Face—Two Face

 

P.S This chat is not in association with Coca Cola, Pepsi, Huggies Diaper, Vicco Turmeric Cream and not even with MDH Masala. 

Lately I have been wondering what I shall write as a blog post and then a fantastic idea struck into my mind. Why should I write a post alone? Interview is the most glorious way to ease the burden. However, I will have to credit the interviewee, hence I asked a "very good friend" of mine to pop up on my blog (like an ad) for an unofficial chit chat.

So Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the author of a "widely read blog" (That is what she told me) Aura of Sleepless Dreams; Samadrita.

Since Samadrita is so much happy and honoured to be here so let us just skip the sissy formal talks if it is okay with her.

Samadrita - Sure, but how much will you pay me for this post? Oh sorry we'll talk about this later via mail.

Prateek – Samadrita, it is a Bengali name but what I want to know is, the meaning behind it.

 Samadrita- Samadrita comes from the word “Samadar” and refers to a female who is loved and

respected by all. XD Don’t I live upto my name? :P

  Prateek - Oh yes you do. Who knows it better than me. Eh!

Prateek – You have been blogging since 2008. Whoa! How did you stumble upon the thought to blog?

 Samadrita - It wasn’t a conscious decision to get into regular blogging. I just remember reading about a shocking newspaper report on the murder of a 10 year-old for an i-pod and felt the need to share my views somewhere. Before this I had read about how blogging had become a hip new trend for netizens and hence decided to get a blog myself. A platform where I could write and let myself be heard.

From The Diary of a Bullied Husband

17^th June

Dear diary,

Today I am celebrating 2 years of my marital status. For days, I have been conglomerating my thoughts in you. Most of them being rants and ordeals, but from tomorrow everything will change; I will rebuke, and will fly out of her dark and snobbish aura, which had been excruciating me and even my solace for years. Therefore, I will jot a synopsis of my journey from where it all started for the very last time. I am thankful to you for being a mute spectator and listening to me as a friend with a deep sympathy.

Anecdote 

I was an astute man before I got married, I lost all my sharpness; rusted and ditched, “queen of astuteness” bestowed over me. I remember she asked me, “Can you cook?” in our first meeting, what I never knew was; my answer will be taken too literally.

Deceptive

It was a fugitive delight when I got married. Did you notice the word “fugitive?” Soon we moved into our new home that I bought. In addition, that was the time when se unearthed her real self. She was not a zombie but something much more horrific than a zombie is—a sweet talker, aka manipulator (Said in a slow trembling tone) *Heavy Sigh*.

Cliché 

Making me clean the untidy dishes after working for nine straight hours is the most generous act according to her morals. She soon demanded to relinquish my control on the capital expenditure, a full share in my salary. I thought it was a good thing but sending me office with just Rs 200 as a pocket money; what in the world does that means?

I am always treated like I am a Congressmen even though I cast my vote on the name of Behen Mayawati.

Emancipation Seized

Soon she learned how to drive my car; I was force to commute via cycle to my office. She uses car for her own purpose now—parlours visit, stalking Sheila’s (Resident in the adjacent block) place, discovering new malls with 40-60% off hoarding, spa, bakery, etc.

Retro-Day in the Life of Engineer Prateek

| This guest post is written by Anita Menon who blogs at Slice of My Life. A heartfelt thank to her for such an "amazing" post.  

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction with resemblance to only one living person who is none other than Mr. Prateek Bagri. He invited me to do a guest post for his blog and wanted it to be funny/interesting. This is what I have got! I have used some twitter-related parlance such as tweets and mentions.

Guest Post- Retro-Day in the Life of Engineer Prateek

It was a typical summer day at the “Some Institute of Engineering and Technology” but the campus was exceptionally silent. The leaves rustled across the dust beaten cemented compound of the institute. The heat seemed to sizzle the institute's building and the peon checked his watch again. There was still an hour to go before he could ring the bell and announce the end of the examination. Through one of the windows, he noticed a student glance into his classmate’s answer sheet. He shook his head in repugnance. He had seen this year after year, the faces changed but the habits remained unchanged. Suddenly he heard shuffling of feet on the corridor and turned to look. He didn't expect any student to come out of the examination hall so early. He recognized the familiar face immediately. Thats the Bagri boy!! 

Prateek looked from his cell phone and found the peon staring at him. He just shrugged and started to climbed down the institute’s steps with his eyes still glued to his Sony Ericsson W705. He chuckled to himself while he scrolled down his twitter timeline. People can be unbelievably hilarious, he thought to himself. He tweeted,”Exam over. What a relief!" A second later,  ' Ping', he looked to check and found a mention 

Bollywood Ishtyle

After living in a country which has strived for almost two decades for something "cool", I have realized the true imitation potential of its citizens. Some choose to go public and some practice covertly. It isn’t easy to implant hypothetical genes of your favorite chocolaty actor or curvy actress inside your chromosomes. It requires a lot of practice, dedication and hard work but after you have successfully copied and created an identical ABC actor or a clone within yourself, now comes the time to flaunt your blatant act publicly. (But if implantation jeopardizes  the end results can hang you between bizarre and WTF is this? I'm not accusing Rohit Bal in any case here.) Assuming that majority have successfully completed the positioning of "alien" genes into their cells, it is now time for spectators to witness this turmoil (the exact word, though less brutal). The copycats always prejudice their AoI (Act of Imitation) as an unmatched manoeuvre, this momentarily happiness and modesty doesn't allow the "normal's" to break the jinx.

I never knew Chopra Uncle; my neighbor, was such an obsessive imitator of "Vijay Deenanath Chauhan." He would always croon his Father, Mother and Village name and his exact “age.” Apparently his DOB is his Facebook login password. I once saw him in a chat with Shobha aunty; Durgesh uncle's wife. But that is an off topic discussion. Chopra uncle has successfully managed to turn his family to a new and most widely practiced religion in India; bollywood. His wife had lately emerged as a strong Madhuri Dixit worshiper. She always seems to crave for a perfect day and every year selects holi to be the D-day for display of her AoI. Chopra aunty is found draped in a green Saree. When the maximum crowd is ogling her she start dancing on “Hum pe ye kisne hara rang dala.” Saree in his daughter’s wardrobe dictionary is an obsolete. According to her virtues; "draping self in a saree is so-not-like-Katrina" (Said in a fake UK accent). 

Interview: Osama Unplugged

Image courtesy- The Times of India 

With the assassination of world’s #1 most wanted terrorist, Osama Bin Laden; America is living in peace. Whining and winning go hand in hand, (let us say “Clinton—Bush” – “Obama.”) The only place which went with an atmosphere of non-celebration was journalist’s headquarters’ building. With a “dream” of interviewing Osama once in life died with Osama for them. They were left so much dishearten that channels had almost started showing the actual news. Then came a "boy" out of nowhere who posted Osama's interview on his blog; unreal, right!?!

"

He was sitting by the clouds when a care taker called Osama to attend a call from Earth for a special interview. Obama Osama went flabbergasted. Not expecting a fame call can make you go dumb, so got Osama. “Who are you? Human or Jihadi”, asked Osama. “Sir, I am a blogger who wants to interview you and make some money out of it” was his lame reply.

Open Letter to a Classmate

Dear classmate,


How are you? I hope you are “doing” fine. I am writing this letter to convey my sincere regards to you. I find these days of summers as the most promising time to pen my mind down to you perhaps because it will satisfy my itch to thank you for everything. It gives me immense pleasure to write to you. Please bear with me.

You can make me go to sleep, anytime!

It has been a long time, precisely few months less in a couple of year that I’m watching your face everyday just for the sake of attendance. It wasn’t long that you suddenly drift away from me and started your own “Anti-Me Campaign”; it was really heartening to see how hard you tried to expand your “jihadi” group which started from two and ended up with only one; you.


I want to clear my doubts with you in this post. I like the way you every time try to flaunt how cool you are against me. It makes me believe that “I’m also cool”. Blasting a bomb in college campus is not a heroic act rather I call it "kiddish." I had stopped doing this since I was in 8th standard, now it is boring. You call yourself a “beer frenetic” but you always avoid visiting a bar, even the one with the cheapest rates. You promised to throw a big lavish birthday party for your “friends” but were absent for straight 7 days from the date of your birthday (excluding Sunday). On the 8th day you gave your birthday treat as a “free” Corneto to everyone, of course except me.

The Great Comedy in Indian Shows

India television has been marked with eras. People go along the flow, entertainment is the basic entity. It doesn’t matter what kind of entertaining is being piled. Since I am a child of 90’s, the decade where India finally met and wed the globalization. A decade when Chetan Bhaghat was just an engineering aspirant, a decade which was marked with the release of the movie Border, a decade in which neither Uday Chopra nor Abhishek Bachchan thought to debut as a newcomer. As the time progressed TV shows categorized themselves—

Era of एकता में अनेकता 

Ever since I gained my cautious for the television, one, and the only name making headlines was Ekta Kapoor. Her reel dramas soon turned into real dramas. Time was not far when Indian husbands got severely retarded with the buckets sitting along the sofas to catch their wife’s precious tears. Mihir made a benchmark and Tulsi was making a perfect brain wash. Wives calling husband as “Mihir” created a perfect name jeopardy. “Suspecting husband” aka The Fa Deodrant effect also made  its place in the household works. Along with it brought handful amount of daily soaps which constraint housewives from cleaning entire house to only sofa and television set.

She (एकता कपूर, Sister/of तुषार कपूर, Daughter/of जितेंदर) ruled the world of drama for a long reign and finally her episodes started dying and eventually died (Law of Nature – Something which is born is ought to die). Women showed their great dismal, husbands now were getting breakfast and dinner on time, sons and daughter’s school visits were no longer procrastinated. Everything came back to normal (Women shares a different perspective).

Mom in Friends List. Eh!

Is that a Boy with her?

Why shouldn't you be friend with your parents on Social Networking? —


I take a great honor to write this post for the sake of “us” (I wrote us in “ ” because it somehow correlates “us”). This isn't a stereotype. Making parents friends on Social Network (not the film silly) is something which majority of teens (and some above the teens) do not prefer. After all you would not like your profile to be a subject of daily prying by your parents. They will everyday go by your profile to figure out the changed behavior of their darlings. Perhaps social network (let’s call it”Facebook”) empowers the parents to deeply examine “what’s on their mind?” (here their = Son's/Daughter's) This may sound strange but a “Status Update” is enough to turn their suspect into a firm belief.


Parents are always curious to know the insight of their modern 21st century child; perhaps that is why they ask "us" to open up in front of them; but who know “our open up may shut them down”. A finite distance is something which is ought to be maintained.


On what basis am I shouting? —

That Night

The Night

Last night she sighted her; Emily. She plays with Emily every second night; after all Emily was her elder sister. Things to 6 year old Lisa always seems clear – her sister plays with her at night but when she’s up from sleep, she’s gone.

There is Something

She told her Mum how much she uses to have fun at nights with Emily. Her mother was stunned but drops the idea calling it Lisa’s imagination. She discussed it with her husband and had a good laugh but certainly at some place in her mind something was rambling.

But How?

She heard Lisa with someone; she went to see Lisa. What she saw made her numb. Shivers of fear went through her spine froze her legs, paused her heart and suppressed her voice.
It was her; Emily. Rachel’s elder daughter who died 3 months ago in a car accident.

The History of "Nothing is Permanent"

This is the story of Epicness. An answer to the question "who is the father of nation the phase Nothing is Permanent". Last night I saw a dream which indirectly gave me the answer to my long searched question to which even Google said "don't you have anything else to search. Duh!". In my dreams Saltasaurus (my "last night dream" pet) gave me a trip to his city. His father Saltasaurus Sr. was a literature/philosophy scholar. Oh! Did I mention, his father framed this simple quote with complexity more than iota. Meanwhile, I was studying his thesis, Saltasaurus's mother cooked Masala Dosa for us; delicious it was. His sister works at a MNC. 

But, going by today I sincerely believe that Fevikwick and M-seal are pretty much "permanent". At least the ape’s descendent's were able to outclass dinosaur’s sayings up to certain extent. No, I won't lay the lame M-seal's dying-father-puts-extra-zero ad here. But will advocate the believes of our great dinosaurs, (who fortunately weren't our ancestors) how their sayings is now literally into practice everywhere.