Jokes (do us) Apart…

I have been reading some serious stuff the whole day and for some light relief I opened those bulk mails. Just an effort to think afresh.

You know, what I mean, don’t you? We all do and its no different with me.

And I read some. And remembered TWO of them. Just two of them. Why?
You will find out yourself….

[1] Between the ages of 15 - 20 a woman is like Africa. She is half discovered, half wild. Between the ages of 20 - 30 a woman is like America. Fully discovered and scientifically perfect. Between the ages of 30 - 35, she is like India & Japan. Very hot, wise and beautiful !!!!!!!!! Between the ages of 35 - 40 a woman is like France. She is half destroyed after the war but still desirable. Between the ages of 40 - 50 she is like Germany. She lost the war but not the hope. Between the ages of 50 - 60 she is like Russia. Very wide, very quiet but nobody goes there. Between the ages of 60 - 70 a woman is like England. With a glorious past but no future. After 70, they become Siberia. Everyone knows where it is, but no one wants to go there.

[2] A man wanted to get married. He was having trouble choosing among three likely candidates. He gives each woman a present of $5,000 and watches to see what they do with the money.

The first does a total make-over. She goes to a fancy beauty salon, gets her hair done, new make-up and buys several new outfits, and dresses up very nicely for the man. She tells him that she has done this to be more attractive for him because she loves him so much.

The man was impressed.

The second goes shopping to buy the man gifts. She gets him a new set of golf clubs, some new gizmos for his computer, and some expensive clothes. As she presents these gifts, she tells him that she has spent all the money on him because she loves him so much

Again, the man is impressed.

The third invests the money in the stock market. She earns several times the $5,000. She gives him back his $5,000 and reinvests the remainder in a joint account. She tells him that she wants to save for their future because she loves him so much.

Obviously, the man was impressed.

The man thought for a long time about what each woman had done with the money he'd given her. Then, he married the one with the biggest boobs.

Any guess, who did what? I mean who sent which one?
Err…I mean, more specifically: gender of the sender...ha ha ha…(some comic relief there, as if.).

No prizes for guessing.
[1] some globe trotter still on the look out
[2] some analyst doing rounds of..err…no comments

Just some silly jokes doing rounds for light relief like this. Any comments?

Talking Stats...

Its number game: it scored 1000 hits. I am talking about my blogspot stats.
I am HaPPppy. Keep reading and keep in touch. I hope to be more regular and hope to keep up the expectation.

Tac/Tac su mycket/Gracias/Merci/ Mahalo/Dhanyavaad/Shukriya/Thank you/ blah blah..and blah..

Quote-Unquote

"A wonderful thing about a book, in contrast to a computer screen, is that you can take it to bed with you." - Daniel J Boorstin.

Escaping Escapade

I am safe home and miraculously escaped serial bomb blasts that rocked the capital city this evening. Really a narrow escape of sorts and I am lucky that I am safely back home.

Its kinda usual to catch up with friends or go for a movie on a weekend. And this Saturday was no different. I started the day with some phone calls to plan the weekend while browsing the morning newspaper. Movie I was interested in was not part of a common agenda so it was ruled out. But a get together was planned.

And our hang out zone for this weekend was as always the heart of the city which we fondly refer as CP (Connaught Place) . We still call it CP despite a more Indianized name of 'Rajiv Chowk' as it's become part of our vocabulary. We met and had a good time. Soon it's time to return.

I am for some reason fond of public transport and prefer taking metro rather than hiring a cab or an auto-rickshaw (equivalent to tuk-tuk). And since CP and my place are bang on the metro line its much preferred. And as usual I planned to take a train on my way back home. But for some reason I hovered around that place and stayed back to meet an old acquaintance (I used to live there and had lived almost for two decades in that area) .

Thus I escaped the twin blasts in CP.

If I had not for some reason NOT remembered that occasion and NOT decided to pay him a visit, I would have definitely be near the Central Park in CP around the time the blast was clocked.

I was so oblivious of the tragedy even when I was on my way back until suddenly my phone rang (it was jammed for well over an hour) and my dad broke the news. By then things were under control. And when I was walking down those lanes of Lutyens' Delhi (I like to walk those lanes; it brings me nostalgia from my childhood days), I was the only soul walking down the street.

Now the BIG question was: how do I get home?

My friends have already gone home, so no cars for me (and I don't drive). Delhi is on alert and all shops are closed, all street corners are deserted. My options were: a) to get in one of those crowded public buses and go bonkers with the thought of a blast on the bus for an hour (it takes an hour to reach my place on a bus); b) wait for an auto-rickshaw if it is willing to go my way; c) and wait till metro starts plying (it was stopped for security reasons).

I was getting all kinds of suggestions as friends and family were calling me non-stop. In my mind, walking was the safest mode but it's bit of an irrational thought to walk 20 KM. I completely ruled out the option of public bus as there is no control who boards and with what. News still pouring in about yet to explode bombs which were yet to be found. So, I patiently walked towards the nearest metro station and was greeted by a long queue; dozens of police vehicles; reporters from TV channels; sirens and hooters going on non-stop. I thought in my head: its much better to wait and get frisked and screened and be sure that there is no bomb in any one's bag. For some reason I trust the way metro functions.

But, you know for some reason I did not sound even for a second or felt 'panicked'; that's a strange realization. I was walking as if nothing happened. I was waiting in the queue amidst those brouhaha as if nothing can move me.

And I came home unscathed. I am alive.

Where is SIR?

Umm…I would not have even attempted to write something on this line if today for the n-th time I had not heard this. I guess it made up to the level to ‘inspire’ me for a blog post instead of writing what my super cute boss has been insisting on for a few days now (just two days to be precise, I will finish that the first thing after this one, promise!).

Well, the question was: “where is ‘sir’ (it was not ‘sir’ but a variation of sorts in Hindi)? Ohh, he must be at work” Whoa?

To tell you the whole thing I have to mince a few more words. So, allow me.

I am on my own. And off late, I am REALLY on my own (Read: started to stay in the flat I had bought earlier this year). This requires me to commission works when I want to fix some particular furniture or an appliance the way I want. Which further means I need to meet/talk with carpenters, electricians, plumbers, painters, etc etc and bring them home and tell them their job and supervise. Quite a process.

I am a perfectionist when it comes to a job and I can be really ‘bossy’ in my just five feet (or even less than that) stature and a nice façade (Read: face).

In India (especially) it is normal for people to be overtly curious. I have been courting volleys..err queries around who all are the occupants in my flat. I guess it’s because these workers around here do not think a female can be a sole occupant when I ONLY bring them home and I am the ONLY person they see in the place. And then it’s a full fledged house, so they are ‘entitled’ to think its housing a family and not just ‘only the female’ they meet.

And depending upon how blunt the question my repertoire varies between being sharp and rude to being snappy and snubbing. I have heard them all and tackled them with an effortless ‘dodging’ of a footballer in a way “dude, just tell me whether it functions properly or not; it’s immaterial whether for 10 people or one. And don’t ask me how many people will drink water from this water purifier in a day?”

Ummm…that was easy.

Then came a smart one from this electrician (who apparently knows my family, my dad and all): “who all will be staying here? Are you all shifting here?”

Umm…I had no clear answer. Because, I don’t want to give him any info. So I very nicely swallowed the question, yikes!

He’s a very curious sort, so he did not stop at that: "you are not married, right? Is this ok for you to stay here all alone?"

Urghhh…I least expected this one. So it was a shocker of sorts. But he has a point; he wants your info, that’s his birth-right. When you don’t even look married (well, here in India women sport certain symbols when they are taken…well, I mean married) why on earth you chose to live separately (he has been working for us for five past years or so, so has the right to talk like my granny!) I murmured something and I felt really angry while answering, so I preferred not to repeat it clearly in more audible voice (dont want to spoil a relationship; I very timely remembered advice of my so-very-good-at-man-management brother) and started to call some numbers while toying with my mobile. I later heard from dad that the electrician had paid him a visit and showed concerns around my new flat and that he (my dad) had not made a right decision.

Many more such comments followed and forgotten (as they did not ‘affect’ me so much) and I was just getting more used to the ‘game’; becoming a veteran of sorts.

Then it was the turn of my ‘I-don’t-know-what-to-say’ neighbor. He meets my brother during his weekend visits and very happily he goes on blabbering: “good that you started to stay here, it was lying vacant for so many months. So, it’s you and your wife?” Wow!! what imagination, I say, really creative imagination!!

It’s hard to engage my brother in a conversation in the middle of a staircase and when his smile can make you forget what your next sentence was. So, that was it.
And this one is so typical: watch this. This neighbor always watches me in the place, day in and day out and not my brother but he only chooses to ask questions to him. Such “gender sensitive” some people are! Anyway, my brother and him have become very goody-goody-hi-hello pals ever since.

But coming back to what made me start it all: I am revamping the look (not mine) of my flat and planned some more work and hence engaged a few more workers. I needed to go to their workshop and place an order and they needed to come and fix it after a week. They came (I brought them as they never came to this part of town or village?).
They entered, and looked in, and kept on looking as if they wanted someone to come out of the corridor, or the bathroom or whatever nook and corner not visible from the entrance. Well, what’s the matter?

Where is ‘sir’? I was like: windows are here, why do you need ‘sir’ in the house? I kept silent, I did not know how to react. Thank heavens, he incorporated his own answers: "Ohh, he must be at work.."

Umm…what?? I am paying you for what you are planning to fix on my windows and then I gave you correct measurements. I even got this helpful doorman remain standby in case he needs a hand. Now, why you need a ‘sir’ to appear from nowhere?

Anyway, here I am waiting for ‘sir’ to appear from nowhere to come home after his work. And then I have a ‘weekend-husband’ visiting me with such sexy smile (now I know from where my ‘I-don’t-know-what-to-say’ neighbor got so imaginative).

Now you know how it feels in my new place, on my own with ‘husband’ and ‘sir’ trooping in from all over. And I say: I don’t really know what to say. I am sort of speechless.

Umm….that’s something new..err news of sorts.

What’s say?