While the world is struggling to cope up with obesity, there is still a minority that struggles to add even a few ounces. I know two from that minority. One keeps a secret that he wouldn't divulge even in his deathbed. He shops for clothes in the kids section. The other's secret is known to all. Whatever he eats and however big that meal is, he has to have a full meals at the end to fill him up. I can't help people like him. But I can help the first one move from the kids section to the main section. So if you are one of the first kind, follow my fail proof advice for exemplary results.
Make use of the weekend. When you return from work on Fridays, order your Saturday's and Sunday's breakfast, lunch and dinner from a nearby take-away/home delivery restaurant. Do not eat veg. Meat is where the mass is. The more legs the animal has, the better. So dogs, cows and sheep are better than fish and chicken. But spare the spiders. Make sure you eat biryani at least once a day. The key to weight gain is minimising your movements. So once you reach home, drag your bed and fridge next to the front door so you don't have to come to the front door to collect your food. Have five or six large plastic shit bags around you. And for the sake of aesthetics, do not use transparent bags. Try to sit still or lie down as much as possible. If possible try to get one of those wooden machines that Jackie Chan uses in his films to fetch him various things and move him around the house. It should not cost you a lot as it is second hand and Chinese. Drink lots of fluids. But do not drink water. Drink beer. Beer will keep you healthy and provide you those precious calories. The only fruit you are allowed to eat is the mango. I can vouch for mangoes. I gained 7 kilos in two month by supplementing my usual diet with 2 cartons of mangoes (over that period). Sleep. Sleeping minimises your body movements. So sleep as much as you can. You will find it hard in the beginning. But once you cross a threshold, you will be tired from the excessive sleeping and will sleep more than before.
That is the weekend plan. The weekdays plan is at a small price. Contact me for
further details.
23 June 2009
Superman
I waited for a full 2.4 days for Boston to update on our trip to the Stonehenge. He is probably training a speech-to-text software to understand his Anglicised thickly Thamizh-accented Indian English to understand him and write a blog for him. While the world can wait, my writer's itch pleads me to dump him and sketch my version of the trip.
Disclaimer: All ideas to this blog are solely mine and no part is stolen from Boston or Aja.
My arctic trip had skinned me to the bones and I had no money left. So I walked to the office for a week. It was weekend but I had to contend to sitting at home when Boston and Aja rang me up. The plan was already made and I was part of it. We were going to the Stonehenge for the solar solstice.
I knew my finances were bleeding. However, I had an ulterior motive to the trip. The Stonehenge was built in ancient times and it is said that the sun strikes the stones in a certain way on the solar solstice. This unusual event brought druids, tramps, gypsies, pagan worshippers and black magicians to the stones. Now, these people are very interesting people and if they were to congregate at the stones on this day, there must be something in it for all of them. Have you not seen movies where the sun strikes a crystal on a certain date and time, which in turn brings enormous power to the person holding the crystal? And I could be that person holding the crystal. I could become the person I have always wanted to be. I could be Superman!
But did I? That will be my little secret. But just to let you know, my underwear has mysteriously crept over my pants.
Disclaimer: All ideas to this blog are solely mine and no part is stolen from Boston or Aja.
My arctic trip had skinned me to the bones and I had no money left. So I walked to the office for a week. It was weekend but I had to contend to sitting at home when Boston and Aja rang me up. The plan was already made and I was part of it. We were going to the Stonehenge for the solar solstice.
I knew my finances were bleeding. However, I had an ulterior motive to the trip. The Stonehenge was built in ancient times and it is said that the sun strikes the stones in a certain way on the solar solstice. This unusual event brought druids, tramps, gypsies, pagan worshippers and black magicians to the stones. Now, these people are very interesting people and if they were to congregate at the stones on this day, there must be something in it for all of them. Have you not seen movies where the sun strikes a crystal on a certain date and time, which in turn brings enormous power to the person holding the crystal? And I could be that person holding the crystal. I could become the person I have always wanted to be. I could be Superman!
But did I? That will be my little secret. But just to let you know, my underwear has mysteriously crept over my pants.
22 June 2009
North Pole - 1
'I think you should sit at home and save some money instead of going out so often.' But staying at home, with nothing much to do and nothing on the TV, with just an idle housemate as you are can spur a lot of things. Now, all the perverts stop reading right here. You have got the seed for your imagination and there is nothing exciting and kinky after this.
What really transpired from the idleness cost me a lot of money. It cost me a little over a thousand pounds - my entire life savings. It all began with one simple question: 'How north can we travel?'
N: So raja, What are you doing this weekend?
raja: Backpacking to the arctic circle.
With a backpack, a new pair of shoes and my debit card I entered Heathrow and cleared all the Norwegian Kroners that all the American Express Forex depots had in stock that day. I was going to be the second Indian (Or at least that is what I thought) to set foot on Longyearbyen, the northern most human settlement in the world.
Confession: I have an ASS* now which will last for the next 7 days. Like common cold, this condition has no cure and will naturally fade away. Because of the condition, I named the post 'North Pole' even though I was a good thousand miles south of the north pole.
* Attention Seeking Syndrome
What really transpired from the idleness cost me a lot of money. It cost me a little over a thousand pounds - my entire life savings. It all began with one simple question: 'How north can we travel?'
N: So raja, What are you doing this weekend?
raja: Backpacking to the arctic circle.
With a backpack, a new pair of shoes and my debit card I entered Heathrow and cleared all the Norwegian Kroners that all the American Express Forex depots had in stock that day. I was going to be the second Indian (Or at least that is what I thought) to set foot on Longyearbyen, the northern most human settlement in the world.
Confession: I have an ASS* now which will last for the next 7 days. Like common cold, this condition has no cure and will naturally fade away. Because of the condition, I named the post 'North Pole' even though I was a good thousand miles south of the north pole.
* Attention Seeking Syndrome
19 June 2009
Second language
There are several advantages to your parents moving cities frequently when you are at school. You don’t have to be in that class where that bullying teacher made your little life miserable. Whether you completed your homework or not, whether you made a 100 or a zero, she always screamed at the entire class – at each one of you.
There is an added advantage if you moved states. If you are stubborn enough to tell the teacher that the second language you studied in your entire 3 years of schooling and the new second language that the new school taught were different; and that your little brain could not accommodate the new second language; and that you wished to maintain your cultural integrity; and if that school did not have a teacher who can teach the second language of your choice, you don’t have to study a second language. It happened to me!
And so for the next two months, for one full hour every working day, I played football by myself, roamed around the corridors, dug out earthworms and threw stones at the mango tree in the adjacent compound in a quest that one day I will be able to make strike one little mango. It however did not last long. If the mango tree had a glass window near it, it is not your mistake that the stone aimed at the mangoes cracked the window. As a 7 year old you think you can get away with it if you kept quiet about it. But not if the occupant of the house complains to the principal and not if you are the only one in the entire school premises to have the licence to roam the campus.
And so for the next year and three-quarters I spent my one free hour at the biology lab that houses preserved specimens such as meek looking snakes, a human kidney, gory lizards and a plastic skeleton.
While it was not entirely comfortable to have a skeleton to provide you company for an hour and your 7 year old male ego prevented you from confessing that you were pissing your pants at the look of it, you can always bank on your parents to move schools for you soon.
And they did. This time I was back to the state where the only second language I studied was the first language of the state and the second language of the school. But there was a problem again. I did not study a second language for the last two years to cope up with the rigours of a 4th standard class. You can always tell the teacher that your little brain with insufficient training will not accommodate the language after a two years break or that you wished to establish national integrity by not being biased at learning just that one second language. But it doesn’t work that way if the teacher happens to yet another bullying teacher who made your little life miserable.
Note: I learnt to read and write Thamizh reading Siruvar Malar from my neighbourhood library. After more than a decade I enrolled myself today into the local library and it brought back memories of my first library. I wanted to write about it and instead my confused, in two minds,uncertain, indecisive levelhead scribbled yet another nonsensical post.
There is an added advantage if you moved states. If you are stubborn enough to tell the teacher that the second language you studied in your entire 3 years of schooling and the new second language that the new school taught were different; and that your little brain could not accommodate the new second language; and that you wished to maintain your cultural integrity; and if that school did not have a teacher who can teach the second language of your choice, you don’t have to study a second language. It happened to me!
And so for the next two months, for one full hour every working day, I played football by myself, roamed around the corridors, dug out earthworms and threw stones at the mango tree in the adjacent compound in a quest that one day I will be able to make strike one little mango. It however did not last long. If the mango tree had a glass window near it, it is not your mistake that the stone aimed at the mangoes cracked the window. As a 7 year old you think you can get away with it if you kept quiet about it. But not if the occupant of the house complains to the principal and not if you are the only one in the entire school premises to have the licence to roam the campus.
And so for the next year and three-quarters I spent my one free hour at the biology lab that houses preserved specimens such as meek looking snakes, a human kidney, gory lizards and a plastic skeleton.
While it was not entirely comfortable to have a skeleton to provide you company for an hour and your 7 year old male ego prevented you from confessing that you were pissing your pants at the look of it, you can always bank on your parents to move schools for you soon.
And they did. This time I was back to the state where the only second language I studied was the first language of the state and the second language of the school. But there was a problem again. I did not study a second language for the last two years to cope up with the rigours of a 4th standard class. You can always tell the teacher that your little brain with insufficient training will not accommodate the language after a two years break or that you wished to establish national integrity by not being biased at learning just that one second language. But it doesn’t work that way if the teacher happens to yet another bullying teacher who made your little life miserable.
Note: I learnt to read and write Thamizh reading Siruvar Malar from my neighbourhood library. After more than a decade I enrolled myself today into the local library and it brought back memories of my first library. I wanted to write about it and instead my confused, in two minds,uncertain, indecisive levelhead scribbled yet another nonsensical post.
17 June 2009
9 June 2009
Saturday Night & the Kingfisher Girls
You don't say no when someone pays half your travel cost to travel 5000 miles for her wedding. It was my first Kingfisher flight. The first thing you will notice as you enter the aircraft is that unlike BA and Jet, there are no air-hosters. It was an all female servicing crew. The next thing you will notice is that unlike IA, they are all pretty. There was one similarity though - in all of these flights, all the air hostess have an inch thick foundation cream on their faces.
I was later told that the women were hand picked by Mallya. If I were in Mallya's position, I would have picked the same girls. But instead of having them work in the London-Heathrow aircraft, I would have them work in my private jet. It is just like what Mukund said he would do if he were put in a closed room with 'that' pretty actress; naked to the skin.
My luck got better when Sandhya sat next to me. Otherwise, how else would I have known that kids these days are so electronics savvy. I was very amazed at her seamless navigation on the touchscreen interface. The hand controller to the touchscreen distracted me away from Sandhya's dexterity and the pretty ladies shuffling around. This hand controller looked like a PS3 controller and there were games on the TV to top it. But my joy was short lived as I managed to load test the software yet again and crash the system.
Sir, would you like a beer?
I just had two and I wanted to say no. But when a pretty lady asks you repeatedly, the 'no' in the brain comes out as 'sure' from the mouth. Two more beers later I was just short of snoring when two mischievous minions who sat behind me pulled into full action. Their mum should have become immune to their screams over the years as she slept peacefully midst all the pandemonium. They didn't stop there. They repeatedly switched on and off other passengers' overhead reading lamps until they were out of their seats. I was out of my seat too. Beauty does not come with brains, doesn't it? Otherwise why would the air hostess give me so many beers, when, ideally she should have poured a couple of shots of JD for the kids and got them to sleep.
If the kids were one problem, the hand controller was another. The controller snug under the left armrest. So every time you moved a bit in your sleep, you either accidentally pressed the overhead reading lamp or the service button that summons the air hostess. While I liked to press just one of them repeatedly, I could not control the outcome of my twisting and turning as I unsuccessfully tried to sleep for the rest of the flight.
I disembarked from the plane, copied answers to a swine flu questionnaire from my neighbour and waited impatiently for the next 8 hours before I boarded another plane. It was the most turbulent flight ever in my life. But that story on another day...
Life lesson 1308: Everything happens for the good. If the boys had not woken me up at 2 AM in the morning, (when it was 6 30 AM at Madurai) I would have been jet lagged for the next 3 days and missed the wedding.
I was later told that the women were hand picked by Mallya. If I were in Mallya's position, I would have picked the same girls. But instead of having them work in the London-Heathrow aircraft, I would have them work in my private jet. It is just like what Mukund said he would do if he were put in a closed room with 'that' pretty actress; naked to the skin.
My luck got better when Sandhya sat next to me. Otherwise, how else would I have known that kids these days are so electronics savvy. I was very amazed at her seamless navigation on the touchscreen interface. The hand controller to the touchscreen distracted me away from Sandhya's dexterity and the pretty ladies shuffling around. This hand controller looked like a PS3 controller and there were games on the TV to top it. But my joy was short lived as I managed to load test the software yet again and crash the system.
Sir, would you like a beer?
I just had two and I wanted to say no. But when a pretty lady asks you repeatedly, the 'no' in the brain comes out as 'sure' from the mouth. Two more beers later I was just short of snoring when two mischievous minions who sat behind me pulled into full action. Their mum should have become immune to their screams over the years as she slept peacefully midst all the pandemonium. They didn't stop there. They repeatedly switched on and off other passengers' overhead reading lamps until they were out of their seats. I was out of my seat too. Beauty does not come with brains, doesn't it? Otherwise why would the air hostess give me so many beers, when, ideally she should have poured a couple of shots of JD for the kids and got them to sleep.
If the kids were one problem, the hand controller was another. The controller snug under the left armrest. So every time you moved a bit in your sleep, you either accidentally pressed the overhead reading lamp or the service button that summons the air hostess. While I liked to press just one of them repeatedly, I could not control the outcome of my twisting and turning as I unsuccessfully tried to sleep for the rest of the flight.
I disembarked from the plane, copied answers to a swine flu questionnaire from my neighbour and waited impatiently for the next 8 hours before I boarded another plane. It was the most turbulent flight ever in my life. But that story on another day...
Life lesson 1308: Everything happens for the good. If the boys had not woken me up at 2 AM in the morning, (when it was 6 30 AM at Madurai) I would have been jet lagged for the next 3 days and missed the wedding.
Cruel Intentions
It was a disappointment when Kumar stopped blogging. That was understandable. The weight of his new family must have broken his back. But why did the don stop writing? I had my own selfish interests for him to continue to write as he probably was the only one who ever mentions me in a blog!!
'So Don, why have you stopped writing?'
'You probably are the only one who ever reads my blog.'
While I told him that he didn't need a reader to write a blog, I knew it was upto him to write or not.
So why do I write? It is my vent. I am not sure what it is a vent to, but it certainly is very pleasurable to me when I write something. If I had to talk all the rubbish I write, I would have already been killed and mummified as a warning to all the living men and women like me. I stopped advertising my blog sometime ago after someone I knew humiliatingly told me not to send her links to my posts. But that does not stop me from writing, does it? Instead it inspires me to write good (what I think is good) blogs. I wish that one day she reads a good (what she thinks is good) post from my page, chuckles at it and then reads this to realise that it is her that I have mentioned in this post. But I know, it is a cruel world where my cruel intentions will not be realised.
'So Don, why have you stopped writing?'
'You probably are the only one who ever reads my blog.'
While I told him that he didn't need a reader to write a blog, I knew it was upto him to write or not.
So why do I write? It is my vent. I am not sure what it is a vent to, but it certainly is very pleasurable to me when I write something. If I had to talk all the rubbish I write, I would have already been killed and mummified as a warning to all the living men and women like me. I stopped advertising my blog sometime ago after someone I knew humiliatingly told me not to send her links to my posts. But that does not stop me from writing, does it? Instead it inspires me to write good (what I think is good) blogs. I wish that one day she reads a good (what she thinks is good) post from my page, chuckles at it and then reads this to realise that it is her that I have mentioned in this post. But I know, it is a cruel world where my cruel intentions will not be realised.
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