ while traveling in the bus, train or auto? It’s really irritating. Already there is so much of noise and then you come out with your TWO SPEAKER WALA CHINESE HANDSET playing some KUMKUM title track which I'm sure your mother has also stopped watching.

You want a girlfriend? Please find in your close circles. Stop courting people in the metro or while she is crossing the road or waiting for a taxi. You will probably get bashed up by her brother’s hooligan-friends. Yes you never know which family she might belong to.

And no you are no intellectual and the only educated chap in this city. Please stop watching only those faltu BODYGUARD types of movies to prove how much you know about cinema. Also if you don’t like metal songs don’t go to metal concerts and mosh to break chairs, desperately trying to prove what a BIG metal head you are. This act of yours will only prove what big ARSE you are.

Stop complaining that you’re EX was a dumb. I have finally discovered why there are plenty of dumb girls in Kolkata. They were invented to cater your sick minds. So you deserve them more than anything else in this world. They are your personal trophies. Equal to Oscars. And before you start bashing up those real nice guys, the rare species who are sadly already engaged or have fled away from this city or has grown up in a different city, DUDE, zip your jeans and wash your hands, they stink.

Thanks to you, Kolkata is going from red to green, green and greener. Very soon, we will have to travel on cow pulled cart coz sincere thanks to your great knowledge in politics you have selected such beautiful leaders who are damn busy about degenerating Kolkata. Thanks to you, I think twice before asking my friend to come down and live in this city which was once a city full of joy.

Lastly, no, PoBo isn’t the sister of SoBo and neither South Kolkata is the only sophisticated posh area of Kolkata. FYI, I can find you the most sophisticated lads in Burdwan too! Who has much more better knowledge of women than you do!

I don’t have any personal grudge against you. You just disappoint me to the lowest level of humanity. I am so disappointed that I will have to disappoint my parents by never agreeing to marry a BONG dude. Thanks. And please shave you arm-pits, they stink more than a girl's!

Sunday, 4 September 2011

Just another love story


They were the best of friends. More than friends. They were the best lovers. They made everyone else jealous. He was her belief in relationships. She was his belief in love. They had a pet owl. The owl was their symbol of presence. He moved to another city. They broke off. She blamed his father. He blamed her ego.  They stopped talking to each other. She cut off from everyone he knew. He cut off from life that she knew. She didn’t cry. She never believed in crying. She thought it was a waste of time.

But they couldn’t forget each other. He kept messaging her. She kept expecting the message.

Things moved on like that. But she never replied. One day the messages stopped coming. She got sad. She waited and waited. She couldn’t bear no more. She messaged him one day. He replied. She messaged no more. He kept messaging her again. Then one day he called her. She didn’t pick up. He went to meet her at her house. She was surprised. He blamed her indirectly for everything. She didn’t say anything. Her mother blamed her for unable to keep relationships. She still didn’t cry.

She met new people. She thought she moved on. She was having fun. Life seemed to be better. But one day she saw him with someone else. He was in her city. He didn’t tell her. They met by chance. They ignored each other. And then finally she broke into tears. Uncontrollable. She felt all alone. She thought she was all alone.

But then she met someone. They became good friends. More than good friends. Close friends. Special friends. She saw him as someone to keep her mind away from the past. She was looking towards the future. Nowhere concentrating on the present. She didn’t know what he felt. One day, suddenly, the guy came and told her – we are just good friends. She was ok with it. Just ok. Things changed. They were now good friends. Then just friends. Months passed like this. At the end of the year, the new guy told her that he loves her but can’t be with her. She felt cheated. She felt weak, terrible. She felt like an experiment. She felt she was an object to cry on. She disappeared.

She was back at the same place. She realized she could have never gone on with the new guy. She felt bad. However life had something else for her.

One day he messaged her again. Again and again. She replied this time. They kept messaging. He told her that he is coming to her to city. He came. They met. She was happy that they were good friends, again. He went back. She got busy with her life, her career. He got busy searching for a job. He got a job. He was shifting away to a land far far away. He informed her. She was happy for him. But then the messages stopped coming.

Few days later, she came to know, he is getting engaged. So that he isn’t alone, staying away, from everything. From her.

She didn’t wait. She didn’t cry. She just opened her eyes. She woke up from a deep sleep.