Ciggy-Wiggy...

Arrey nahi nahi, we're not making a Gujju version of I wanna Chiggy wiggy with you boy....(Can I hear sighs... saxy song :P)

We're talking of asli cigar...

Smoking shoking nikle re dhuaan....

Dhuaan dhuaan dekho chaaro taraf hai... dhuaan dhuaan....

*Chalo chalo Antakshari nahi chal rahi hai.... * topic par aate hain...

We're talking about the ciggy ka dhuaan. I have an acute problem with it, almost choking when someone smokes in the same room, ciggy ya beedi ya uske na-na prakaar jitne bhi hote hain...

Maybe it has to do with the fact that my respiratory system stays clogged 24 hrs, 7days and 52 weeks (ek din ka holiday toh banta hai na!) *ab calculator nikaal kar calculate karne mat baithna :P * thanks to my tonsillitis...

Once at EDI, we (Roomie Nirja and I) had invited the entire group to our room for discussion about the dramatic events, and two guys came to our room after smoking and the entire room was reeking of their smoke breath :( The door had to stay closed coz AC was on, and AC wasn't helping any... and anybody who's seen Ahmadabad ka summer will not dare suggest- Band kar dete!!! My bottle of fav Chris Adams deo got almost empty that day, room ko insanon ke layak banane mein! Nirja and I just sprayed and showered both of them with it... *chuckles*

Abhi, I had attended the school reunion party of our batch, informal of course! And one of the guys came and asked... 'Do you mind if we smoke?' (Usne poocha :O ) Idiot me said, 'Nahi, carry on!' *Bewakoof* I spent more time outside than in... Vaise party badi bore thi... but we'll crib about that some other day.

Abhi, ,mere paas un smokers ke liye ye hai...

When smoke's all that can be seen,

I cringe from within...

A voice says,'Don't u want to try?'

Pat comes the reply... Why???

I don't understand its charisma,

I got two best friends suffering from asthama :((

I don't wanna see another,

It's something you gotta stop going after!

Puffing your problems in rings,

May I ask what solution it brings...

If you're aiming for a short life,

I suggest you try a WIFE!!!

Hehe... ladkiyon maarna mat!

P.S. I am going to Indore, hamesha ki tarah... for Diwali... and uske just baad exams hai... but don't worry ji! We'll find a way to be online, alive and kicking... itni asaani se peecha nahi chootega! :P

Maximum City

Truly Maximum a city... Bombay, the city MNS (Motive Nuisance Sena) claims to be Mumbai...

Suketu Mehta has written the book brilliantly... focusing on every aspect we recognise as complete Bambaiyaa... be it the Shiv Sena and its overwhelming embarrassing influence on every Bombayite, the underworld and the constant fear the entire city lives in, the glitz and glamour of the film city, the finance capital of India, its post-riot-brutal injuries, the best-after-Scotland Yard police fo(a)rce of Bombay, the slums, the vadapao, the lack of even foot-space and yet the thousands disembarking in the city every single day, they call it sapno ka shahar...

The book is non-fiction, and we embark on the discovery of this city as the Amrikkan Desi babu lands from New York to the city he spent a part of his childhood in. The used-to-New-York author finds it difficult to face the No-city, as he describes it. Then he learns to pull strings, Bombay-style!

Suketu visits plenty of bigwigs... from Bal Thackrey to Vinod Chopra to Sanjay Dutt and even seeks audience with the Chotta Shakeel, and finally gets a phone conversation with the don after travelling to Dubai. Suketu meets gang boys, hears professional killers recounting murders, meets a girl who dances in the bars... and another,who dresses up as one... Suketu crudely observes sentiments of the injured communities of Hindus and Muslims, post '93 riots. Shiv Sainiks who claim to be saviors of the Hindus and Muslims who claim they were innocent! And Muslims who still seek revenge...

Suketu meets a police officer, Ajay, one of the only honest men left in the police force... a tough cop, tossed around like a ball at whims of seniors. He witnesses third-degree, first hand; watches the bomb blasts rocking the city, sees the police force struggling to prevent another set of major riots, watches the city that never sleeps, and even ends up co-writing the script for Mission Kashmir...

The entire description is breathtaking, the book unputdownable, the events ibid, and most importantly, confirm every impression the city has ever had on me...

The only thing that struck me as odd, was that Suketu is able to seek and obtain interviews with a huge variety of people, from small thugs to professional shooters, to politicians and even the don himself. How many strings did he have to pull to achieve it, or is it that the lure of an American writer putting their story in a Bollywood flick (as he promised them) is so strong that they're ready to move out into the open and share their lives with him...

Whatever the means, the end is an absolutely fascinating book about the city, I call Bombay... to hell with MNS!