The toothless grin is back...

...and it no longer makes me feel childlike. Alas! On the contrary it makes me realise that I am ageing. I have had some signs before, like streaks of grey, everywhere- in my head, stubble, nostrils (and I dare not go any further down-WINK WINK!) but it's only my "sans tooth" status that makes me feel really really archaic. It happened on a (not so) fine morning, coz I woke up with a toothache. As expected I ignored. Two days later I derived the formula of my life yet again-
Toothache+Carelessness*Procrastibation = Dentist => Excruciating pain.

So there I was at the dentist seat, inclined at an awkward angle of 45 degrees, with my jaw wide open and a variety of tools digging the life out of me.
My eyes still hold a vivid picture of the devil of my dentist, gritting his (not so) pearly whites and asking me all sorts of questions-
"Is it paining?" No way! It's like cookies melting into my mouth!
"How does it feel?" Heavens man! I wish it happened everyday!!
But all I did was nod in affirmative or negative. If I said anything anyway, it would all sound just the same gibberish- aa..oo..aa.a.wa...!

My tooth was decayed but strong, resolved not to leave its roots! The dentist's hand got firmer, the face more grave and his muscles more tense. All this while my dentist kept singing- "Just pulling out the filling, not your tooth" and I was like "Yeah I was born yesterday."
The ordeal went on forever. My fingernails dug valleys in my palms making some serious alterations in my love and fortune lines. (Remember Ogden Nash's This is gonna hurt a lit' bit....?)

Finally the dentist's frown blossomed into a smile. He gasped- "It's done!"
You mean done with life?? Phew!!
I gargled the blood out, felt the numbness of my swollen cheek and shelled out a heartbreaking fees. This is funny. You lose your tooth and you pay for it!

I stepped out of the clinic. The first thing I see is an old man, sans one leg, on crutches, limping his way into a barber shop. Instantly I had revelations, full Buddha style- I will grow old, lose all my faculties and eventually meet the dirt...I would have no one to look after me...I should give up my materialistic pursuits...I should zip to the Himalayas and meditate...
Looks like there is some connection between teeth and brain! Ha!

Life in a Lounge

Whenever I write anything on my blog, I am so sure that there will be a bunch of people who will be able to relate to what I say. But this time I am a bit doubtful. Tell me honestly - Do you like to wait in those long serpentine queues? Well! I do. In fact longer the queue, the better I feel.
Last week I had gone to a bank to open an FD account. (Talk about mammoth savings dude!!) So I fetch my token number and am thrilled to see that it's some 40 numbers away. I grab a seat in one corner, yawn, stretch myself and dig out a book from my bag and bury my head into it. Time just flew by and I didn't even come to know when the machine beeped my number. In fact I was so reluctant to go to the counter as I was hardly a page away from the climax of the book.

Then a couple of days back I had gone to see one of my friends at his office. He was away for lunch so I had to wait. AND I DIDN'T MIND THAT AT ALL. I just sank into the inviting arms of the leather couch that adorned their fancy lounge area. I feasted my eyes on some PYTs who passed by in their full yak-yak giggle glory. It's nice to observe people sometimes. There were so many different species at my friend's office-

The brand babes. It starts from D&G at the top and Mango in the middle and ends at Anne Klein or Nina or Hush Puppies. They make sure that you at least take a dekko at their ensemble and cajole a compliment or two too.

Then there was the ALWAYS-BUSY-BREED. No matter they are on facebook or fetching a cup of coffee or even peeing, they will always have this super busy expression pasted on their face.

Then there were the cutie love birds prancing around, some uptight bosses in designer ties and frowns, the ever so watchful guards and the bunch that keeps any office going- the coffeemakers.

Suddenly a tap on my shoulder breaks my revery and my friend greets me with a string of apologies for getting late...and in my head I am like "dude you came a bit early...I was having fun."

Then yesterday I was at my dentist's clinic. Two RCTs. OUCH! But the COUCH was o so comforting, with a Film fare in tow. Life was set! I devoured every article, all oblivion to my tooth-ache. Suddenly I was summoned. I wanted to tell- "I can wait; kindly attend the other patients" but I lethargically dragged myself from the couch and made my way to the torture chambers.

So the point that I have been trying to make for past 50 hours is that I like to wait in queues. I live my life there- thinking, reading, observing, day-dreaming...

Do you feel the same? Please let me know.

Diary Entry

My mom is talking to my nani on the phone who is schemingly hissing some fancy ideas of my marriage into her vulnerable head. I smell the rat and quietly sneak out of the house.
I must have hardly walked half a kilometer that I walk past three marriage processions on the road. How ironical! The shadi wala buildings look gorgeous, dolled up in strings of neon lights, roses and mongras. Suddenly a rocket shoots up in the sky. I crane up and witness an explosion of a thousand stars with a VIBGYOR of colors. Suddenly a smile shines on my face. I love fireworks. (No pun intended!) I guess it's only the festive vibe of weddings that can convince me into getting married!
So before I shake from my resolve I head towards Durga mandir park, my favorite get away in the evenings. I rest my bums on a bench and do my favorite thing- THINK!
The entire day replays in my mind. A lot of people since morning has tried talking marriage into my head and I love them all for their concern but I ain't convinced enough.
I think marriage is one of the most overrated institutes in our country. No matter you have a job or not, no matter you are responsible or not, if you are 25, you should be married. I don't want to sound too cynical about such a pious institute; just that I am not prepared for it yet.
What is marriage anyway? In one word, it's companionship, like they say during wedding vows- "together in health and sickness."
But for me - me, myself and I are my best companions and trust me that's not a polite term for LONER! I love my evening walks into the sunset, my quick trips to the terrace to practice my Oscar Speeches and my ever so quiet moments with my favorite books. I even go and watch movies alone and I simply love the fact that I have no one to fret and fuss over the biggest reason of war in every household- TV remote. So for me it's aloneness (solitude) than loneliness...(Gawd! there comes my masters degree in language handy!)
But I will be honest with you. No matter how much I value my privacy, I do miss a good company over the weekends. But it's more of missing a friend that a life partner!
As I keep thinking about this, I get restless and stride back home, my mind pregnant with marital thoughts (I actually wrote martial instead of marital) and I see yet another marriage procession with the groom mounting on the horseback and the Sindhi band's trumpet playing--
"yeh desh hai veer jawaano ka, albelo ka mastano ka..." just the right song to play before the veer jawaan is sold into slavery.
And if that wasn't enough, I reach home and encounter my mom.
She frowns at me and sees away- towards her dearer offspring- Sony TV, where a 64 year old Amitabh is getting married to a 34 year old Tabu and singing in the UK- Cheeni Kum hai, cheeni kum hai...
And suddenly Enrique's song plays in my mind in a truly different context-
"You can run you can hide but you can't escape..."

OM Shanti OM

It's 8:08 a.m. by the studio clock. The computer is playing Diwangi Diwangi from Om Shanti Om and here I am writing the film's reviews. Honestly I didn't want to watch the film...yeah yeah I am one of those pseudo kinds, a sucker for meaningful cinema and anti all these teenybopper pot-boilers and the usual blah blah blah...

So the breaking news of Shah Rukh's shirtless six-pack act for the first time on Indian cinema, coupled with his bulging biceps, erect nipples and rippling muscles in his much hyped "butt cracking" Darde-Disco wasn't convincing enough for me to watch the film. Neither the new nymph on the block (Deepika Padukone) had me sold over the movie. Farah tried hard by telling me on every freaky TV channel about this song in the film which is pregnant with 31 stars of the industry...but alas! I wasn't ready to budge. She even tried emotional blackmailing-
"I am 35, married to an editor who gets work from ONLY me and my films. I am pregnant with three kids, need money to bring them up, so please help me and watch my film and blah blah blah... " but sorry mate I was resolved and all I did was laugh my wicked Gabbar Singh laugh- heehaaaaaaaaaa...!

But I love my mom a lot who loves SRK a lot. And we were in the theatre watching the film.

The struggling actor(SRK) loves the beautiful star(Deepika Padukone) who loves the producer (Arjun Rampal) who decides to kill her because she stupidly tells him the most disastrous line of hindi films- main tumhare bachche ki ma ban ne wali hoon...
So the hero is dead and so is the heroine. The villian gets richer and zips to the US of America.
But picture abhi baaki hai mere dost...

SRK is reborn and so is Deepika (don't ask me why). Arjun Rampal who has been hibernating in the US all this while comes to India. SRK has flashes of the previous birth, reunites with his boodhi ma (Kiron Kher) and friend (Shreyas). He wants Arjun to pay for the heinous act of burning him and his purane janam ki heroine alive. But he can't do that alone. He needs Deepika for the same. So comes Deepika in her micro-mini-bubble-gum avtaar from Bangalore first flight! They all gang up, spook the little mickey out of Arjun Rampal by showing him the ghost of Shanti and finally he dies of a senile decay. And the whole country is 5 years old, sucks its thumb and still sleeps in its diapers and we all shall buy this crap as the biggest grosser ever.

FISH! Such brouhaha for such a yucky, pucky, constipated, dehydrated, castrated, electrocuted (and all those unmentionables) movie!! Damn!

When I was walking out of the theatre- this middle-aged aunt in front of me gasped in shock and doubt- "I think Shah Rukh's 6 pack is morphed- it's unbelievable for anyone to have a 6 pack at 42."
Are you freaking nuts?! This is all you come up with after watching the whole movie. You could believe in SRK's rebirth, Deepika's unwanted rebirth too, could also buy the fact that Deepika's spirit waited for 30 years to freak the living daylights of Arjun Rampal but you have a problem with SRK's 6 pack. I guess this shouldn't be too difficult. I mean if we can still believe that Arjun Rampal can act, we can believe anything. Wotsay!?

Main apni Favorite hoon...

says Kareena Kapoor in Jab we met and I see so many people echo the same sentiment these days. I can name three of them- Kanupriya (my colleague), Meenal (my student) and Priya (an aquaintance).
The funny filmy conversation begins with a full effervescent vibe- "You know what Lokesh- main apni favorite hoon!!!" to which I usually reply- "watched Jab we met last night?" and the obvious answer comes in affirmative and goes on to another excited one "I am so much like Kareena's character naaa?" And the rude answer in my head is- "NO! Far from it". But obviously I don't say it loud. I mean life is more beautiful when the things on the back of your mind don't come on the tip of your tongue. You know what I mean, right?

Hmm..so the question is whether I am my favorite or not?
NO! I just Hate myself...
Hate the jelly belly that I am blessed with these days...and hate it even more when I find myself doing nothing about it...and hate it the most when after cribbing about it endlessly, I find myself on the dining table with a platter full of desi-ghee ke aaloo ke parathe...haaye meri ma ka pyaar...

Hate the fact that I am growing so complacent in life...
Hate the fact that I don' have too many friends and that my weekends are o so boring...
Hate it when I don't blog often...
Hate my hunch...
Hate it when I see a dozen opportunities on television and myself without any job. Sob sob!
Hate the cribber in me who seems to be working 24 by 7...
Hate the fact that I hate so many things about myself and hate it to make it public on my blog!

Nahiiiiiiiiiiin!! My apna favorite nahiiiiiiiiiiii hoon.

Gym Smokers

This one can be a dummy guide to all the people with a huge waistline; who have been promising themselves that next will be the month to hit the gym. Wonder how one can avoid exercising especially when your exterior challenges the fact that monkeys have been our ancestors.
Gym is a small world where you have all kind of items dropping in and I call them different kind of Gym Smokers each belonging to a specific category.

The Gluttonous Lion
He is huge, with breasts putting Pamela Anderson’s to shame. He has a huge appetite both for food and weights.
He loads the heaviest dumbbells in the bar, sees around proudly, making sure he catches everyone’s (read every girl’s) attention. If he fails, then wait and watch. He roars like a true Lion at every repetition and by the time it is the tenth one, everything brittle around is cracked, the earth shaken and every eye gawks at him.

All fart no shit
He comes all branded from tip to toe. A Fila cap, a Nike tee, Puma lowers and a pair of Reebok sneakers. Not to forget the accessories- an Adidas bottle and Lotto head and wrist bands. He walks either like Salmaan or Saif dropping his shoulders up and down, in perfect rhythm with every step. He can also be called the Gluttonous Lion wannabe. He too loads the heaviest weight in the bar. He holds the bar, brings all his focus, grits his teeth, tenses his brows, draws the last ounce of strength gushing from every organ of his body and ends up inching the bar for a split of a second. He feels a vain sense of achievement. He does it everyday unaware of the chuckles, he evokes all around. Don’t blame him. Blame the extra mass he is blessed with and he just wants to throw around some weight. Pun intended!

Gym Virgins
He is new to the world; few days or maybe a week old. He looks around naively and continues to wow at practically everyone and everything around. He dreads even the slightest weight. His hands shake terribly during a work out. He is everyone’s pushover. He will very humbly give you way if you both happen to be on the same machine. He trusts everyone and sundry. You ask him to lift weight with his legs to puff his biceps and he would actually buy that.

The Obnoxious Roadside Romeo
Comes for the babes in and around the gym. Flexes his muscles against his skintight tee, ogles at all the babes, hawk eyed, and passes a few lewd comments. He is entertained, as he knows the gym instructor’s deep dark secrets.

The Morose Member
Sluggish, sagging shoulders and is always complaining about this perennial pain either in the back or neck or some part of the body. He has some genius reasons to avoid his exercise
- It’s too crowded today…
- I have an appointment…
- I didn’t have a proper meal today…
- I don’t know but there is a slight pain in my upper back and so and so forth.
He crawls in and shoots out of the gym. He is constantly looking at the clock.

Paisa Wasool Kinds
He has a different interpretation to the saying- all good things come in small packages. Perhaps that’s the reason he originally thought the gym would cost less than half of what it actually does. And now for the money he shells out on the gym, he is compelled to think that gymming is really not a very good thing!
Works out rigorously for every part- chest, shoulders, legs, arms, back, head, fingers, hair, nails and that too every freaky day. Wants to make every dime he spends worth it. Has been known to even carry home, dumbbells, CDs and even water bottles.

So which category do you think you fit into?

O' Fish

I am an RJ. People ask me about my most embarrassing moment on air and I always say- my mouth- every time I open it, I am embarrassed to pieces!

I remember many moons ago, I used to work for an Asian radio station in Dubai. There are more dos and don'ts in Dubai radio stations. So Lord Rama and Krishna are struck out of your dictionary, saying "dude" and "babe" is blasphemous and most of all nothing is sexy in Dubai, everything is just beautiful.

Now in such a scene, imagine someone say the F letter word on air!! No points for guessing, it was yours truly who did the honours!

I had to give away tickets of the movie called Aksar. Remember one of those first few crooning glories of Himesh Reshamiya- Jhalak Dikhla Ja and Lagi Lagi Lagi! That one.

I anyway speak a bit fast, so with full enthusiasm I scream "your chance to win couple tickets of Aksar."

Now you might think where is the catch?

If you say the same line in my style and pace, you will get it-
"tickets of Aksar...ticketsof--Aksar...ticketsa F-A-K-S-A-R"

But come to think of the cast of the movie, it wasn't much of a faux pas. I mean what would you call a movie that casts Emraan Hashmi and Udita Goswami. Teehee!!

Nokia didn't help...

in connecting people, yet again.

Last evening, I was getting too irritated and bored so I thought I would call my friends and have a chat with them and make myself feel better.

My first call went to one of my students who is more of a friend now than a student, Saransh. I called him up because I usualy don't call him up and he is the one who always takes the initiative and speaks to me in his full enthu-cutlet style "hiiiii sir, longgg timeeee..." So I thought I would return all his calls. I punched the number with full gusto. The bell rang. He answered and said-
"Sir I am driving right now, will call you later!"

Alas!

My next dial was to my best friend, Amit. He has been blessed with a baby girl and I so wanted to ask him about her, if he had christened her and tell him all the names that I had thought for her. He answered my call and responded to my volley of questions with restrained monosyllabic answers. The little Sherlock Holmes in me prompted that he was busy and the usual- "will call you later" ended the call.

Next I called up one of my very good friends, Neelu. She can be outrageously cynical sometimes and cracks jokes that she only finds funny but she is a darling anyway (and sometimes proofreads my blog too). And the fact that I can be just myself with her makes her one of my most special friends. Her phone rang and rang and rang and is still ringing.

Manhar was taking his mom to the dentist.
Sid was unavailable.
Sushma's phone was out of range.
And the usual- the vodafone you are trying to reach is currently busy. Please call after some time.

Phew! After such a marathon, I just curled up with a bowl of tomato soup and a book, the title of which (funnily) reads-

ALMOST SINGLE.

Do I need say more?

Fun is not coming!

What to do?

Humility...

is like Tyrannosaurus Rex...Extinct!

Like I promised in my last post that I would share my thoughts on humility, so here I am keeping my words. (Ain't that a smart way to make you read my last post?)

Humility is not traveling by bus when you can drive your Mercedes. It's so related to our inflated egos, self-importance and self-obsession.

Imagine the enormity and the expanse of this universe? So many galaxies...one of them is ours- The Milky way which comprises of the solar system. Nine planets. Then the Earth. So many countries. One of them- India. So many states, one of them is Delhi. So many places in Delhi, CP is just one of them. So many offices in CP, Fever 104 office is just one of them. So many rooms in the office, on air studio is just one of them. Millions and zillions of living things (micro-organisms) in this studio and I am just one of them.

Come to think of it...in comparison to such a vast cosmos...I am such a petty, measly of a being...so paltry. Not that I am saying I am worthless but the whole hue and cry of "nobody-takes-me-seriously", "my-views-mean-the-most", "no-body-asked-me-for-my-opinion", "am-i-not-important?" seems so worthless.
Phew! Looks like this "me, myself and I" world is a much bigger world than any world in the world! (And that's like 4 worlds in the last sentence! Tehee!)

And haven't we had enough already? Free sunshine, free water, free air...for donkey's years. We have been hogging like gluttonous pigs man. Time to thank God. It's pay back time now. Remember the thought of the day that you so proudly said in the school morning assembly--Service to mankind is service to God.

So no matter your boss screams at you, your siblings/relatives cheat you, your beloved ditches you, your colleagues scheme against you, just be kind to them, pray for them and serve them.
That I believe is the ideal definition of Humility.

Now you know why I paralleled Humility to Tyrannosaurus Rex?

Picture this

You are on the pot.
The pot in the office loo to be more precise, in the busiest hour of the day.

You are happily crapping.
Uuuuhhh.
U-u-u-hhhhhh.
Pitter. Putter. Pooh. Bamb. Crash. Boom.
ploP! plOP! PLOP!
Sigh!
Relieved.
You look around. There is no tissue. The sprinkler's handle is broken. No source of water.
What do you do?
Any solutions?
I am still waiting!
Phew.

(I)(M)portant

Okay in the title of this post I was trying to write " I am important" in a creative sort of way but now when I read it, it sounds like something else only, if you know what I mean. (Okay now your eyes move to the title...read it? Smiled? Now read on!)

This had been riding on my mind for a very long time and I thought I would better get this outta my system- you know, this intriguing phenomenon of "self importance". Not sounding too judgemental about the whole issue, I wouldn't categorise it as good or bad coz, if on one hand, I find this "I-am-important" thingy to be really juvenile and strange, on the other hand, strangely enough, I kind of aspire to be in the same bracket of people, (well sometimes at least).

When I look around me, I find so many people with such mammoth egos. They walk with a sense of pride, look at me as if I was the most trivial thing to happen to this planet and speak to me as if doing me a favour. It's almost like a cartoon film; Tom walking in full inflated glory, takes giant-thunderous steps, finds little Jerry on its way, scoops Jerry in its gigantic palm and smashes it out of the window.

I am so itched to name so many people right now, in my office, my friends, my family. But my big mouth always lands me in trouble so I better club them all in safe types.

1. I-am-a-dude. The whole facade of I-am-a-dude is actually quite a facade. They speak in pseudo deep baritone voice, mostly with a twang in their accent and are practically deaf to whatever you have to say. It's really funny. You say something. They behave as if they didn't hear. Two moments later they say exactly the same thing and give their shark smile, all smug, revelling in some stupid vain glory. And you are like- "WOW! how original dude".

They also crack some stupid jokes and laugh out loudest and pulls a long face if you try your hand at humour.

2. Screamers. This type is always screaming. I guess they were born screaming, instead of crying.The psyche is that people would take me more seriously if I screamed the loudest (yeah only if frequency was directly propotinal to respect). I remember one of my ex-bosses. Every time I craned my head to see if my devil of a boss was away, I always found this water-melon of a face, full red with rage shouting into the phone. The funny bit was that I couldn't hear anything through his glass cabin so all I saw were stretched muscles wildly mating with frowns on his face and his mouth going yak-yak-yak, like a mime-comedy show.

3. Don't-mess-with-me-types. It's a cross between Abhishek Bachchan's looks, Amitabh's walk, Ajay Devgan's intensity and Himesh Reshamiya's frown. Ah! Quite a breed! They walk like a storm, gaze set at the horizon. (I so wanna throw a banana peel in their way.) If you come in their way, you might be just crushed. So watch out! Nobody exists for them. They don't talk to any small fry and for them everyone around is a small fry, which means they prefer to keep mum most of the times. If you muster up all your courage and dare strike a conversation with them, the only reply you get is a "Umm.." or a deep disgusted sigh that subtly says- "you little nonentity, back you off".

There are so many other types too, like look-at-my-brands types, I-am-so-fair-charitable-generous kinds and many others. And suddenly I can see so many names flashing in my mind who are shining examples of all these types but diplomacy is such an under-rated virtue for me. So there!

And no matter you are a cog in the wheel or a top-notch boss, the "self-importance" bug thrives practically everywhere.

Funnily this post has made me think about humilty big time. Will discuss that in my next post. (Ooo...that sounds like a teaser!) Till then me, myself and I (winks) take your leave.

It would not come

My apologies for stealing the title of my post from my most favorite singer's song- Alanis Morissette's- It would not come. In fact it was her song and my o-so "happening" weekend, that prompted me to write this post!

On the weekend, my vegetable avatar disgusts the hell out of me and I feel very grumpy and I keep telling my mom; "life has turned into a wooden duck, there is no excitement, it's so lacklustre and arid...and there is something amiss...and it feels... like- "it" would never come...

So no matter I frantically browse TV channels,
It would not come.
I go and shop the world,
It would not come.
I listen to my favorite tune on radio,
Smoke my muscles in the gym,
Jog my guts out,
Feast my eyes on some breath-taking beauties on TV(hush when mom is away)
It would not come.
Go on a Drive,
Park at a mall,
An amusement park,
Or my favorite food joint,
Gorge and gulp,
Lick and slurp,
Fart and burp,
It would still not come.
I throw a party,
Or go to one,
Letch and lust,
Boob and bust,
I come home and realise-
It would not come.

If I were sexy and seductive,
Clever and manipulative,
And everything superlative...
It would still not come.

If I were naive, vulnerable,
A door mat, a push over,
Totally submissive,
It would still not come.

I tried laughing, screaming, crying...
Alas! "It" would STILL not come.

LD meets SRK K Jo

Can I be honest? I met up with Shah Rukh Khan on the last weekend and I wasn't really excited as you would expect me to be! No I am not one of those pseudo-intellects who looks down upon hindi films and raises an ignorant/disgusted brow at the mention of all the big stars. On the contrary I thrive on hindi films and meeting my favorite star would surely tickle me pink. But Shah Rukh isn't too top on my list, so there! In fact I like Karan Johar more and was grinning from ear to ear when I met him along with SRK.

We were parked outside one of the halls of The Taj, Delhi, near the escalators. Sudeenly there was an eerie hush, a grave silence coz people had sniffed SRK's presence. He was coming down the escalators with a band of punters tailing behind. He was dressed in a white shirt with top two buttons undone revealing his newly attained cleavage :). (Shouldn't he have opened the last two buttons to flaunt his much talked about 6 pack?) He wore a black pair of trousers and his long hair were gelled and tied in a tiny pony. He wore black shades. (Can never figure this out why these stars sport shades indoors?) I heard people take deep sighs, sensed them shake in their boots and go- "O-my-gawd!"

I didn't feel anything o-my-gawd-ish about SRK. To me he appeared like a distorted Indian version of Michael Jackson. Indeed- O-my-gawd!!

His cheeks were sunken, his waist giving competition to Shilpa Shetty's and he had a slight hunch. He looked so plastic that I felt his skin would peel off any moment like plaster from an old, dilapitated building's wall.


But I have to give him due credit for his qucik wit. The man shows amazing spontaneity and can never let anyone have an upper hand in the battle of wits. Though he suffers from verbal diarrohea. It's like you ask him a question, catch a power nap, go for a walk, come back and he would still be giving you the answer of the same question that you asked him ages ago. Phew! You have no clue during the interview how many times I must have said- "got it due...can we move on now...?" I am sure SRK can never be a jock on my station- Fever 104, less talk more music, teehee!

On the other hand, I was thrilled to meet Karan Johar. Effeminate. Homo. Pancy. Sissy. None of this matters. What matters is the fact that he comes across as a great human being. There are very few people who indulge in self-depricatory humour (genuinely) and he is the epitome of the same. (And if I dare say I relate to him on this so so much).
He sported a black blazer with a very neat white shirt. He is much taller than I expected him to be and much broader too. He looked much more alive in sharp contrast with the doddering SRK. Most of all, he gave a fantastic interview. My regard for him has gone much higher now.

One problem he shares with SRK is that he too talks too much. They just go on their spree. One thought put in 10 sentences. It's like never ending man, like my intelligence doubted big time. I can grasp things in one go dude! Phew!!

So that's that. The SRK-K Jo meeting. I am sure the world would give a right arm to rub shoulders and share space with them. And I had a hearty half an hour chat with the two of them. It pays to be an RJ sometimes, eh?

Crush

I am smiling my Shark smile right now. At 5 in the morning people say their choicest of prayers and here I am blogging about my latest crush(es). I know it's a bit juvenile to have crushes now, but who said I have grown up!! Moreover I feel like a school kid everyday. And for Christ's sake I am just 27 not a 60 year old hag.

Now that's quite an explanation for me having crushes! Moving on...

Number One.

Deepika Padukone. Boy aint she Drop Dead Gorgeous? A perfect atheletic body with well shaped legs (and I dare not go any further up coz it's a family blog afterall- ) and a million bucks smile. And despite being a model, she can TALK and to top it all, she can talk SENSE! Ah! too HOT to handle man! (Why the heck is she romancing a man double his age? SRK- you lucky a**! I wish I had friends like Farah Khan and Karan Johar! Alas! The J Loks cringes big time.)

Number Two.

Sunidhi Chauhan. My all time favourite. She is such a bundle of talent man. I have had the privilge to interview her. She is quite mad in many ways. She is a bit brash, a bit immodest and such an attention seeker and yet makes no bones about it. No pretence. No facade. Maybe that's what I love the most about her. She is quite a shinning example of "what you see is what you get!"

And when she performs on stage- boy she is a LIVEWIRE. She gives a completely new dimension to every tune that she sings.

Number Three.

Advaita Kala. Now who the hell is she? Well if you read, you would know her. She is the author of Almost Single. I first heard her interview on my friend Ginnie's show (on radio) and I was completely bowled over by her wit. She comes up with wise cracks at a drop of a hat. And then I saw her on NDTV. She looks pretty. She is plump but - pleasantly plump, and pretty too. Her book is such a reflection of the person that she comes across on TV/Radio. Her non-chalant way of writing had me sold over her. Almost Single- highly recommended.

So that's that! Now you know my lady will be quite a cross between Deepika, Sunidhi and Advaita. Simple recipe- A dough of Deepika's beauty with a dash of Sunidhi's talent and a bowl-full of Advaita's wit and lo! Lokesh's Lady is ready!

So here I am on my wild goose chase on the little Chimera that I have just created. Hope it doesn't leave me singing like Akshay Khanna in his debut movie-

"I am a Bachelor, akela hoon bimaar hoon..."

Diary Entry

Phew! It's been a long day and the funny bit is that it aint over yet!! The day started at 4 in the morning (11th October) and let me add, not on a very pleasant note. The office cab driver decided to snore a little longer with the office gaurd to give him company! (Whoaaa! That is scandalising- the gaurd and the driver sleeping together- WINKS!) (For all those, who don't know- I do the breakfast show on Fever 104, Delhi and I gotta reach the office by 5 in the morning and the office cab comes to pick me up!)

So there I was at the road looking for the cab and the driver. I wait, wait and wait some more and when there is no sign of him for good 15 minutes, I decide to call the office gaurd up and ask about the driver's whereabouts. The gaurd responds after an eternity, calls the driver up, wakes him up, the driver brushes his teeth, sits on the pot and finally appears after ONE fregging hour. Boy he has some luxury I tell you!

Damn! Can you beat this- I was left high and dry for 60 minutes on the street! (I could say one hour too- but 60 is always greater than 1, you see).

And the day hasn't ended yet. I had work throughout the day, a press conference to attend in the evening and finally I had to record an interview with AR Rahman in the night. He is quite a night person, you see, and prefers to compose, sing, record and do a whole lot of obvious things only in the night. ;) So that explains the interview in the night!

So the official lark of Fever 104 (that's me) meets the musical NIGHT-ingale. (I was so itched to write OWL, but that sounds a bit derogatory for a genius like him.) The interview went pretty fine without any major faux pas. (You can actually catch the excerpts of the same in the morning between 10-11 am- 12th Oct 07).

But to be honest, I was a bit nervous. Actually I am usually not nervous, coz I love people and enjoy talking to them and it doesn't really matter much to me if I am talking to Amitabh/Rahman or any big shot. I respect them for what they are and their repertoire of skills and work but their stature doesn't shake me in my boots. It's like probing a bit more into their body of work and having fun, like I would have a buddy chat with my siblings or friends.

But this time I was nervous coz right across me, I could see a collage of faces and palms sticking on the studio glass; the CEO, the station head, the programing head, my producers, the music manager, the other jocks, the engineer, the coffee maker; you name it and I had it- EVERYONE, breathing down my spine, looking at me hawk-eyed. Despite my layers of clothing, I felt stark naked!

Today I understood the real meaning of the proverbial "Sword of Damocles". AR Rahman was my meal and my colleagues were daggers of all shapes and sizes, dangling on my head. :)

Anyway, the interview was pretty neat. I am quite satisfied with my performance, considering the pressure cooker that I had become then. And now I am just three hours away from my show and preparing for the same! Just stole a few moments to post this happening day of my life, which hasn't ended yet.

My mind is actually throbbing with calculations right now and not that I scored a whopping in my Mathematics exam, but from 4 in the morning (11th Oct 07) to 11 in the morning (12th Oct 2007), it makes some 31 odd hours and I worked at a stretch!

ARE MY BOSSES LISTENING?

zzzzzzz....

Dancing Woes

Last weekend, I was home, (yeah, like most of the weekends). My cousin called me up- in an all happy-party-weekend mood. She threw the unwanted question- "What plans for the weekend, dude?"

And before I could think- I excitedly quipped- "I will watch Nach Baliye and Jhalak Dikhla Ja today." She hung up on me the next moment and I realised I seriously needed some life.

Seriously yaar, this has been happening over a period of time- when the world is out to party on the weekend, I behave like a kaddu or a tamatar and vegetate away to glory at my home. I so feel like a stick in the mud watching the world go by. (And you thought RJs had the most exciting lives, eh?)

Anyway so there I was, in my glorious couch potato avtaar, glued to television, watching the two dance shows. It's pretty funny that things that interested me at some recent point of life hardly impress me these days. These two shows being no exception!! (The hysterical age-phobic Lokesh in me screams- AM I AGEING that I have become so critical?)


My first bone.
Anchors and Script Writers.

"Apne husn ka jalwa aur nach ki thirkan pesh karne aa rahi hai agli jodi..." BURP!!
"Hosh uda De apke baar baar- jodi number chaar" FART!!
"Ada hai nirali, mizaz hai dil-phek- jodi number ek" PUKE!

Gaush I might just throw up with such winsome original rhymes!
I mean who on Earth ever speaks like this these days? We have been hammering the importance of realistic cinema, real people and all that jazz, and here we are in a
REAL-ity show with such killer lines!

And can someone please kill the teleprompter? Every time the anchor’s eyes dance from right to left, struggling to read from the teleprompter, there seems to be a slight squint in his/her eyes and I wonder- “What’s wrong dude?”

The worst example of the same is Tina of Nach Baliye fame. She goes-
“Aur apni favourite. (Pause) Jodi ko jitane ke liye. (Longer Pause) Message kariye. (Pause in which you can easily catch your zzzzz.). Is she related to Mr. Atal Bihari Vajypayee by any chance?



My Second Bone.
The participants.

They come. They perform. And they cry. Even before the judges speak a word, the participants are ready with a string of explanations- toe fracture, lack of time, busy schedules and sundry. And if nothing works, the salty Niagra falls does the trick!!

In fact this gives me a little insight into the human psyche. Aint we all are so defensive in our nature right from the begining? Homework nahi kiya- ghar mein shadi thi, office late pahuche- traffic jam tha, kaam nahi hua- team members inefficient hain. Why can't we just calmly listen to criticism and own up to our mistakes?

My third Bone.
SMS.

Agar aap chahte hai apni favourite jodi ke liye vote karna toh SMS kijiye- blah blah MTNL lines wale blah blah, Reliance wale ...blah blah...Airtel Wale...blah blah...
Boy!! Some bombardment of an information man! And how can they ever expect us to spend our hard earned bucks on these celebrities? I mean they hog all the limelight, they walk away with a whopping of lakh rupees of prize money, they get to drive the jazziest car on display and here we are struggling to make our ends meet!
Grrr....PHEW!

(Waise steaming a little secret here- I did SMS once for Shweta Salve when she was competing with Mona Singh in Jhalak Dikhla Ja. And she lost the show after that! :) So there!)

Well after such a nasty post on these shows, I am kind of regretting!
I mean I will be watching the same shows again the next weekend to fill the long lonely hours of my life! SIGH!!

The little devil in me once again mocks at me- "You little loser"
Gawd this little devil can sometimes be a real pain in...(you know where, right?!)

First blog!

I can so very well put my bucks on this. One in every three bloggers (what the hec, practically every blogger) who starts a new blog gives it a zillion thoughts on how to make THAT FIRST blog look KICK ARSE! A poem, a path breaking thought, a philosophical note on life, love and blah, a breaking news and so on and so forth.

I faced the same dilemma- after many anxiety ridden moments, I came with a gem! Post JUST THAT- "your inability to think of something superb for your first post."

Howzat? What? Has someone already written the same thing on his/her first blog? OUCH!
Toh kya likhu? Mar hi dalo...

Ok now I can understand your situation- donno what to comment?

Hello- how about telling me about those precious moments just before your first post?

Phew! Finally I wrote my first post!!!!!!!!!!

Too relieved!

SIGH!!