When we fell for Paris...

“We are so lucky to be here (Paris), I mean how many people have seen this in real? (*According to Wikipedia 45 million every year)”; “I like Europe because there is a great degree of respect given to women, plus they can wear anything or nothing”; “Tu mereko judge karne aaya hai ya Paris ghumne ? Dude, Do you see a ‘born to lose’ tattoo across my chest?”; “Tell me one direction where you don’t see a hot chick (*I say vertically upwards and the joke is on me)”; “Paris has a latent soul I tell you, that’s been greatly missing in other European cities (*apparently he has seen only two European places one being Paris and other being some obscure Swiss village)”; “We are absolutely fucking (silent)free tomorrow!!”(* on being asked by a French girl about his plans); “I like French music helluva lot, I eat, live and die for it” (on being asked by the same French girl about his music taste, but I guess he has heard only one French song his whole life, that too during an official French language class) …

Partly because he knows Francais (French) and mostly because he is my Wingie back college, I planned a trip to Paris with him. No, this whole story is not about him and his queer adventures, come on I am not that useless and irksome. I have just used him as a fucking tool so that people can laugh a little. Yes mortals enjoy sarcasm and scoffing. But, seriously I read somewhere “Though sarcasm is a kind of wit but of the cheapest kind”. And I say “Kindly fuck off” to the person who said these lines. I mean its pure fucking fun ain’t it? aye?

I just told you what this applesauce story is not about, I think my job is done (*as if you are paying me for this). Not even one page long, you are thinking what the fuck! I argue back by saying I am being very fucking honest with all you people because many legendary authors don’t tell you so easily what their book is NOT about. They just keep writing pages, flurrying, misleading fucking brats who try their level best to finish their first ever novel cover to cover. But everyone knows that the brats have read Playboys, Penthouse, other Desi magazines (*I refrain from mentioning their names here, it makes my article chinchy ) cover to cover, line by line, word by word, between lines, between sheets, over the sheets, inside out, audio mode, visual mode and whatever fucking possible way you can imagine in your wildest of dreams. I ask why these magazines ain’t considered as a cussing piece of literature shit, they seem pretty fucking honest and straight to me. Strange are people.

On Metro Train to St. Remy, around 11pm

Ok, I see a 5’ 7” long, blonde, blue eyed, about 20 years old girl standing in front of me. She is wearing a transparent white shirt (*but I know you are rather more interested in what’s beneath it), knee length black skirt and some fucking whore like black see-through stockings on her legs. I can see bruises on her legs, maybe she got them from her last customer or maybe she is the Catwoman. I fallaciously think that she hopes that these stockings will get her laid and I guess she is pretty fucking aright. I would fuck her and I know you would too. For that matter I would fuck anyone right now because I haven’t till now and I am 21. But again, I don’t think any chick worries about getting laid more than she worries about Om getting reincarnated in Kahaani Ghar Ghar ki? Not worrying about getting laid is the only area where they score heavily over men (*because an average male spends more than half of the office time per week in worrying about it) and I think it’s some consolation they got from God when he took their (females’) brains and exchanged the brains for a few pints of Bavarian beer, a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and sex with some angel or whatever played the role of holy prostitute at that time (*pardon the cruelty of language for I am follower of St. Richard Dawkins).

She looks at me and I look back at her, then suddenly I look in some other direction just to make sure that it isn’t just a fucking coincidence, but it’s not. Then I think Oh maybe she is looking at the bald scumbag sitting beside though chances of that are minimal. I again look at her and she grins and I think to myself it’s my lucky day though after 21 years of useless chickenshit life. But yet again ‘she’ proves me wrong, the bloody bald guy (*about her biological father’s age and is uglier than Hugh Jackman) asks her something possibly to entice her into a dirty conversation and she seems very fascinated maybe she is a whore after all (*I was never sure). Not to forget the dude (my wingie) is also standing there rock solid. I look at him and I laugh. I go into my visual mode and remember how earlier today he took a pee in the bushes present to the sides Avenue Des Champs-Elysees. I even clicked a picture of him committing that flagitious crime. I mean it’s not a big deal in India. There you can shit anywhere in the streets nobody cares but you can’t kiss in the streets, the case is exactly the opposite in Europe. The dude seems to have to a good time standing to the proximity of the whore and why he wouldn’t. He looks at me and moves his eyeballs and head to point towards the whore’s shoulder touching his shoulder because the train is too crowded. I know it’s the happiest moment of his pretty dreary life.

Train stops at a station, the bald guy and few other passengers leave. Their departure leads to a happening that’s quite unfavourable for me and quite favourable for the dude. Now the dude and the whore are sitting in front of me, beside each other and what the fuck! They start talking too. I pretend I am not looking at them, I must admit that dude has for first time in 3 years gained some respect in my eyes. I am observing her in a clandestine way, I like the way she smiles, and ‘She is like the wind’ comes up on my iPod. But then the dude ruins the moment by asking me something, I remove my one of earphones and try to listen to what the fuck he is trying to say. I want to say “You talkin’ to me?” but I don’t, he shouts, “In which university are you in?” I say “I don’t know” just to shut him up and plug my earphone back again. I don’t know what has changed in the past few minutes but I have developed a strange attraction towards her, I won’t talk shit about her from this point onwards. I think just because the dude has an upper hand that’s why I am feeling this firm urge of talking to her, knowing her, taking her to Austrian Alps, then sit naked by the fireplace, drink Sangria, probably paint her and then to forget myself. We can live happily and make lotta children.

“So what all places did you see today?” she asks me, I don’t have any words. Suddenly “Where do you go to my lovely” comes up on iPod, though the song is so beautiful and makes you fall in love in with Paris every time you hear it, I still remove my earphones and try to answer her. “Hmm…Louvre Museum, then took a boat tour on Seine river and clicked few pictures”, she replies “That’s lovely did you go to Notre dame too?”, “No but we will surely”. Then the dude interjects and starts asking her about India, “Do you know the Taj Mahal? It’s one of the Seven Wonders of the World like the Eiffel tower, but it’s not a tower”, she answers smilingly “Yes I know, I have been there”, the dude adds “I have been there too, actually I go there every summers and take a picture with Taj in the background. You wanna see it?”

I am listening to “Tiny Dancer” now, I periodically look at both of them and smile just show that I am very cool with dude doing all the talking and I don’t care if a stranger girl wants talk to me. I am acting as if it happens to me every day except for the fact that it doesn’t and I don’t remove my earphones and keep listening to the songs. “Lisztomania” comes up and I remember that Phoenix is a French band and currently my favourite too. Maybe because of the love for Phoenix I ask her “There is this new French band called Phoenix do you know about their upcoming concert?” She says “I know them, but they talk in English” she meant they sing. I say “Yes they won the Grammy awards this year and they are fairly cool”, she replies “I haven’t heard them but one of my cousin is friends with them, and sorry I don’t know about their upcoming concerts” I love the way she speaks English, it’s like a baby talking with lollipop in his mouth. She makes me mad.

Dude comes between us again and starts talking like the RJs of the cheesy Radio stations of Kanpur city. She then asks us “What plans you have for tomorrow?” the dude replies forthwith “We are absolutely free!!” For a split second, I too think that she’s gonna ask us to come out with her, like what happens in the movies after all this is Paris not Kanpur. But, thank god she doesn’t for it would have been very difficult to handle over-excited dude if she had asked. Instead she writes down names of some places on a piece of paper and suggests the dude to visit them. I feel ecstatic.

I lean back and put my earphones on again. I try to see outside, I can see few hazy street lights glowing and the lonely crystal drops of rain on my window pane. "The Only Living boy in New York" plays in the background...

*THIS IS A PURE WORK OF FICTION. NOTHING LIKE THIS EVER HAPPENED AND NEVER WILL.AMEN.

Muenchen Mag Dich

Somewhere in Europe, precisely Munich, Germany.

Many a times I had thought of writing about my journey from India to Deutschland but never really took this seriously till one very guten day. This Voyage has been interesting and pure fun. Maybe it is exactly what I wanted plus (minus) a lot more covariation effects, but now asking for more simply feels so covetous.I mean I am not like those geekiest nerdy pussies (American English meaning intended) who keep crying even when they get 98 on 100. I hate ‘em suckiest losers's bitches. Never mind, now it is the good time; well time was always good but I don’t know this time-zone feels so fine. One thing leading to another and this is what casacade called life is; full of small coincidences, few lovely faces, good food, good music, sleep and NOTHING else. Everything is so random. But more you try to find out what the purpose of life is the more confuse d you are, so I will not waste much of your time, just a little. You wake up one day and you don’t know how a very small object in this wild universe that doesn’t matter at all in the long run can make you feel so happy or unhappy. The dumbest thing is that we all are so stupid to cry for things. But again these small things (can be people sometimes) are what every moment is all about and I am not Gandhi I get angry when someone(read chicks) calls me ugly, or when I get low grades ( yes I am very serious this time, mommy) or when India loses to Bangladesh or when...ok leave it.

So coming back to this very momentous day, this was my first day at the Der Universitat Muenchen (University of Munich). Prof Dr. Eva (*she’s my angel, don’t worry I will explain everything) told me to be at the entrance of Psychology and Psychiatry Department by 8:30 am and so I was there sharp as the tips used in electron microscopes for shuffling atoms around individually, metaphorically speaking of course. The wind was very cold as moon and dry as IITK but, I was feeling restless and nervous as a Schizophreniac paranoid delusioned patient. I entered from the main gate and what I saw was what I had expected to, a bunch of doctors, running wearing their lab coats like the way the coolies run on New Delhi railway station but come on..desi coolies are way cooler. The feeling in the room was similar to the NewDelhi station to say the least. And then the really Big Kongress (meeting) of all the rich doctors started. It was in a big library containing all the similar looking books, you know what is being talked about here. Those books that no one has ever read and if a child asks his father, "papa why these all books look the same?" his dad would answer that they are different edition of the same book by his favourite fucking author. But the truth is that they are just kept there to make worthless junkies feel miserable about their inane multidirectional life. Fucks feel like they could have choosen a different path all together by spending their time reading these fucking books while actually they spent it scoring, fucking and doing nothing.

Surprisingly I was also invited to the Kongress, just as a new member( I felt like newbie of Scrubs) of the department. Okay, the Big Boss started asking the doctors something in German which I didn’t understand even a word. I say this because for past one week I was trying to learn german when I could have utilised that time doing something productive something like facebooking. Anyways, I guess he was inquiring what the cuss they all did during the past week or maybe whom they did. Still I was pretending hard to look serious & that I understood everything that was being talked about, few times even faked some laughs. Hahaha…guten..shit…that word goes with everything and then...

Yes this was it, the very moment which has inspired me to write this piece of story that might change lives of many people of the coming generations. Seriously this massive it is, I know you all will thank me in the end. Actually I mean my life and my progeny’s given I am productive enough. It goes like this, Prof Eva stood up and introduced me to approx 50 big doctors, big as in age, so I assumed they know a lot more than me about anything but that could have also been possible if they were younger. They all welcomed me by slowly tapping the round table around which they were sitting. It was a moment of pure joy. I never had achieved such great high in my life. I don’t know but it was AWESOME. At that moment an immense respect for the German people was born inside my heart and a new inspiration to work with 100 % on my project arose. You know back in India no professor or doctor would ever welcome a naïve baby boy like me by beating their desks or anyother thing. But they did, yes they did and nothing was ever the same....

cont…

N for Nikhil.

A Naive, novice, nihilist niggling numero uno nestling,nowadays not narrow-minded though nonchalant who needs name .Nevertheless noxious notions notwithstanding the nonsensical nondescript nucleus of neck of the nature are native to his nomadic noggin. A noticeably nonpareil, nonconformist, he is nudging every norm, nurturing his nous to notch a niche for himself. By negating neurotic,niggardly,nauseating narcissists, who narrate nation’s nugatory,notorious news he’s navigating into nacreous nuances of nature.

An Evening That Changed My Life-1

3.5 years have passed now and still no night goes by when I don't remember that ghastly incident (exaggeration) or in simpler words it has left its 'indelible imprints in the tortuous furrows of my hippocampus'.After giving the entrance examination of some colleges, we all school friends finally met at PVR Saket after quite a long time. Oh! Those days of yore... hell I don't miss them that much but the present ain’t good either. Real life sucks man|Fuckin' BSBE labs|The cheesy anthropods|The wannabe droogs who take all the shite preposterous facebook quizzes,thinking that one who dies with maximum number of quizzes win|The smell of the oil that BSBE lab Chick uses|Huggu's hairdos|Phony maggus|Fat-bottomed local chicks wearing cheap tight jeans|Kurt Pussy Cobain|A.K.K's accent|

Coming back to that promiscuous bitchy evening, which seemed really nice, had the air of satiation blowing, everyone was grinning, touching each other in a chutiyatic way, horsing around. Eternal shenanigans. We had planned to watch one last movie together as it was the last time we could, cause' we were going back to the places of our inception.

So,the alokik 'Alok' one of my good old friends went to get the tickets only to find an infinitely long queue. He has all the qualities of being the ideal state of a student. Hardworking, tenacious, honest, religious and no sex or drug addict. From childhood he has a dream of being the politically correct politician which seems like a paradox.

Anyways while I was bird watching with other fellows, out of nowhere I heard a hullaballoo. And immediately as the image of what was happening formed on my retina, I felt like I had balls in my mouth, so asphyxiated.

An Evening That changed My Life-2

An aphrodisiac, mid twenties typical Delhi chick was crying as if someone raped her ruthlessly and didn’t even has the common courtesy to use condoms. And the worst part-that alleged someone was... ‘Alok’ though she didn’t say he raped her. She was repeatedly yelling “How dare you pinch my ass, you son of a bitch!” .And I was repeatedly yelling to myself “Calm down she’s just blowing things out of proportion like all women do”. But still we had to pacify her.

We approached her and pleaded her to take it easy and explain what actually happened but she was like ‘just fuck off I work with NDTV, your friend has molested me and I will put him behind the bars’ and before we could do anything came the low blow, unlike in movies where police never arrives on time here it was immaculate, 3 police constables arrived in no time and took over. They were acting like they knew exactly what had happened to the nth place of decimal, consequently didn’t even bother listening to us. While few minutes ago they were sitting miles away spitting pan and gossiping about Madam Rani’s breasts.

Blame it on the society fuckin’ society.. “A girl can’t lie, she can’t be wrong, every girl is sati savitri, she should always be forgiven and all guys are born creeps”... So going by the book they ‘clearly’ figured out that my friend was a negligent, docile, dishonest philanderer who molests girls as often as Navjot Singh Siddhu laughs on PJs.

I wished it was all just a bad dream but then suddenly something happened that made me sure that it wasn’t. A police constable slapped Alok with the maximum force anyone can and the intensity of sound of his hand hitting Alok, symbolises the extent of the fuckin’ bias which exists the society against men. Whatever rubbish that chick was blabbing was being accepted as clean truth. She even threatened me to put me ‘behind the bars’ for only uttering a word. Boy! Maybe she was Princess Diana in disguise but in my opinion she was an infected whore who was really rocking us like hurricane.

An Evening That Changed My Life.-3

Policemen held Alok by his collar and dragged him into the police station and we all followed them pleading him to listen to us once. But they stopped directly inside the station only. Not surprisingly we found no help but only some more beatings there too. And moreover not even one person there was thinking or wanted to think of the possibility that it could have happened that Alok accidently touched her .Considering the fact that the movie ticket counter at PVR Saket is always so crowded there is a high probability of that. But no one was agreeing even to speak to us just cause maybe we had a point but not a pussy or cash.

Finally after many hours of waiting outside the police station we went inside the police station where Alok was standing in front of a police officer. We talked to him and tried to make him feel that he was innocent but still he didn’t believe us. And suddenly he suggested that one thing could be done, as you might guess the suggestion and yes it was MONEY. He asked for Rs 5000, now that’s a big amount for students like us but a very minuscule amount if the police arrests and releases someone for this amount. I mean police was wrong on many grounds be it logical, ethical ,moral, but we were handicapped only thing we could do was to somehow get 5k from somewhere anywhere, and ultimately somehow we did manage to get it, gave that money to him and got our beloved friend out of the place he dint belong to .

That day I was so exasperated, helpless, felt so vulnerable, my friend was been beaten in front of my eyes and wasn’t able to do anything. All the faith I had in police and as for that matter GOD faded away and hatred erupted which is justified. He was innocent then why was he suffering? During the time I spent outside police station waiting, I saw her many times and even tried to talk but she bluntly refused. I just think maybe one day I could meet her or have a little chat over phone about what exactly had happened that day. I mean I know my friend was innocent so just to make her realize that she was wrong and that not every guy is trying to pinch her ass I wanna talk to her.

He and She-1

F.U.C.K...Forgetful Unhappy Cynical Kooky ..thats He.

B.I.T.C.H...Blissful Intelligent Tenacious Coquettish Hot..thats She.

S.E.X...Sweet Elegant Xperiment=He + She

Met at the strangest of strange places to make a strange thing not so strange.But strange enough not to become strangers again..

AT PRESENT:

"What was that? huh?..

You are an idiot Nikhil"..She said..

"Ya I know I am an Oscitant thicko Sonia ma'am.. Mam you know whats my only wish?"...

"what?"..

!"I wish I were DNA Helicase ...so that I could unzip your genes.."..

"Shut up!!.."

SOME 48 HOURS EARLIER:

He somehow(rather any road) managed to get a place in an obscure Biology Lab.With the admission letter in his hand , he was sluggishly moving towards the lab for his first day. It was a good day that day.Clear azure skies ,the birds were tweed ling , 25 women were having orgasms , few cancerous cell lines were proliferating and the Jesus was...ahh!!! nobody knows whats he up to..He likes kicking people's asses by punching them in their faces...Nevermind..

Sophisticated ,Convoluted, Mother fuckin' Mary ..these words exploded in his encephalon as he saw the lab for the first time. Spicy, Enamouring,Naughty ..these words exploded in his phallus as he saw her for the first time.

and then he finally came in her(the lab)..

"Hello mam.Actually Dr.Sharma has given me the permission to work in this lab .Here's the letter" ..he said

"How cutie!!!..Kinna sohna dupatta hai and an adorable bag Seema..."..

"Oh hello.kal se anna "..

Nevermind..

SOME48 HOURS LATER:

"Shutup and do it " she said..
"Are you nuts!! Someone will see us" he said..
"Do it quickly otherwise koi pakka dekh lega"
"Dammit !! these bottles are so heavy"..

Stealing F.C.S and PbS from cold storage is as risky as sleeping next to Karan Johar(given that you are a guy).But they did ..

cont....