Thursday, October 27, 2011


Harry and Hermione ran the fastest. Ron was trying to catch up, and Harry and Hermione had to slow down at places to wait for Ron. It wasn’t a Death Eater or a Dementor this time. The Dark Lord himself was chasing them.

“I will kill you Harry Potter,” hissed Voldemort, as he kept casting Avada Kedavra’s at them repeatedly. But he missed everytime. ‘Damn these snake eyes,’ he thought to himself.

Whilst they ran for their lives, Harry and Hermione spotted an object atop a hillock at a distance. “Portkey!” they both exclaimed in unison, and cued Ron to follow them, as they sprinted towards the Portkey.

As they reached, they saw that it was a toy; an action figure toy of a super hero. The face of that toy looked wrinkled and old, and the costume was blue and silver, with blue spark effects, and the whole toy looked like a gay person. At the back of the toy was written ‘G.One’.

“Damn Bollywood marketing,” exclaimed Ron.

“Isn’t this the Indian actor who can spread his arms really wide?” asked Harry.

“Yup. That’s him,” confirmed Ron.

“Are you sure this gay looking toy is a Portkey Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’m sure. I can sense the Portus charm has been cast upon it.”

“How can you sense a charm Harry?” asked an astonished Ron.

“Dude, I’m The Harry Potter. I can do anything, and everything happens only with me. So just trust me here okay?”

“If you say so Harry.”

As their hands were moving forward to grab the G.One doll, Voldemort apparated in front of them. He had suddenly realized that he could apparate, and was being dumb in chasing them. And before they could react to the situation, all four of them had touched the Portkey.

Thousands of miles away, in the city of Mumbai, they four appeared.

They all got scared. It was a very weird place. There was a huge crowd surrounding them, and loud music played at ear-fuck levels. The crowd around them was going around in circles, clapping their palms together synchronously on the music being played. Few people in the crowd, it seemed, were merrily fighting by clanking wooden sticks together.

As their eyes scanned the whole place, Hermione finally saw it. There was a large hoarding which said ‘Navratri Dandiya Mahotsav’

“Where are we?” exclaimed a visibly scared Voldemort. He had the perfect chance now to end Harry’s life, but he wasn’t going to. He knew he’d need someone with him in that scary place, where people were celebrating this bizarre ritual.

Everyone around them was heavily dressed. The men were wearing long colorful robes, and the women were wearing skirts and blouses. A big bulge took shape in Voldemort’s cloak as he saw a few girls with backless blouses.

“Duuuuuude!,” Harry pointed, as Ron and Hermione joined in the laughter.

“You little kids know nothing about magic. It’s a charm I’m practicing.”

“Oh yeah right. What do you call it? Hornius Erectum?” commented Hermione, as they all burst out laughing harder.

“You need to get laid Voldemort,” said Harry, “and with an actual woman. Stop fucking Nagini.”

This resulted in an uproar of laughter, resulting in Voldemort feeling insulted and walking away.

Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of that Garba Raas, and entered the car parking lot. There, inside most cars, they saw couples in various stages of undressing and various positions of sex. That is when they understood the true meaning of Navratri.

Outside one car, they saw the bodies of a boy and a girl, screaming in terrible pain.

“Someone has cast the Cruciatus curse on these muggles,” Hermione reckoned.

As they peeked inside the car, the saw a skinny man covered in a black cloak, shaking mildly. It was Voldemort. He was masturbating. And as he did that, he was making a weird noise. ‘Aaahhsss… anak su-na-moon… p s balasubramaniam… sufferin succotash’

“Ewwwwwwww. Snake Penis,” they all exclaimed aloud.

Voldemort suddenly got aware of their presence and apparated.

“What was he saying Harry?” asked Ron.

“That was Parselmouth for ‘yeah baby this feels so nice’” translated an embarrassed Harry.

As they walked, Harry saw a wooden stick lying on the ground. It was similar to what muggles were using to play Dandiya.

“Is this The Elder Wand?” Harry wondered aloud.

“Buddha Hoga Tera Baap. I am the younger wand. Yo!” the wand replied.

Harry recklessly threw it away.

“So what now? Where do we go?” Hermione asked.

“I know,” said Ron, as he took out a cell phone. That was a muggle communicating device that his father was really fond of. He instantly called up Parvati Patil, who he knew stayed in Mumbai. He explained the whole situation to her, and she invited them over to her place.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the next one month at the Patil’s residence, with Parvati and Padma. Staying in Mumbai made them acquainted with political parties like Shiv Sena and MNS, and that is when they understood the real reason why Rowling chose Marathi Indian characters. She didn’t want her book banned in Maharashtra.

Parvati and Padma’s mother, Mrs. Pratibha Patil, was more than delighted to have Harry over. She told him how their family was always close to James and Lily Potter, and how James and Lily came down to Mumbai every year during Diwali.

Once, during Diwali, while enjoying the muggle device called TV, they chanced upon the trailer of the new Agneepath movie, starring Hrithik Roshan and Sanjay Dutt. That is when they found out that Voldemort had bulked up in between and acted as a villain in that Bollywood movie.

While they saw TV, Parvati felt like taking a leak, and she went to the bathroom. Right before she was about to open the bathroom door, she heard a weird noise coming from inside.

She knew this voice. She knew it was Parselmouth. And since Harry was out watching TV, that could only mean one thing.

She rushed back and told the others that You-Know-Who was in her bathroom. All of them, wands drawn, went to the bathroom, led by Harry. They pressed their ears against the bathroom door, and heard a noise coming from inside.

Sun saiba sun… savita bhabhi… ai ai ya suku suku… sala sutiya

“It’s him,” Harry whispered to the others. “He’s shagging again.”

And then, Harry got an idea.

“Knock Knock!,” said Harry aloud.

“Who’s there?” Voldemort replied.

“I’ve had a…”

“You’ve had a what?”

“I’ve had a Kedavra!” yelled Harry as he burst open the door and pointed his wand at Voldemort.

And there, right in front of their eyes, lay the Dark Lord, dead. But for someone who lived such a terrifying life and was known as the darkest wizard of all times, dying with one hand grabbing his non-erect dick didn’t make a good picture.

“Kids,” Parvati and Padma’s mother spoke, “there’s something you must know.”

They all sat near the fireplace, surrounding Mrs. Patil. “You know Harry, that whole story of Voldemort coming to kill you and killing you parents and leaving a scar on your forehead…”

“Yes Mrs. Patil,” said Harry.

“…is bullshit. The truth is, like every year, your mom dad had come down to Mumbai with you one Diwali. That year, Voldy was here too, celebrating. He loved rockets. And one day, as he was firing a rocket, the bottle fell. That rocket flew right into our house, and right to your face, leaving your forehead scarred for life.

“Voldemort couldn’t stand such an embarrassing incident being associated with him, The Dark Lord. So he cooked up the whole story as you know it. He killed your parents because only they knew the truth. I know all this, as when it happened, I was making puris in the kitchen. Voldy wasn’t aware of my presence, and that’s why I live till this day to tell you the truth. So originally, I am The-Kaku*-Who-Lived”

A tumult of emotions stirred inside Harry. As he was lost in thoughts, a misfired rocket entered the Patil house and hit Harry on his forehead. There was a throbbing pain in his scar. Everyone rushed to his help.

“Harry,” Hermione gasped.


“That rocket formed another scar, and both the scars now form an x. It looks like the logo of that Navratri Dandiya Mahotsav on your forehead.”

They all shared a hearty laughter over Harry’s new stupid look. “Ek toh phursht only he looks like Jushtin Bieber, upar se this, Poor chap,” said Parvati, in her signature vernacular style.

(Parvati’s mother also later solved the mystery of why the portkey didn’t function properly and transported them to Mumbai. It was Made in China.)

The scar then never pained Harry ever. All was well. (Although he had to visit a plastic surgeon to remove those scars on Ginny’s insistence.)

* Kaku is Marathi for aunties who look like crows.

Monday, October 17, 2011


This blog had started with a humble post about my dream encounter with the most divine deity of the modern world, God Google. (You can read it here) But recently I had another encounter, with the most sacrosanct, the most heavenly, the most awe striking thing ever. No I’m not talking about Scarlett Johansson’s breasts. I am talking about the Almighty, The God!


So there I was, making my morning poop whilst reading the newspaper, when suddenly my phone beeped. It was a WhatsApp chat message from a friend.

Good Morning : )  : )  : )  : )
Jagjit Singh died. : (

I was amazed! I was gobsmacked! I was staggered! I was flabbergasted!

Then I realized all those adjectives were majorly used to describe surprises of the good, happy kind.

Then, I was shocked!

I belong to the happy, mature and sane generation that grew up in the 90s, a beautiful period devoid of Pokemon and Hannah Montana. It was the time of Dexter’s Laboratory, Powerpuff Girls (I’m straight), Johnny Quest, Captain Planet, Swat Cats, Little Lulu Show, and other such wonderful cartoons, as opposed senseless crap like Shinchan. It was a time of Champak, Tinkle, Chacha Chowdhary, and Amar Chitra Katha, and not of Savita Bhabhi (although that wouldn’t have been so bad). It was a time when Justin Bieber used to sing in his/her mother’s womb, and Himesh Reshammiya used to sing never. This list could go on and on, but I would prefer writing a separate post on that.

What I want to say here is that it is very difficult to slowly realize that all those people who made life what it was so far, are exiting the stage, one by one. So the news of Jagjit Singh’s death came as a big shock. And most of us weren’t even over Steve Jobs’ death till then.

ME: Why God? Why are you doing this?


ME: I need answers God. You can’t just stay quiet all the time. YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ME!!!

*Poof* (God Appears)

ME: Hey whoa what the hell man! (Frantically covering lower area with newspaper) At least knock dude.

GOD: What is it?

ME: I need some answers.

GOD: Google them.

ME: No. I need them from you.

GOD: Hmph. Please be quick. I had to bloody stop watching Big Boss to come here and watch you poop.

ME: Big Boss?! It’s 8 in the morning.

GOD: I have the episodes on my laptop.

ME: Pfft! Loser.

GOD: Buddy, I hope you realize that it won’t take me one second to make that thing covered under the newspaper disappear.

ME: (Shit Scared) Heyyyy. Take it easy bro. I was just asking you who is the loser in Big Boss this time.

GOD: Bad cover up. Please ask whatever you want to and let me go. I can’t bear this stink.

ME: Hey c’mon it isn’t so bad.

GOD: Are you kidding me? It’s worse than a Chilean Mine. If I bring Jesus here, both his arms spread on the cross will fold in and cover his nose.

(I took offense)

ME: (flush)

GOD: Thank you.

ME: So what’s with you and killing awesome people these days? First Tiger Pataudi, then Steve Jobs and now Jagjit Singh. It’s like every morning I open the newspaper hoping no other good person should have passed away.

GOD: That’s the law of nature my friend. People come and people go. You can’t help it. It’s the cycle of life. Death is the biggest reality of life. Today these people die, tomorrow more will. Before you know it, everyone will be dead, the world will be over, and the only thing remaining in the universe would be the echoing sound of Himesh’s ‘oooooooo’

ME: (giggles) Good one.

(God and me hi-five)

ME: But you’re doing it too soon. And too fast. Take them, but slowly. Give a gap of at least six months between deaths of two awesome people.

GOD: It doesn’t happen that way Kalpak.

ME: Why not? I'm sure Rajnikant could do it. And you’re God. You are the most sacrosanct, the most heavenly, the most awe striking thing ever.

GOD: I’m not Scarlett Johansson’s breasts.

ME: You can do anything. You can take politicians if you so badly want to kill.

GOD: Oh so now you petty humans will tell me how to operate?

ME: Why do you have so much ego?

GOD: I don’t have ego.

ME: O yeah?! Then why we lost marks in English whenever we didn’t start writing your name and pronouns related to you with capital letters?

GOD: But you lost marks when you didn’t write ‘I’ in capital too. If you people give so much importance to yourself, don’t you think I deserve a little bit?

ME: (farts)

GOD: Don’t change the topic now.

ME: He He. So who’s going next?

GOD: That I can’t tell you. But let me ask you something. Who do you still wish was alive even today?

ME: Amrish Puri. I miss him.

GOD: (smiles) And who do you wish should never die?

ME: Well there are many in that list. A few names coming to my head right now are Dan Castellaneta – because if he dies, Homer Simpson dies; Neil Gaiman – he’s the best writer ever; Neil Patrick Harris – he’s awesome; AR Rahman and Sachin Tendulkar – because they’re better gods than you; Amitabh Bachchan - .

GOD: Hmmm. (interrupting me) Nice. But you do know they too are going to die some day or the other.


GOD: That so didn’t fit. You’re lame.


GOD: (staring blankly)

ME: (composing myself)

GOD: Anything else you want to know?

ME: Well…I hate you. I have many complaints against you. I don’t think you’re doing your job well. You suck. So…..

GOD: So…?

ME: When I walk out of the loo, will I have all your powers? Will you make me Kalpak Almighty?

GOD: Ghanta.

*Poof* (God disappears)

(And that, kids, was the story of How I Met God)

P. S.: Hoshwalon Ko Khabar Kya…has never gone off my playlist even once. And it never will. RIP Jagjit Singh.

Thursday, October 6, 2011


 Let’s face it, believers or not, we all read our horoscopes everyday. We all remain cautious the day it says ‘accident prone’, we all dress our best when it says ‘chances of falling in love today’, and we all trim our pubic hair when it says ‘you might get lucky’.

Basically, we all are lame. And people who deny being lame are the lamest. (Add this to my Bro Code)

Now I have a genuine reason why I chose horoscopes to be the topic of my post this time. It could have been anything from the sad demise of the great Steve Jobs, to the autobiography that Shoaib Akhtar wrote when he was doped (drugs supplied by the publishers), to the shape and color of my today morning’s poop (Carrot-ish, chrome yellow). By the way, if your last name is Jobs, you should know beforehand that resigning will lead to death. And just in case the following is going to be your strategy, it’s not going to work:

Mom. Dad. Steve Jobs died. Can I buy an iPhone, just out of respect for him?

So this post could have been on any random topic, but it's not. It rather is on a very specific random topic… horoscopes. And the main reason for that is my sheer frustration towards them off late.

Let me explain.

Since the past almost three weeks, my horoscope, almost every day, tells me about the possibility of meeting someone new and falling in love and a new romance blooming.

 Now I’m not a desperate guy (stop laughing). I’m just currently in the Ted phase of my life, where I’m yet again searching for my ‘The One’. So when horoscopes, something you trust on a little more than your barber, keep suggesting the possibility of two flowers dashing together (censored Indian version), you tend to get hopeful.  

Again, its not that I want a girl just for the physical stuff (I’ll seriously punch you now, STOP LAUGHING!), but having an empty, nice, completely furnished apartment, fully to your own self in a new city and no girl seems like a total waste. I used to believe good chicks in Baroda are rare (I was born and brought up in Bombay, which is why my benchmark of good chicks starts way high), until I visited the Navratris here. And now I can safely say that Baroda chicks make Bombay chicks look like Thane – Mulund chicks (I don’t mean that girls, it’s just for my psychological satisfaction)

So now you understand the reason behind my frustration. And my frustration is the reason behind this post. By the way, have you ever wondered why, when asked by parents ‘what do you predict my child will become?’ astrologers never say that the child will be an astrologer?

So here it is, your horoscope, by me. I’ll call it ‘What Ganesha Actually Says’

ARIES (March 21 – April 19)
If you’re an arian born on 24th of March 1988 at around 2.12 PM, then you are awesome. You are absolutely sexy, and great in bed. You look handsome, and you can go a week without bathing and still not stink. You are the funniest of them all, and your penis is really thick and long. If you’re not born on 24th of March 1988 at around 2.12 PM, then you’re totally jealous of the one who is.

TAURUS (April 20 – May 20)
You will watch the Matrix trilogy for the 17th time this week, and still won’t understand most of the concept. If you’re an engineering student, you will contemplate suicide after this, as you will feel your life has lost all meaning. If you’re a normal person, you will say ‘fuck it’ and start watching the LOTR trilogy. If you’re gay, you’ll start watching Twilight series.

GEMINI (May 21 – June 21)
You will be the centre of attention at a social event, because your nipples would be shaping up due to the AC being on blast. Marriage is on the cards. This doesn’t mean you’re likely to get married; it means you’re receiving many wedding cards. And at one of these weddings you’ll meet your soulmate, and are likely to get married. But do not marry the person. He/she is just talking to you because your nipples are showing.

CANCER (June 22 – July 22)
Your zodiac is a disease, and so are you, on this planet. Forget just today, but this whole week, whole month, whole year, your whole life will be bad. You will fail in school, you will not get admission in college, you will not get the girl you desire, your marriage will be a failure, your kids (in whose creation you have no contribution) will throw you out of the house, and after you die, God and Satan will argue over you:

‘Ae tu le na isko.’
‘Ae nai tu lena.’
‘Ae hamesha kya main hi leneka?’

LEO (July 23 – August 23)
You’re reading this blog right now. (So far so good, eh!) Your girlfriend will walk in on you while you’re secretly watching Bade Achche Lagte Hain, and you will have a hard time explaining her you’re straight. You will win the Ghar baithe Lakhpati contest on KBC, and will gamble by trying to answer one more question, and will end up losing all the money.

VIRGO (August 24 – September 22)
No matter how much ever you fuck around, thanks to your zodiac, you will remain a Virgin for life. You will get hit in your stomach by a cow as you try to milk her. The same incident will repeat with your wife in the bedroom, and you will have a Déjà Vu. To avoid such unfortunate incidences from occurring, recite ‘Bobo sheeky ooh laa eeky eeky eeky’ 150 times, and slap your left butt cheek every time you say ‘Eeky’.

LIBRA (September 23 – October 23)
What are you doing reading this blog? Your birthday is coming. Make plans for the treat Go. Shoo. If your birthday is today and you’re reading this, just take a moment and think about what your life has been reduced to. If your birthday got over, sulk. You just lost one whole year of your life.

SCORPIO (October 24 – November 21)

The moon will be jolly dancing with Uranus today, due to which you will get Haemorrhoids (Piles). As a result, the moon will be hovering around Uranus, and a doctor will be hovering around Your Anus. Also, Jupiter cheated on Pluto when he discovered Pluto was no more an official planet. Pluto caught him red handed in the fifth house with Mars, and there was this big commotion. Earth and Venus grabbed pop corn and sat together to watch the fight. All these things mean bad luck for you.

SAGGITARIUS (November 22 – December 21)
If you’re a female, and someone at a party asks you ‘Are you a saggy?’ don’t get offended. He isn’t referring to your breasts; he’s just confirming your zodiac. If you’re a guy, go check your Orkut. Exactly one day before you shifted to Facebook, you’d sent a random fraandship request to a hot chick on Orkut. She has finally replied in your scrapbook, and added you back. Actually chuck her; she’s so lame she’s still on Orkut. You can do better. As the great Aristotle once told Alexander, ‘Always stalk 5 girls on Facebook at a time, atleast one will surely add you back. But she won’t be the one you badly want to befriend’.

CAPRICORN (December 22 - January 19)
Every year you ruin the Christmas or New Year with your birthday being around, and this year won’t be any different. You will make many new friends today, none of whom will be there when you need them. Wear your sky blue underwear today.

AQUARIUS (January 20 – February 19)
All planets are in their houses, which is great for you, but you’re out of your house. You will get drunk tonight, and have a gala time with your friends. If you’re a female, go and sleep with a guy who’s just moved from Bombay to Baroda and writes a humor blog *wink wink*, and it will be highly auspicious for you.

PISCES (February 20 – March 21)
Just like your zodiac, even you will remain last forever. Today is a very lucky day for romance. For things to go smoothly, you must show middle finger to your boss today, when he’s looking at you. Keep your cell phone charged today. There are chances you might get caught by your mom when you’re watching porn. Be careful.

And yes people, I was born on 24th March 1988, at 2.12 PM. So I’m very confident that this horoscope is true.

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