A Bachelor's stint with Motherhood!

Way back in September 2006, I was like any other 25 year old. Life was rocking. Booze, Girls, Rock shows, Heavy Metal, Trance, professional up-gradations, Insurance Examinations and all that. Life was set and good. Besides, Navaratri was on. Dandiya fervor was in full swing, if you may call such dance form swing. That's what I call Dandiya. Swing and Wave and hit and spin and swing and wave and hit and spin and do it again. Fucking Aerobics. Besides its a time you get to hear worst of the singers on the very worst of the sound systems. An earful of cacophony. 

Back to the main story, I kept hearing two little dog pups crying whole night from somewhere near our bungalow and could not concentrate. First thing in the morning I decided to check on it. Sheer inquisitiveness. I saw two 3 week old pups had arrived somehow near our house and were without their mother.They were way too little to be on their own. Both were bitches and one was white with brown spots and one was brown with white spot near its neck and forehead. I decided to bring them home then and there till the time they were cured. 

Brownie had crow bites on her back and rear back and could not see. The sad part was when doctor told us that she would not survive as her eyes were maggot infested too and soon they would penetrate her brains and she would die. For two days she was with us and, lamentably cried away to her death. That was the first time I had seen my mom, dad and me crying together. We buried her in the garden near our house and planted a small plant and a little flower for her. I still think about her sometimes and a tear somehow finds it way down my eyes.

The good thing was whity was all good and she would survive said the Vet. We all were joyous. Her wound had very little maggots in her front left paw and it was cured within a day or two with a good dose of injection :). She is still scared of injections though and hates to eat tablets of any sorts! We named her BILLO.

Billo had barely opened her eyes and and initially I tried giving her milk (diluted with loads water) with dropper but billo would suck on the dropper. Although it was funny, it was a daunting task and thats when my motherly instincts developed and I decided to buy a baby's feeding bottle and widened the nipple hole a little (Engineer, you see) and Billo started sucking milk to her stomach full thereafter. Then she would stop. Her stomach would swell up like a little football and then she would walk around in her box and sleep. Then she would wake up. She would poop and piss and then again started crying for milk. This happened after every two hours. My mom used to take care of her in the mornings due to my work but after 1900 hours, it was my duty till 0700 hours the next day. I first used to cradle her in my arms and then give her the bottle but then decided that dogs have different way and hence made a hole in her box and used to slip part of bottle so that she would easily suckle on the bottle. The best part is she would also try to press the sides of the bottle thinking it was her mother :). Those were 2 hour stints were the most unforgettable situations for me and now are the happiest moments of my life when I ponder on past.

We noticed she shivered a lot too after drinking milk. She would not like blankets and throw them away. I used to change the cloth feed her every night ever two hours for  four to six months and slept on the near her box till she was big enough to be on her own


That's when we found out about Mr. Karve, who trains dogs and breeds them and has a lodge for them in New Panvel area, Navi Mumbai. We contacted him and he gave us some wonderful pointers. We made a huge TV box her home first and gave it little tears near bottom area so that she could see outside and not try and always come out of the box and damage her hind legs. Then we put up a 40W bulb over her box so that she could get the motherly heat that was required at that tender age. A sort of incubator you see.

Billo in her early days would suck on every thing that came her way including my fingers. See the video and you will know what I am talking about.AS she started growing up, she would chew and bite every thing that came her way. Those moments were the trippiest in my life and the happiest too. I could sincerely feel what a mother must be feeling her child growing up actually.

As any child she got her times to play full time and she would weck havoc every where in our garden and in our house. All was forgiven for her as she was our blue eyed pet. :). Like any other kid when she was six months old (6 months old) it was time for her to go to school and we zeroed in on Mr. Karve to train her completely. Thereafter she was a different dog alltogether. Serious and responsible. She would bark at everyone that came on our house's gate and would lovingly give both shake hands and sat and jumped when she was asked to. One of her unique way of saluting other dogs is some thing like this: She is fiery. Mind it. Its her territory and no one can enter it.

And her favorite timepass is catching her own tail.

Billo is now six years old and her watchful ness keeps our entire street safe as she remains awake the whole night doing her own time pass and barks at any suspicious activity and alerts all of us. She is like a kid to our family and my stint of 5 years with her around has seen me acting more like a mother as well as a father to her. Including seeing that she gets her food before me and all that.

Never knew one pet like her would change my life for better forever.This post took me 5 years to write and has been an compilation of entire billo growing up years till date. The best part is as a pariah dog, she recently won the appreciation award in a dog show arranged by Lions club for being the most obidient dog and won goodies worth a thousand Rupees and Rs. 200.00 cash prize. The prize was not important. Amongst all the pedegrees, she won the prize. I am proud of her. Period. One of the happiest days of my life to be honest. We got her sterlized when she was one year old, but honestly, she taught me what it takes to be a mother. The most emotional situaiton of any mammal's life.

Billo Loves chicken. 

One life for another. Life Line. How Fair?

I had written this post after the intense situation of 24 hours that I underwent and now am filing this post, written long back; under the Indiblogger contest.

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Time: Almost 0200 hours.

Date: 12.09.2009

Day: Technically Sunday, from my perspective - extended Saturday night.

Place: Panvel Bus Depot - Maharashtra, India.

The situation:

Me and a couple of my Friends partied out and were having Anda Bhurji (kind of scrambled eggs). The bhurji was delicious and adequately spiced to bring in that mouth watering sensation. The artist, yes that guy makes an art form out of eggs rather than cooking actually, a master, had created a gem of a dish. A taste that does not fade away so easily and it lingers on. It holds you captivated in its ethereal form or edible form. Whatever.

We paid the bill and everything and were walking towards a sort of empty plot where we had parked our cars. Recently, Panvel has been bestowed with a humongous hospital; it looks directly to the Old NH4 and Bombay - Goa Highway. Its specialty is orthopedic and accident cases. It’s so huge and so vast and with so many beds that half the hospital - seems empty.

Sometimes I have wondered, would Hospital managements hire services of reckless drivers around the periphery of highway - say 20 Sq. kilometers and endanger other lives so that business would be good? Lot of twenty something aged freelance drivers would make good money, I thought. Recession hai bhai. You have to create jobs / opportunities. Did you guys know that hospitals pay Ambulances lavishly to bring in accident cases in to their hospitals alone? The business is tough you know.

Usually while driving I'm fairly pissed off at rickshaw drivers for actually breaking all written and implied rules of driving on the roads, but, I have observed that Ambulance drivers are the rashest of them all - a simple justification is enough for all; If we don't reach quick, people die.

Now back to my ranting - We were walking back to the parking area and a site fascinated us, which in India is as common as the tumblers in the lavatories. Couple of dogs were chilling around and one small puppy - probably 4/5 weeks old was following them everywhere; apparently the sole survivor from his lot. And mind you this is not the highway I am talking about, a sort of service road that runs parallel to the highway for about 500 meters.

From straight ahead an Ambulance came revving on the empty road with full lights and siren on. The hospital was 20 feet way. The strays noticed the danger to their fragile lives and ran hither tether. We yelled at the ambulance to stop, but, he did not pay heed to it. "Madar$%^& Gadi rok". I yelled. He stopped. The front tire had gone over that small puppy's hind portion. I tried to adjust the puppy, so that vehicle would not totally go over him. The Ambulance revved off.

Initially I behaved like a coward and started walking towards my car. Knowing fully what the fate of the puppy was going to be. The puppy dragged itself to side of the road. I came back to it. The driver came back as well, this is what transpired:

Driver: "Arrey Gali diya - woh javan ladka kafi serious tha (this we are talking 10 feet away from hospital).

Me: Isiliye Bachhon ki aap jaan loge.

Driver: Arre kya kare sahab 

Me: Kuch mat karo. Ghar jake so jao abhi - sirf yaad rakho, ek jaan bachane mein apni dusri jaan almost le li hai.

*He walks away*

I am now holding the puppy. I call up my friend and ask him to take me to the only under equipped, understaffed veterinary hospital managed allegedly by the benevolent government authorities. The sleeping watchman is well, sleeping. I wake him up and this is what transpires:

Me: Any Vet is there?

Watchman: No. The hospital has shifted. 

Me: So, Dr X does not come here daily?

Watchman: Yes, he does.

Me: So hospital has not shifted?

Watchman: No. It has not. 

Me: When will the doctor come?

Watchman: Tomorrow morning, but, it’s a Sunday. Sorry.

I ask my friend to take me home. I am still cradling the puppy. Mom wakes up and asks what this is? I tell her everything. Usually I consider myself to be a strong man. Strong men don't cry, they say. One time I was not strong at all.

I prepare a mixture of water and milk and try to feed the puppy with a dropper. Billo's (our family's pet bitch- I mean female Dog, err) milk bottle is nowhere to be found as it was displaced - say 3 years ago somewhere in the oblivion of what mom calls as her "Store Room". Things go there usually, not to be found later. Billo is now 4 years old in this September.

The puppy hungrily drinks a two or three refills of the tiny ink dropper. The he starts letting out the milk from his mouth. Looking at his abdomen, it was clear he had gotten pretty nasty internal wounds and both its hind legs were lull. There was no bleeding as such. The puppy moaned a little. Meanwhile mom prepared an empty carton box with towels etc and we kept the puppy in it, he moaned away to his sleep. I think.

Morning 0800 clock Mom tells me he is sleeping. Dad checks him and tells mom "Aga ha gela hai". "He is no more." I buried the puppy in the garden besides our house and put a small flower befitting his age and size.

I don't know whether it’s fair or not. Doctors and Hospitals allege they are in noble profession. Ye fucking ah. Is it justified to take one life for another? If you talk about value. Life is priceless for one and all. Do not attach the money part with component of Life I say.

My only request to all of you people who drive around and are pretty busy people all the while. Please do not be ignorant of surroundings and give due respect to all creatures around you. Because the jungle rule might be survival of the fittest, the urban jungle rule for animals is survival of the luckiest. The alpha male is unusually lucky, thus. Hence, my request. Every Dog has his day. Give him a chance to earn one. To live. To be Man's (and woman's) best friend.

Please also see these sites if you wish to adopt a pariah, do something for society:

http://www.wsdindia.org/pets.htm

http://indianpariahdog.blogspot.com/

The Surveyor Charming

First things first. This post below is part of contest about KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) Indiblogger

I work as an Marine cargo and hull and machinery Surveyor and a Loss Assessor/Adjuster and whenever there are damages notified under the policy of insurance (general Insurance), I visit the place and ascertain the cause, extent and nature of loss and submit my report on the damages and assessment of loss for underwriter's (Insurance company's people) considerations. That's my job profile.

Now starts the fiery fiction:

There was a case in Baramati, Maharashtra, where sugar canes were damaged due to deterioration and the claim was not payable owing to certain clauses in the policy. I told the customer so. He got so upset with me that he called the insurance company names and he called me a fox. A Wily Fox at that. He cursed me. He anathematized me to become and remain a fox until such a day when I would have to kiss a lady and she hit me in return, only then, would I turn back in to a human being again. I laughed it off. I said, "Had I been a frog,  Mortal, princess may have kissed me. But a fox? And besides, is this latth Holi? Bihari women hit their husbands with sticks on that day!

I could not control my laughter over this most insane curse while continuously  scratching my self. I was becoming more mindful of smells around me. My eyes were automatically searching for food, small herbivores and sugarcane of course...Far away behind me, I could see the customer insured smiling in peace, his eyes looking evilly serene. I growled. WTF? Growl? What was happening to me? Was I turning in to a fox..."damn", I said. Least I could turn in to a humongous ware wolf. Why a tiny little fox?

And then the transformation began. I was dancing as if undergoing catharsis. Everything inside me seemed changing. Except my brain. My brain was noting each and every aspect of this painful change and I was still me, inside my brain. In my brain the least. Thank God I thought. Or else, the curse would have remained forever as generally fox population are not known to kiss humans out of the blue and then get beaten for kissing them, they are usually beaten for entering the sugarcane forest and destroying the crop no ?

The worst part about transition was the ever growing itch to lick myself, scratch and then catch my own tail to bite the bloody ticks off. Yes, ticks. Incentives of the curse, I guess. So there I was standing now, looking totally like a fox, carrying a laptop case and smelling tires of my car. Could have easily blended in as a corporate fellow, but I somehow curbed my emotions.

The Sticky Situation: -

Now anybody would admit that a human being becoming a fox is a sticky situation to be in. One does not know what to do in such a scenario. No call centres for help too! So I decided to do what I do best, firstly, since I was in Baramati, Land of Sharad Pawar, I filled myself to the fullest and ate some more. Sugarcanes.But, eating and roaming around those lands got me noticing that that there were no women who would dare come near me. Infact, even before my Emraan Hashmi style intro, I was being either shooed away or I scared off people.

The Sharp Mind : -

So, I decided to migrate - from Sugarcanes (Baramati) to Nashik (grapes and vineyards) where metrosexy women throng the vineyards and I could fairly have chance to get close to them, meekly looking like a pomerarian...kiss plus some wine. Not a bad idea at all. Wily, eh! The idea was as brilliant as Himmesh Reshamiya singing, composing and acting in his own produced directed film and watching it alnoe. The idea was as brilliant as Emraan Hashmi getting paid to kiss and act in the film.

Now Have you ever seen in your life a Fox using a laptop and internet dongle to GPS his way across from Baramati - Pune - Nashik? Well, thats precisely how I was looking like. Thank god I did not win an I-pad for this and this. Life would have been miserable using the touch screen with those finger nails. The only thing I avoided were highways. The roadkills scared the shit out of me. I crossed the plains and the scenic beauty. Since these lands have cash rich crops the farmers were happy faced. Not like those cotton farmers. Foxes or politicans do not pay attention to such areas anyways. Its difficult to survive and sustain there. Jungle rule.

I did not forget to carry some sugar cane in my laptop case. Planning, see?

The Fiery Tongue : -

Distance from Baramati to Nashik would be somewhere about 10 days as the crow flies. Well, may be 15 days as the fox trots. Besides I was not an ordinary fox. I was used to the gymnasiums and the tread mills, but this was bloody different. Real walking. Who does that! So after this tumultuous journey I reached a vineyard and saw a group of people (LADIES) seeing the vineyard and going about.

I became restless in head, but calm. Like a carnivore hunter. I wanted to turn in to human again and the sudden rushing of blood and pumping of adrenaline could not be avoided. See, my head was still Human. I slowly and steadily crawling towards the group of ladies. I had set my target. She was a young twenty something girl. Long hair, glowing jet black eyes, a tad on brownish side. Sexy in her own way. She also looked somewhat the kind of person who would hit back if some fox came and tired to kiss her. She must definitely be from Delhi, thought me foxy mind.

So I went near her, cowering, ears down and tail in my hind and looked at her with an innocent gaze, as if I was expecting a glucose biscuit from her. She noticed me and came close to me. She crouched down to my level and started petting me, not literally. That was my idea. as soon as I leapt to kiss her and suddenly my wife pinched me.

The Reality : -

What the hell, I thought. I found my self back in human form and that too in a KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet) in Vashi, Navi Mumbai (Had I kissed that girl or no) ? Saw the empty fiery grilled chicken bucket in front of me and my wifey told me that I was about to kiss the bucket after finishing it. That's when she pinched me she said.

Strange things this fiery grilled chicken makes you think. Its like transcendental out of body meditation when eating the chicken at KFC.

Well, thats the story of a man day dreaming eating the best fried chicken in the world. Its not just finger licking good I think. Its ethereal and an art form of a food.

Ebhrebady Tak Like Thhiss

My recent trip to Banaras (Varanasi / Kashi) got me knowing that “Ebhrebady in Banaras tak like this”. Imagine Marylyn Brando chewing on a Banaras pan and saying “I will make them an offer they can’t refuse”. Now add heavy, no, very heavy Hindi accent to the same phrase and attempt to say it while chewing 2 pans and think that you have had the pan for the first time in your entire life and don’t know what to do with the spit so you keep it in your mouth until you figure it out what to do with the same, and then say “I bill make them an offher, they cain not refhuse”. Say it twice to get a ring. Now fall off your seat laughing. The spit will be gulped automatically. 

                This was my experience in Banaras when I stayed there for two whole days. It was amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed it. People there are very helpful and try to dupe you of every penny you have on you, helpful nonetheless. But they are not like those fuckers in Delhi who are not helpful at all and yet try to dupe you of your every single penny. Is there a fucking “Chutiya” written on my forehead or what?

                Furthermore, the roads are an utter chaos. If you have ever seen people drive in Pune, then multiply the same by 37.8 times and the result is traffic in Banaras. Roads are more like gallis and are filled with jaywalkers, cycles, cycle rickshaws, cows, rickshaws, vehicles, hand cart pullers, 2 wheelers, 4 wheelers, trucks and tempos and if still some space is left, hawkers. The rickshaws having capacity “3 idiots” are filled with minimum 6 idiots excluding the nut holding the steering. And I kid not, everyone is honking. It’s like pressing horns are going to get them salvation, as if it was a city pass time. Hence the term, Horn ok please.  I repeat every one. Cows are mooing too. The people I asked why they honked so much, he said it was to make other people listen and give side. But no one listens and hence everyone honks. Solid logic. Most roads are ram shackled and are hence known as Mayawati roads. The flights are good though. They frequent Mumbai. Shoe shopping you know. 

                Then I went on to the temple that Kashi / Banaras is famous for world over. The kashi Vishwanath ji temple. Dhatura fruits and Bhang is sold in front of the cops there. Eat that NDPS and Narco Cops. I stood in line and waited for divinity to engulf me. Over 20 Sadhus were chanting Om Namah Shivay in a resonant voice. That floored me completely. I started chanting too. The spirituality was short lived as the Prasad I had bought to offer to Lord and bring back home was stolen by freaking monkeys. Monkeys are known to steal Prasadam over there. Don’t yell out loud - if your husband’s name is Prasad. He might be taken and there would be so much that Liam Néeson could do. I almost bowed down to the lord and the fucking police rushed me out. Police sucks all over the world. I do not understand why social animals with lesser intelligence are allowed to handle matters that are crucial to society’s security. Alas. I also bought some chanting CDs which have pundits chanting Shiva Tandav Stortras and Rudra stotras. It’s bound to give goose bumps guaranteed. 

                From there on, I went on to Ganga ghat to get the feel. Not to forget I first bought paans. They have a queer style of making a paan. They put only katha & chuna and then give supari separately. What the fuck is that? This is like a software company selling you program in two different USB devices and then asking you to use both of them at the same time to allow the program to run. When I tried to show him the logic behind this absurdity, he said, he never thought over it actually. Must be a sales guy, there are exceptions to such sales guys tough. My jijaji is one. :)

                Okay so now on to the holiest river bank. I knew what I had to do. I got a tie. I tied it on my forehead. Ate 2 pans and started singing and dancing “chora Ganga Kinarewala”.  That’s when I started hearing Ram nam satya hai and over 5 corpses were brought to the ghat in line. What a downer. But that’s also the one of the reasons the ghat is famous for. Moksha. One dip in the river and you are freed from the eternal time cycle that a human is subjected to, owing to his karma passbook. And God’s auditors are bloody similar to the ones on earth. Fuckers don’t give any margin. Auditors are auditors. Banaras people pride on that too, they think the guy, Chitra-Gupta is from Banaras.  But nonetheless, this “antim sanskar” thing knocked me out of my Allahabad-ic euphoria and brought me back to reality. 

                Most of guys I met in Banaras told me one thing with pride that UP people learn politics in their mother’s womb. Not that I think it’s somehow insult to one’s mother. Especially when Krishna is known as epitome of politics and he had two. Irony No. 1. Furthermore, politics has got more to do with maintenance (Lord Vishnu) and looking at the infrastructure in UP, I must say that it is Irony no. 2. But nonetheless, since being in politics one does politics, then technically, when they say they know and do politics, I do not believe them. You get the drift right. 

                But, this was a fun trip and food was awesome. Chats, Khasta kachoris, Shahi Kachoris and what not. I loved every bit of my stay and would love to visit there back again for sure. If I have hurt sentiments of UP people by this post then please pardon me. I am just an observer. Don’t shoot the messenger. I did not mean to hurt any feelings.

Bhaiya aisa nahi hai. Wink wink. 

An Open Letter to an Open Letter!

Dear Open Letter, 

Lately, Indians, wait, E-ndians (this joke comes from @rameshshivats E-gypt joke), have been using you a lot and to some very good use because of the atrocities they had to undergo like Arundhati Roy, Digvijay singh and Ra.one. But, then God thought this wasn't funny/sarcastic enough and wanted us to crack some lawyer jokes and lo and behold...Kapil Sibbal come out and talks stuff. Pure, un-adulterated, grade A, BULLSHIT.. Screen this, in the land, where LCDs and LEDs are sold at Rs. 1000.00 per square inch and houses at Rs. 5000.00 per square feet.

So, beware. For, open letter, your days are numbered and you might be screened. You would apparently be opened before being open and then if they (ever watchful government - who have minutely watched inflation go up, growth rate go down, corruption increase manifold and many such other mundane travesties that a comman man man faces on a daily basis) thought you were obscene, like a Rahul Gandhi's idea for quota to Muslims prior to elections in U.P; and should be banned forever. 

Ok, how many lawyer's does it take to draft an open letter? 

Zero. Because, lawyers do not do anything unless paid!

Dear Open Letter, let me tell you why the need to be snooping on to google, face book, twitter and blogs as Mr. Kapil Sibal sees it. I sympathise with the guy. 

When an allegedly corrupt & non-performing government, led by a man, who practically has no say whatsoever in matters important to the nation, has no control over his cabinet; re-shuffles it three times a year thinking democracy is permutation-combination for the people, by the people, to the people, knows that the only way people can vent out their frustration and exercise their constitutional right of freedom of expression by means of Internet, social-networking, satirical poems, hasya kavita, twitter, blogs and open letters, government understands the urgent need to screen such stuff and ban and delete it. I think this is fair on part of government to think and almost officially speak via its EX-HUMAN RESOURCE MINISTER & current minister of communications and IT - Mr. Kapil Sibal. Mr. Sibal has also changed his ministries more times than the word "change" appearing in Mr. Barrack Obama's speeches. This trait further makes him a strong contender for post of PM.

I think our PM has no panache. He does not even change his safari suits three times a day (Like Mr. Shivraj Patil)...How un-fashionable is that. Mr. Sibal should be made the Prime Minister. He has got in him. He wears pink shirts inside his suits. Plus, his eye-brows say it all. He means business. Serious stuff. Our PM rarely wears suits (non-Nehruvian suits - as if he is commanded to wear it). Our PM does not even have eye-brows. Not Serious.

Open Letter, I do not like people calling Kapil Sibal an idiot. He remotely seems like a person of subnormal intelligence. But then again, he is a lawyer. That too, in the supreme court. People get slapped there, you know. Also, bombs are exploded outside such institutions. All because of social media, me thinks. One random guy makes hate speech against government and another random one blows up a building. Solid wi-fi social media connection there. 


I think Government should also ban Lalbaug cha Raja Ganesh Utsav in Mumbai. After all, if so many people throng there in an attempt for divine intervention to solve their problems, solving problems becomes a problem (for any agency including the divine one). So the best way to solve the problem is by banning the Mahostav. That way, people will not come there to get their problems solved and there would not be any problems. See. There is not an iota of idiocy over here in this argument. Even a Notary could have deduced this. hahahah. Those who understand irony will know that this is remotely idiotic :

So open letter, I suggest you hide someplace. maybe like in a real letter and reach Mr. Kapil Sibal somehow. Stamps would probably help you. No, not the rubber ones that a lawyer uses, they will scarcely help. TCP/IPs are risky right now to travel through. may be floo powder. Reach the Ministry of Magic, HRD ministry, Shastri Bhavan, Dr. Rajendra Prasad Road, India. Tell him how proudly Indians like me support him and are all ears for the intelligent talking that he does on T.V. The pink shirt rocks too dude...

Disclaimer: This post has been published according to the standards that are adhered in the west...including the sanitary ones. This post is Kalmadi and Raja proofed twice ji.