Stamping Feet

 When we were in school, we used to play a game we used to call Stamping Feet. The object of the game fairly simple and the rules were subject to change on the fly. It was basically a single player game and one person was considered out, a decision which we would come to based on “claps”(a complex method of eliminating and finding one random person in a group). The person who is out became the "catcher" and had to, with his shoes touch one of the other's. On success, the stamper would become the catcher and the stampee would join the rest of us and thus and the game continued. It was not really restricted to mere touching, it could also be stamping ( hence the name of the game ), kicking, tripping, anything that involved in contact between two things - one of them the shoes of a well fed, constantly sugar high, 15 year olds.

 On week days the bullies made merry. Thanks to the leather shoes which we were forced to use, the cheaper the shoe, the heavier it was and getting kicked by one was not a pleasant experience. No one really messed with the bullies. On week ends it was PT day and we were supposed to wear white canvas shoes. On these days, the game was quicker and it was more about technique and swiftness. Saturday games were more glamorous and usually included extra audience, the ones who were late and couldn't get their hands on the 1 basket ball, 1 volley ball and 4 shuttle rackets that were the only possessions of the PT department.  So with people(girls) watching and things like fame, name, 2 chewing-gums etc at stake the guys with the right body / brain / attitude for the game excelled and entertained. No one messed with the bullies on Saturdays too.

 The rest of us got fucked every day.

 The bullies went on to become politicians and real estate agents and the really rich people with loads of black money.

 The "body and brain" ones went on to become movie stars and sportsmen and entrepreneurs.

 The rest of us are still getting fucked every day.

Shankranthi 2009

Its festival time again and yet again I found myself banging on the doors of Halli Mane.

I have always loved festivals. I am not a very religious person and all but I have always loved festivals. Too many aspects to festivals them interesting but I am most intrigued by the feast most festivals have to offer. Since I am still in the phase of my life enjoying my bachelorhood, I usually find myself enjoying my fest at Halli Mane.

Halli Mane is a concept restaurant which serves mostly Karnataka rural food. Situated on one of the cross roads on one of Mallehshwaram's busiest roads, this restaurant has to its credit providing healthy and hygienic food to the people of Bangalore. Halli Mane organizes feasts on chosen Hindu festivals at regular intervals. This Shankranthi was one such occasion. I had my festival feast(suggi) here. And what a feast it was!

Me and Me-non reached the destination, ready for the lunch at about 1. Since both of us were working on that day, we were both in office clothes and very out of place. Every time I have gone there for my festival meal I have had an awesome experience. This time was no different. Well different a little in terms of the menu, but awesome none the less. Its like at home, like you have just finished the pooja, asking god for all the useless things in the world and you sit for a meal. There are flowers everywhere, the whole place is decorated, and the smell of the food is so very inviting. Everyone is dressed for the occasion and there are people handing over the prasadam and juice and the ladies are dressed in saris and adorn flowers and they all look so pretty. The "service" part of the experience is tip-top. Clean men with clean clothes with clean vessels with very nice looking food come and serve a feast so good, one must experience to understand.

This time, I had to pull some strings and get a back door entry cos there were close to a 1000 people waiting in line and I HAD to get back to work. We got thro the back door into the kitchen, which spans two floors just like the rest of the restaurant. We walked thro the huge cookers and huge vessels with boiling oil or steam something, on to a metal stair case and thro a door into the first floor of the main restaurant. The entry in itself was rather filmy and the food that followed, followed suit. A delicious "close to 5" course meal was laid out in front of us on a big plantain leaf. I would not like to get into the details of the menu but I promise ill pass on all the information of Halli mane to anyone who drops in a personal request. Like I said, I can pull some strings there ;)

Like in every fairy tale there is a villan, an ugly old witch or mean wolf, this habbada oota too had its villans in my fairly tale lunch.

I cant seem to get a hang of how parents can take the shit the kids do. Seriously. Kids are the future of our country... they have to be brought up well. I seriously could not understand how the fat mother of the fat kid sitting next to me could enjoy her meal without being affected this moneky of a son. He bloody would not shut his mouth. I mean, talk talk talk all the time. Not just talk, stand up, spill water, cry, make the guy serve him the kheer 4 times and make a painting out of it on the leaf, touch my leaf, touch me, kick me, stamp my shoes and all the crazy shit spoilt brats do. Seriously parents, please do something about the kids parents... you don’t want them to end up like me one day. Believe me!

Oh ya! Happy Shankranthi 2009!

Kids

There is this popular line which is used by a lot of men in a lot of movies "I like kids. Other people's kids". I am of the opinion that I like kids as long as there is a clear 30 meters distance between me and the kid, or at least there is a solid, sound proof, bullet proof wall between us.

A movie theater is one place where I don’t just hate kids. I DREAD them. I think all my hatred towards kids has its roots in one of the hazaar multiplexes of Bangalore.
There are two kinds of kids and two kinds of people in multiplexes.
One set of kids are the ones who don’t have a fuckin idea what is happening on screen. Either they are too young to know or they are too spoilt to give their brain a chance. They just make noise. Loud noise. Cry. Shout. Pee. Crap. Stink. Spill pop corn. Spill coke. Get lost. Loose their cap. Loose their clothes. Loose their sanity. These kids are the ones who come with useless parents which brings us to the first kind of parents. The useless ones. They have no idea what to do with their kids. They are just blessed with highly irritating kids and very low children management skills. They just let the kids be. They like the millions others around are hoping that the kid bloody shuts up and wishing they had used protection. 1The other set are the intelligent ones. The ones whose parents think are going to make it to NASA when they grow old. Its like a fuckin quiz happening in the theater.

Confused Kid: Daddy what is dyslexia?
Father of the Unfortunate Confused Kid: Its a disease sonny. It a mental disorder
CK: Whats a mental disorder?
FUCK: Some people are born with some problem in their brain ...... (On and on about it)


FUCK: Who’s that? (Pointing to the screen)
CK: KAREENA KAPOOR
FUCK: Very good. And whose that?
CK: Thats Saif... Kareena's boyfriend. He has a divorced wife and a son like me
FUCK: Excellent!! (turning to MUCK) Sonny is a very fast learner. He knows everything


Its time people realize that a movie hall is not a place where kids can have their evening out. They need a play ground with fresh air. More importantly, its high time people realize that movies are not a place where kids can gain knowledge. There is not one useful piece of shit that out movies have to offer kids. So keep them away from movies. Make them useful. Make them loveable.