Berry Christmas

We wish all our friends and readers of S.C.O.F.F. a Very vEry meRry merRy Christmas Christmas. Thank you for all the anonymous support & comments over the past year. A big thank you to all those who read our tripe. Hope to see you guys in the coming year too.



Lots of love
---FOS, EW & MM

The 8th of December

I will remember this day for enternity. Not only was it Morrison's b'day, but it also marked the begining of a wedded life for my friend Gleeson, who was a founding member of our school group that we proudly and bemusingly called 'OCG' or the Original Chill Group.

The birth anniversary or even the marriage are not the reasons why I'll remember the night. It is because of the incidents that occured after the reception. Below is an account of the evening and the ghastly events that followed the evening.

17:00 hrs: Mom urges me not to take the bike out as I was immaculately dressed in my only suit. But obstinate as I am, I just refused to heed and left for Rydels (another of the founding members of the OCG) place. The idea was to meet up and leave for the venue of the reception to help decorate and lay down the table pieces/give aways. It also meant skipping mass. Rydel & Savio were waiting for me in Rydel's car.

18:00 hrs: Reach the venue; Rydel, Sav and me set the entire thing up, covering around 100 tables and cursed the people who we were supposed to supervise for not arriving at all.

19:00 hrs: Congratulations all around as Gleeson arrives with his wife. He commends our efforts and tells me to hit the bar right away as a sign of gratitude.

00:30 hrs: Marriage has surpassed everyones expectations and I'm 6 pegs down. People (read friends from school) are discussing the expenses involved and the cost of marriages these days. I blame inflation and the governmant but no ones listening to me. We leave the place after bidding Gleeson adieu.

00:45 hrs: Reach malad in record time and people call it a night. Savio, who did not get his bike along requests me to drop him to his place.

01:00 hrs: We reach Savio's building and I have this dying urge to smoke the last ciggarette that's lying in my pocket. I ask Savio to wait till I finish and he obliges, discussing his life on the ship. We are joined by two more of our friends who incidently work with Savio on the same ship. These guys were riding on a beautifully done up bullet.

01:30 hrs: We were rudely interrupted by 3 guys who were just a few paces behind us, enjoying a drink inside the building. They wanted us to SHUT UP. We just ignored them but the persistent bastards came back to announce that we were making too much noise and the folks in the society are getting disturbed. Savio calmly tells them that he will handle the complaints if any. But the persistent twats continue arguing and started swearing at Savio, his mom, his sister and his entire family. An infuriated Savio showed the quickest of hands by socking one guy on the face. This marked the wierdest reaction from the other two of his cronies. They picked up bamboo sticks and attacked Savio. So here starts a one-on-three kinda situation- something that i detest. A blow from the stick on Savio's nose (which broke and statred to bleed profusely) brought me into action. I jumped into the fight inorder to help calm the situation, rescue Savio and if possible 'haat-saaf' on a couple of them atleast. But as I was entering, I get a strong blow on my hand, my magnificently carved triceps.

01:35 hrs: Watchamn of the building hands me my phone and my keys. All I remember is that I'm being carried towards my bike. The watchman hands me a bottle of water to drink from, i take a sip but I can't swallow. I spit out some wierd red coloured liquid. It took me a second to realize that the liquid was nothing but my blood. I wipe my face and my hands are bloody. I take a good look at myself and I see that my shirt is red, my suit and my tie are soaked with blood. I'm pissed....absolutely fuckin' pissed. I then start questioning myself (survival tricks learnt in manipal & from the movies) "What's your name?", "Where do you stay?", "How did you get here?" etc. I did get most of the answers riht and then the trauma kicked in

01:36 hrs: I scream out to Savio, "What the fuck happened?" No response, Savio is on the phone. One of the friends (the guys on the bullet) comes running back screaming that the guys who hit us have caught an auto and escaped. I'm even more pissed. "What happened to me?" I ask. "Dude, they hit you on the head and you passed out." says one of them. I'm red now, not because my face is all bloody, it was plain ire. "What the fuck were you guys doin - watching?" I screamed as loud as I could. But it was all over.

01:37 hrs: I'm on my bike, washing my face and the back of my head. I can feel the lumps that have formed and I'm only thinking of vengeance. No one had ever drawn my blood before and I wasn't going to let these guys off lightly for being the first to do so.

01:40 hrs: Two cars come to a screeching halt. Our friends had arrived with batons, rods and whatever and whoever they could find. But like I said earlier it was a wasted effort. The cunts had already escaped.

01:45 hrs: I tell the guys that I want to go to the hospital. We take a detour to the cop station, give an account of what happened and then leave for the govt. hospital thats close by.

02:00 hrs: Puke out of the car.

02:05 hrs: Reach the hospital, vomit again. Start abusing on the top of my voice. One doc comes out and asks me to shut the fuck up, but agrees to take a look at me first. Injuries on the top of my head, stitches required at the back of my head, bruises on my nose, above the right eyebrow and below the right eye. The doc then asks me the mandatory questions like "Can you see?", "Can you hear me?" etc. I mumble my affirmation when all I wanted to tell him was get on with it. I hate doctors and despise hospitals which is not new if you are an engineering student from Manipal and had to go to KMC for any god damn treatment, only to be tended by students who look at you as some sort of guinea pig. I wasn't going to be this guys experiment. He direts me towards the treatment room and then asks me to get an X-ray done.

02:07 hrs: A lady calls me in and threatens me with a razor. All she wanted was to shave patches off my head so that only the wound is exposed. I kick up a fuss, even threaten to walk out. I love my locks too much and I'd rather die than have them touched, forget chopped. The doc intervened a second time, and told me that he will throw me out which would mean that we will not get a report to file (it was really important that we get a report from these guys to file a case)and my friends cajoled me into getting my tresses cut.

02:10 hrs: I'm all patched up.

02:15 hrs: X-ray of the head (front and side profile) taken.

02:30 hrs: X-ray shown to the doc, who says everything is normal but I'll have to wait for the nuero-surgeon. In the meanwhile, the nurse injects me with a tetanus shot.

02:40 hrs: Nuero-surgeon arrives and the same questions are repeated. I answer all of them and then he tells me that nothing can be said till I get a C.T. scan done, for which I'll have to be admitted. I refused to spend the night in that forsaken place and told them that I'm willing to do it someplace else. They asked me to sign the same mundane shit that they will not be responsible for anything that happens further and I'm on my own. I gladly and readily obliged. Oh yeah! Savio was patched up too and started joking about the fact that I didn't want to get my head shaved. I reminded him that with hair as beautiful as mine, I'd kill anyone before they got close. I thought he saw the seriousness in my face before shutting the fuck up but I looked really scary after being patched up.

02:45 hrs: We are back in the car and travelling back to the spot of the incident. I puke again.

03:00 hrs: Reach Savio's building. Now theres a crowd of 25 odd people. Everyone came one by one to ask how I was doing. The same joke of how I refused to get my hair chopped off was circulating around. Someone offers me a beer, I refuse. A ciggarette is shoved close to my face, I refuse again. Everyone's astonished.

03:30 hrs: We go the cops again with the findings of the govt hospital. He takes a look at it, then looks at me (I'm groggy and sore), then turns to Savio and announces, "This is a half-murder case." That was music to my ears, even though I was never in doubt (EW had a similar case on him - like I said in my previous post, I'm supposed to ask him to write his account on that). Since the guys who beat the shit out of me (I hate saying this as it's deflating to the ego) were hiding, we went to their houses and put their fathers behind bars in order to get their sons out. The cop then advised me to get the C.T. scan done as asked by the docs back at the hospital.

04:00 hrs: Head home with Rydel to inform my folks about the incident and to get some cash for the scan. Mom's worried, paranoid and a few other mixed emotions that are expected in this kind of situation. After reassuring her that it wasn't my fault, I'm not the one who will be put behind bars and that I'm hurt and need a scan to confirm that nothing's wrong with my brain (This part is a little lost to my friends who still tease me about not having anything inside)

04:30 hrs: After roaming most of my area in search of hospitals/clinics that have a C.T Scan facility, we finally came across one that was thankfully open 24/7. Entered the place and demanded that I'd be scanned. The guy was very helpful and put me under the scanner. The doctor arrived and announces a few minutes later that nothing was wrong with the insides but I have a hair line fracture just above my right eyebrow. Some consolation! Anyways we spent an hour there before jumping into the car that was to take us home.

05:30 hrs: While in the car we get a call from the cops telling us that the three guys have surrendered and their dads have been sent home. "Now!" I thought to my self "The fun's gonna start now." We reached the station and Gavin and Rydel literally pounced on those guys. Some cop at the station intervened and threatened to put these guys behind too. That stopped everyone and I could sense the fear in the culprits. In the meanwhile we got news that these guys and their family have bribed some other cop to intervene on their behalf and persuade us to not file any case. But I refused to budge, I wanted to file a case and teach these motherfuckers a lesson. Luckily for us we had the 'pehchaan' of a top cop in Mumbai so the bad cop (the one on their side) didn't have any say in the matter. This was a cue for the father of one of guys to start pleading their case. He tried, moving from one to another, to whoever was willing to listen, begging us to show mercy towards his sons. After some point I couldn't take his ranting and screamed back at him in total bollywoodish style. I asked him to replenish the blood I had lost, Get rid of my hair line fracture then and there, then and only then will I not file a case against the kids. This finally shut the father. The cops finally decided to file a F.I.R. against the trio after much haggling.





that's me all patched up (Concentrate on the bruised parts and not on the double/triple chins. This New Year's resolution is to add exercise in my hectic schedule)




We finally finished by 9 in the morning and I left the rest of the gang to just rest. I dunno when I fell alseep but it seemed quite long marred by gorry images of me dripping blood and getting beaten up all over again for a sillier reason.

The sad part was that I didn't wake to anything better. Arsenal lost to Boro that evening. Crap! It just couldn't get crappier.

I don't even know what to think about now that three weeks have gone by and my scars are turning darker and making me look sexier (ha! I wish!). All I can blame is the karma police. Maybe I did somethng horribly wrong to deserve this kind of treatment. But anyways I'm thankful to the force above that I wasn't crippled for life or paralyzed or anything in between. Also like my mom keeps remiding me, I should listen to them once in a while. If I hadn't taken the bike, I wouldn't have dropped Savio to his place and I wouldn't have got hammered by those guys. 'Ifs' and 'buts' don't matter at the end. I have no remorse regarding that fateful night but I'll make sure that the guys who beat me up will regret their actions for the rest of their lives.



(From l to r) Savio & me celebrating the first week anniversary of the fight at a friends bachelor party at Aksa.

*COPS*

Back by popular demand and the itch to write about something absolutely hair raising that boredom impregnates in an idle brain. I don't know if this post will have that effects on people but what the hell, read this anyways. I said READ!!

The story that I'm about to recount is absolutely fresh in my mind and it's coming to you guys because of a drunken conversation I had with EW a few days back. After a round of drinks and a coupla Js, EW and I got nostalgic about Manipal, how much we missed being in Manipal and how we wished we'd still be in college to live that wild life.

Prelude: This takes place when my parents were absolutley fed up with the type of life-style I was leading and decided to put me up in the Church Hostel. I wasn't enjoying my time in this self proclaimed 're-hab' because a) Miracle Monger was my rommie (it was fun but there were times when we drove each other nuts and the two of us combined and made life hell for the priest incharge) and b) there were no fuckin' western loos to relieve yourself. So if you guys know my habits then this was a major hindrance. Squatting is something that I abhor so I would go to EW's apartment every morning for my morning duties and then head out to college.

Characters: Introducing Minni, weighing in at (max) 100 pounds and standing just around 5 feet tall. (I'm sure most of you are familiar with our friend Minni, the man who knows no fear but is a pussy when faced with life threatning situations.)

In the opposite corner I give you 'Pedro', weighing around 100 pounds again but around 5 feet and 10 inches.
Now, Pedro was our senior (just a year older than us) and any resemblance to a goan is coincidental and not fictitious at all. He walked, talked and drank like a local goan goon and I'm proud to say that he is my role model when it comes to drinking and smoking up at the same time.

Then there was me, who at that time weighed around 120 pounds and stood 5 feet and 11 inches tall. The other extras present during the scene were EW, Leo (Leo is the darkest and laziest man on earth and I can say this without fear 'cos he never reads this blog out of sheer laziness) and Red. Red is this extremely rich undi, undi: colloquial for andhrites back then and even now!) whose car Pedro borrowed and without whom this story might have never taken place.

Pic follows to give you guys a perspective of the names that I'll be dropping and a birds eye view of the place.



So coming back to that night. The water in EW's apartment went missing for two days prior to this incident. Pedro arrived in the evening for a few smokes, drinks and to catch up on old times. Minni and I were extremely hygenic hippies and decided to pack up at EW's after all the bottles were emptied and all the Rs 35/- packs of 'Nitya the great' were smoked, we called it off to the disaapointment of the extras of this story. EW actually wasn't bothered about his state as he has never till date smelt himself. There were reports of mysterious faintings around the neighbourhood. Experts discovered that there was a strange odour but none of it was traced back to EW. Leo as usual was lazy so he didn't want to come to take a bath even though he was feeling like tottenham hotspur fans (just like shit). Pedro offered us a lift in the car and we obliged, then we strated taunting EW and Leo about the benefits of a luxurious hot water bath. All we had to do was drive down around 500 mts but as usual no one would ever dream in their wildest dream what was about to happen next.

Just about 10 mts away from the CH, there was a patrol jeep doing something that they are actually paid for - they were checking for registration of the vehicles that were passing by. Pedro notices this and comes to a screeching halt, which attracts the attention of the three cops scanning the papers of a bike. Pedro looks nervously towards us and lets us know that the car doesn't have any papers. In the stoned stupor we tell him it's alright and crack a small joke, but the weed, booze and the fucked up joke triggred something in Pedro's brain which then sent a strong signal to his leg adn there we were - minni and me - screaming. Unfortunately for us the signal from Pedro's brain was to slam the accelerator of the car. I immideatly started begging Pedro to "Stop!" in all the shrill voices that I had after noticing that the cops jumped into their jeep and started following us. And stop was Pedro did next and asked the two of us to jump out right in front of the CH. I wasn't in the mood of jumping out and neither was Minni. By now the cops were right behind us and the only words that came out of my mouth were "Pedro Rip!". From behind I heard a faint voice, staing the obvious, the quivering voice of Minni saying "We're FUCKED!!"

All I could think of at that moment was 'America's Wildest Police Chases' and I prayed people, yes I, I prayed to all the Gods that I could remember at that moment. I strapped the seat belt on and asked Pedro to do the same but he was not in the mood of listening now, was he? Anyhoo, Pedro navigated the car through the thin and dug up lanes with the aplomb of a F1 driver. We passed through Syndicate Bank - Main Branch, Tiger Circle, raced across LC, Turned towards Press Carts and this where I thought we lost the cops. But then as usual, fate would have it another way. Red hadn't serviced his car for ages and it just refused to pick up on a slope. So there they were my friends, the cops right on our ass. I poked my head out of the window only to see that the cops had now switched their sirens on. Every action has a equal and opposite reaction and the reaction in our camp was to start screaming "Pedro rip! Pedro rip!". Pedro responded to these chants by speeding and speeding till we reached back to where we started from. I joked as we passed Sigma (our local bar which Miracle Monger frequented. They have a bust of him there. No jokes, go checkoit out yourselves. He is prayed to out there for giving them too much business) "Do we need another round of booze?". No one found it funny, I didn't think they would but I crack the most brilliant jokes in the most fucked up of moments where no one finds them funny. I wonder whats wrong with me? Alright without any more deviations and twists, we passed by EW's house once again with sirens blazing. I must admit that usually cops know what they are doing and these guy at the wheel was certainly not a rookie. Oh yeah! we passed by EW's place and then took the turn that led us to RED's place. We jumped straight out of the car and started banging on Red's door. Red seeing the chaos and the cops in tow, switched of all the lights in the house and locked the door from inside thus rendering the keys that Pedro borrowed from him earlier ineffective.

NOw, it so happened my friends that one of the cops got of the jeep and came straight for me (as i was the last one among those struggling to get into the house). He asked in kannada "Who was driving?" I replied back in kannada "Got illa!" ("Dunno!"). I got such a tight slap from,such a hard one, from fuck knows which hand, but my jaws rattled and I got the 'Doordarshan Sound' resonating in my ears. I immediately showed him towards Pedro. He pushed both Minni and me outside where his superior was waiting and began to work on Pedro. The same question was repeated outside and even the right answer was rewarded with a slap. Even the SI went after Pedro, Minni and I were left at the mercy of the third cop with the other two whacking the day lights out of Pedro. The third cop had an extremely tough time getting hold of us as Minni and me were runnig in opposite directions around the car that was parked outside the house. Even when he did get hold of either of us we would jump and evade his kicks and blows. After a frustrating 10 mins of trying to hit us, the cop asked us to sit down and the other two also stopped beating Pedro. All our eyes met at the exact moment and we just couldn't control our laughter. The cops too had mellowed down and joined us, but not before hurling the sweetest and choisest of abuses. They also mentioned in passing that if we would have dragged the chase for 15 agonizing minutes more or even thought about drifiting towards the highway, they wouldn't have hesitated to open fire. Pedro admitted rather sheepishly that the thought did cross his mind but the cars rather empty fuel tank prevented him from taking that measure. Imagine that my homies, I would have been in an orbituary column but escaped with no briuses and scratches to tell the tale only because the car didn't have fuel. Thank God for exhorbitant fuel rates.

Anyway, alls well that ends well is the motto of our lives and this did end well with Pedro paying around a grand for crimes agiainst humanity. Actually we were booked for evading arrest and not having the proper papers in place. Oh yeah I forgot to mention that I showed them my ATM card as ID proof which was followed by another round of swearing.

That's all for the day my friends. This story may serve as a lesson for most but the moral that we drew were never to drive a car that hasn't been seviced. On a more serious note, this incident has left me even more paranoid about cops whenever I'm stoned 'cause they are excellent fuckin' drivers so theres no way to escape them. So just face the consequences rather than running away. Alrightie, I'll get back to boredom that some how hasn't killed me as yet. I'll be back with another post on how EW got arrested for attempt to murder in just a while, I promise. Till then PEACE OUT!!

PS: The map that I've drawn is too fuckin small and I'm too lazy to resize it and repost. So just click on it for a larger version. Peace.

BOCK ROTTOM

And no…this is not a bad word! It all began on a certain Friday evening when a couple of friends decide to get out and paint the town red rather than visiting our friendly neighborhood bar. Add a friend’s birthday to this and voila we have a reason to celebrate, which otherwise would still be a celebration but with no defined purpose, not that I’m saying we need a purpose, since either ways purpose or no purpose we still end up bottle worshiping, just that it sounds better when you have an reason to say cheers. So like I was saying, it all started with everyone heading to a friends house to warm up for the party ahead. A few drinks down and causal chat turned into rapid banter and as the number of attendees rose, led to hysterics. Random posing for photos with vague while urging the ladies to groom themselves faster kept the boys busy. The night’s destination was Rock Bottom, a suburban discotheque, also instinctively christened Bock Rottom by a certain enthusiastic Parsi friend of ours. Personally, I prefer the latter with extra emphasis on the double t’s. Once there, it took us a while to get grooving. Fat old son once again took initiative in the field he has the most expertise…..directing people to the bar! A couple of beers down, and our bodies began to sway gracefully to the music, once again lead by Fat old Son, who took to the floor faster than a man to a naked woman. To say a word about the music….hmmmmm….it sucked! Don’t these Dj’s ever listen to the music themselves before subjecting us to it? One look at them on their pedestals doing the not-so-cool hip hop moves makes you want to fling something hard at them. However we didn’t let their lack of talent dampen our spirits and we shook and boogied the night away. As the night turned into a very late night, it brought an end to an enjoyable evening, and a start to the constant stress of being caught by cops for drunken driving, or worse by our moms!




A natural poser, isnt he??



K...not so natural now..!!!



Hmmmm...what was i thinking while posing for this?????



Shiny happy...drunk people..



Fat old son.. wondering why the hell am i subjecting them to this torture..!!!!

Some Pics from Me Phone: Goa Trip

These are the pics of my Goa trip in July (I guess). I rate this trip as one of my best simply because it wasn't season so everything was cheap, the beaches were empty and plus Minni was sponsoring. I was also a slaried man now, so I had the license to spend. Goa had just been hit by torrential rains, the repercussions of which were felt the next day.

As usual it started off when I heard myself say, "I don't believe I'm doing this!" Minni and Hem called me on a Thursday evening asking me for an account number to deposit money so that I can leave the next day. I emotionaly blackmailed Leo-our absconding-when-in-mumbai friend to join me on this weekend escapade convincing him that Minni is sponsoring the trip. So I get up on Thursday morning, pack my bags, wish my folks good bye, call my office to report in sick and have a conference call with the people in manipal and Leo to decide if we should take the bus or the train to reach Panjim. At the end of the protracted discussion, Leo and me had already reached Kurla and found ourselves parked in the AC compartment of the train (A first for me while going to Goa, I must admit).

Somewhere in the Konkan


Crossing at Kolad


A view of Kolad Station
(This was strange 'coz a month later I found myself chilling at an adventure camp with my sooper coool colleagues somewhere close by. Coincidence? Super-intelligent-intuitive-woman-colleague does think so)



At 1 that morning we arrived at Madgaon and found the rest of the gang chillin near the tea stall on the 1st platform. And after some futile bargaining, we hailed two cabs (All of us - a total of 9 people wanted to enter one vehicle) for Anjuna, our favorite hunting ground. Goa had been subjected to incessant rain and strong winds. I was happily recounting EW's and my experiences in Mumbai to the driver as nobody else cared to listen. We knocked on Mary's Guest House at around 4 in the morning and went straight to our rooms. Smokes and chillums followed till around 6 and we left the shelter of our rooms in search of some tea. But Goa being Goa, we didn't find any tea and ended up drinking beer instead. At around 9 we scored and the madness began.

Mary's in the morning
(Each of us is wondering what to do next as the rains had stopped for some time)



Beer at 6:30 in the morning
(If you look closely, Leo is indicating 6, Hem has 3 marked out and Minni is displaying 0)


Mary's from the outside
(I'm sure Mary's guest house is famous with MITians)


Anjuna as seen from Hanuman Shack


From l to r: Vani, Farah & Mimi(Strange name & strange woman)


Leo in Sepia
(I wish I knew how to rotate this using code: Oye! flash guy come here! It's good to be king. Oh even he doesn't know)


Our trip took us here, there and everywhere around Anjuna and after having our fill, we left for Baga. My trip ended when I saw the rough seas and rougher pot bellied men of all Indian colours patrolling the beaches. We spent some time at Souzas where we realized that Minni had run out of money and my salary for the month had not yet come. We called up each and every Tom Dick and Harry we knew to start deposioting money and some people did help. Some people were wondering how we can spend all our money and some simply screamed and hung up. Wow! But everything happens for the best and my sal came in by 7, so to celebrate, we made Hem take a pilot back to Anjuna to reinstate our supplies. Sending Hem was a pert of my plan to convince Leo to travel to Manipal from there. At around 8 in the evening Hem was found happily smiling, with a king's in one hand and a strip of my fav: N's in the other plus a assortment of other things totally banned by law. No more convincing was required for me. I spoke to Leo in my sweetest toungue and at the heights of the N trip. It took some time but Leo relented in the end. I heard myself say once again, "I don't believe I'm doing this!" and ended up catching the night train to Manipal.

I woke up to vociferous cries of "Chut! u were supposed to wake us up." Hem was almost at blows with Jabs (Who looked just as sleepy as me. And there is no mention of him earlier because somehow he was not part of our group at all and he conned me, yes me, off monies. I do not forget nor forgive such guys. So did Mimmi but I'm sure the amount of Special K she does will get her anyways. So I leave her to Satan). Yeah! we did end up at M'lore and then caught a bus to reach Manipal in time as the girls had their classes at 8 in the morn. This was Saturday I guess. Forgive my lack of sense of time. We did manage to make it and when we reached our rooms, the news reader was mentioning something about floods, landslides between Goa and Manglore. We know why we reached Manglore but how was the biggest mystery. Anyways here we were stuck in 'Home Sweet Home'. Popped a blotter in the morning, then another one at night and left by flight on Sunday, absolutely clueless about how I reached Mumbai (I was carrying a tola in my wallet which was screened twice because I was carrying 3 bottles from Goa. Freakishly insane experience I tell you, sweaty palms et al.) But the trip was worth every freakin' penny.

So if you ever hear yourself say "I don't believe I'm doing this!" don't worry and just chill. Everythings gonna be alright...just get up stand up...alright gotta go...

Hmm...something more to add!

Oh shoot! (That's how the IT guy at my office says oh shit! He has substitutes for fuck but that later) I forgot to mention how my bike managed to convert GG to pick up a swanky new ThunderBird. He is not the only one and I'm hoping to convert more people than the missionaries manage out in the jungles of India...Oopsie! But you can read his experience here. Picked her from the dealer on Saturday and I tok her out for a small spin as GG hadn't carried his helmet or his lisence. And yes! we did drink to our hearts content to celebrate the occasion. Elegantly Wasted was wasted and missing in action for some reason that I cannot comprehend. But this is all I wanted to add. Pics will follow as soon as the bike is registered with the transporting authorities.

Cya guys later.

India nailed it! Gooners are not doing badly either!

Wow! There are ways to watch a match and sitting in a crowded bar with a lot of crazy drunks screaming away is not one of them. Unfortunately GG and I were stuck for most of Pakistan's innings at Harmeet, our regular and local bar with crazy town. Yes I'm talking bout the match that saw India lift the T20 WC. T20 huh! Well I think I'll be killed by own family first, then my friends and then those crazy drunk guys if I say that I'm still in doubt if I should be proud of the fact that India did manage to lift another World Cup after 24 years. So what if it was in a crap but exciting form of the game. Oxymoron! cries out my evil twin. She is just learning grammar but thats beside the point. India did win something and salvage some pride in the cricketing world after years of shouldering the tag of under-achievers.

This form of the game is terribly exciting, gets over extremely fast (3 and half hours I guess) but is harsh on the bowlers. I sympathize with them because I too used to be a slow-medium-fast pace bowler who has got hammered all over the place. I got so hammered, so hammered that the booze after the games had no effect on me. But give me a test match over any other form of the game. I'll savour a test match anyday because a test match is a test match. It's a test of character, adaptibility, fitness and mental strength of a cricketer. Also you can flip channel after channel, sip beer after beer and the score won't change. Gives me a feeling that time has stopped. Guess thats one reason why I love test matched. Alas! the one day format killed the test match and T20 might just kill the one day format.

Anyways I'll be kiddin myself if I state that I didn't enjoy watching India trash (even though it was a close fought contest, I want to use 'trash' as the opponents were our freindly neighbours) Pakistan. When India beat Australia, Dhoni was asked by Ravi Shastri "So India-Pakistan final. How do you feel about this?" If I were MSD, I would have answered "G***d marenge s****n ki!" but we got to be politically correct in this age of political correctness and non violence. We also need to be friendly towards our over friendly neighbour. But alls well that ends well and I sure that's what the entire nation feels at the moment. I was indeed overjoyed and did a little jig in the aisle but quickly backed off to avoid the crazy drunk guy no. 1's hugging spree. Then there were others who asked the sardar who owned the bar to join in their little dance but the sardar shyed away like a newly wed bride. I wonder where his mind was at. Was he worried that GG and I would slip out without paying in all that chaos that was engulfing him? I know not. But good for the team who got a lot richer thanks to the $2 mn dollars donation for winning and congrats to Yuvi for the additional cash for hitting 6 sixes in an over. He was the pick of the players I guess and deserved the man of the tournament for his heroic displays.

Enough of cricket. Let's talk about the beautiful game for some time because and only beacuse there is this team that is sitting pretty on top of the Barclays Premier League. No prizes for guessing, that's the team I support and its good to see that becasue its been a while since this feat was achieved by the mighty Gooners. We as a club had come in for bit of slack by other fans and our own for not investing, for selling of titi among other things and now there is boardroom turmoil to consider too. But its great that the players are not affected and they are playing ferarless, free flowing and the most attractive football on the planet. Hats off to le proffeseur for turning it around and proving his detractors totally and positively wrong. Well if the team keeps this going then who knows will have a lot to cheer this season.

Cheers!

Yeah this blog actively supports the misdoings of one Arsenal FC. We also support FC. Barcelona and AC Milan but they are crap compared to the gooners! Go Reds! Cheers once again. Till we get drunk again or till India lifts another WC. I'm sure my getting drunk will happen earlier!

Love from all at S.C.O.F.F.!

All Apologies

What else should I be
All apologies
What else could I say
Everyone is gay
What else could I write
I don't have the right
What else should I be
All Apologies

Yeah! that's what I'm right now...All Apologies to my dear friend Elegantly Wasted. I have been calling him Elegantly Stoned for no apparent reason at all. Stoned. wasted, what's the fuckin' difference man. They two different words to express a certain fuckin' state of mind man. Why am I talking like Leo from That 70's Show? You tell me man.

Update time: Where do i start. We had my firm's 4th Anniversary Party on Monday. Yes! it was excellent. I opened the bar and stayed on till there was not a drop to drink. I chased women around trying to capture them on my cam using all angles as possible and the best part is that they still talk to me like nothing happened. God blesss them! I love them girls here for exactly that. By the end of everything, I was in no state to ride the bike home and have no recollection of how I got home in the first place.

What else...let's see...Yes! I have begun yet another attempt at giving up nicotine and am fairly successful till now. Only screw up is that I'm hooked on to these herbal thingies called 'Nirdosh'. Farcical & Ironic. But that's life I guess. How long am I going to live anyways.

Well there's another get together tonite too. Phil's back from Oz land and has got a bottle of J&B for us to finish first and then get back to some Indian Malt. Elegantly Wasted (That's your name right?) unfortunately can't make it today due to family committments. My evil twin is extremely thrilled because of that.

So until we get stoned and wasted with some elegance, you guys enjoy the choisest of photos. Caio!

The Super Chilled Out Group


Another One of the Super Chilled Out Group


Just for the sake of it

Amchi Mati....Amchi Manus

Let me begin with a GENTLE REMINDER to Fat Old Son. "Brother, its Elegantly Wasted not Elegantly Stoned......not that I can't be called Elegantly Stoned... but lets be subtle here shall we".

So let me see, the past couple of months have been quite eventfull for the two sole herga survivors here in bombay, possibly the best time we've had ever since we've passed out of Manipal. Two tattoos, a bike, a trip to Kolad, and most importantly sharing the same desk at a workplace. Aaaah....blissful times are so welcome. A month of working in Learning Mate saw us through schedule that went like this.

Officially enter at 10.30 am.........Unofficially at whatever time u feel like.
A smoke break at 10.35 am that can go on for as long at 11.15.
Work for 15 min...or at least pretend to.
Chat with friends ...colleagues or even urself for as long as 30 min.
Another smoke break for 30 min.
Lunch break for 1 hour.
Smoke break again for 15 min.
Chat for 20 min.
Work for 5 min.
Smoke break again 15 min.
Have a meeting for 30 min to discuss when should the next meeting be called to tackle the issue to be dealt with in this meeting.
Have another meeting where the group head tells us how the other departments feel that our group has an attitude issue to which all of us have the same reply........GAAND MARRA!!!
Smoke break again for 20 min.
Discuss important issues like what are we going to do when all the continents join together.
Work 5 min.
Display immense will power when colleage brings up the topic of going to drink.
Reject collegues request to drink again.
Colleague goes home.
We go to drink.

Now can anyone blame us when we say we are TIRED at the end of the day.

It goes without saying that I miss those days, as this is the first time in my life i have ever made good friends this fast. Of course the credit does go to Fat Old Son for the endless briefings given. Nevertheless, he is still there and I dont think i will be forgotten this soon as a part of me still lingers there.

Tattos were quite a welcome change in our mundane lives, which promoted us from the label "Useless" to "Useless but Cool". A hearty thanks to our tattoo artist and very good friend who really did a fabulous job. Now all that needs to be done is someone has to invent backless shirts for us to show it off.

And as the famous saying goes "Alls well that ends well". Those days, im sure are beautifully etched and at times I still feel the taste in my mouth. I really dont know how many people read this blog as we have been on the number 725 for a reallllly long time. If nothing else, the blog seems to be yet another mode of communication for Fat Old Son with boobs and myself to tell each other stories that we already know. Now isn't that fun! So till the next time its Kudos from me.....Over to you Fat Old Son.

It's the usual

I have no clue why I'm dying to share stuff with people I can't see but I guess I'm just lonely and cold. Lonely because a lot of absentees at work and cold because the security just refuses to reduce the aircon blast that is constantly flowing over my afro.

One of the absentees is Elegantly Stoned. His love affair with my company is over and done with and he left seeking greener pasturs. Sniff! I'm sad. But it's good for him. All my weird dreams of drowning my company & the senior executives in a marshland full of poop have been shattered to a point where I can't dream these kinda dreams ever!

Like one of ES's famous lines that state the fuckin' obvious "It was great while it lasted!". It indeed was. He was accepted straightaway into the funky bunch. And they didn't know what they were in for when he was invite to join us for a trip to Kolad. Oh! I forgot to mention the 'Kolad' trip in the previous posts. It's an adventure camp run by an ex-serviceman who decided enough was enough and set up an adventure camp 140 kms away from Mumbai. So ES and me go absoultely balistic out there. Start drinkin in the car itself at 6 in the morning and finished 2 more bottles by the end of the day. The j's were flowing from 'The AJ factory of Rollin'. The rest is history. Extremely vague but history. We left a lot of people from the gang awe-struck espesially this girl who thought she was in tune with an addicts mind, she thought she can read people like us and predict our very next move but its was all 'ha ha' on her. What fun! The pics from this camp are on display on flikr.com. Get in touch with me to become my contact if anyone wants to see them. I'm called dazed n' confused there. Please! Please be my contact. I'm beggin' you guys.

Alright that's enough. I have just managed to tarnish my self respect again. So I'll get back to being myself. This is a meaningless post but not a meaningless blog. I guess it's time to get the herga girls to spice things up here. "What next?" asks my evil twin that resides somewhere between my conscience and my brains, "Paint it pink? share recipies? baby pics? mother-in-law stories? I can go on" Alright! Alright! My apologies to my fellow members and my evil twin, I shall not do any of that sort. This idea will be erased permanently from my head.

So why am I writing this anyways? Yeah! now I get it. I just wanted to inform our readers that ES has got his tattoo touched up recently and I'll be getting mine finshed on Saturday. I'm putting up the Before and After Pics. More like the Before pics for now. Havn't really got a pic of his 'After'.

ES Before



You guys have already seen mine I'm sure. Once again just a reminder I'll publish more pics later. So, until I get cold or lonely or feel like communicating with the world again. You guys have a good time! See ya!

Personal DNA Test

Yes, its true. The man has finally got his machine. It's an oppulent silver colored Bullet Electra, in an impeccable condition. It goes without saying; it is a joyous occasion for all the S.C.O.F.F members and fanfare (please tell me we have some).


It was a Sunday morning and over coffee, Fat Old Son unveils his mega scheme of how he got about buying his bike. It's then when i come to know that he hasnt informed his parents (not surprised!), hasnt consulted anyone (not surprised!) and is going to take a loan for the same (Aah! Not surprised at all!). The nigger has outdone himself this time–yet again. However, for now we shall just concentrate on the thunderous machine rather than judge his sanity and ability to go bungee jumping without the rope. Well thats Fat Old Son for you.


However the bike's a beauty, and I say this after testing it myself. Once we were done with accessory shopping it was time for a fitting celebration. We headed to Poptates downed a few funky tequillas and beers whilst throwing occasional, affectionate glances at the bike parked across the street. As the evening commenced, the feeling of another member in the family was now slowly beginning to sink in. Talks of long journeys exploring the farthest depths of earth, had already begun. With the setting sun, we concluded our session, not coz the sun was setting, but coz if we drank anymore Fat Old Son would have to pawn the bullet to pay the bill...and i wouldnt be surprised if he had done that too. Thus came an end to a day where the prophecy of the coming of the bike finally came true. Halleluiah!

SWEN!! !!NEWS

July has been very eventful for members of S.C.O.F.F. ezpecially the last week or so. First of all I'd like to inform our readers that starting from the 1st of August, Eleganlty Stoned and I will be working in the same firm. Yeah, I know this spells DOOM for the firm but what the hell, our friendship has done worse things for others. It's the begining of a new end (for the firm that is).

In other news, two of our friends from the glory days are a step closer to being bound in holy matrimony. S.C.O.F.F. wishes them all the very best and an extremely successful life ahead.

Incase you guys didn't know this as yet, then I'll confirm it once again. Miracle Monger is a cunt, the biggest prick on the face of the earth. He has been in Dubai for a freakin' long time now and he still hasn't bothered getting in touch. Talk about good friends. I sent him a gentle reminder and then a mail in a ALL CAPS, venting my frustration but to no avail. Anyways he is in for the good ol' ass kickin that we are infamous for.

And last but not the least, I bought myself a Royal Enfeld. The babes a 2002 model, Electra 4s. I also got a tattoo to comemrate the occasion and also because I've always wanted one. Pics follow, but first few testimonials on the bike.

Elegantly Stoned: "She's kick ass. Raw Power. Let's call her 'baby'."

(Yeah, now she is known as baby. But please feel free to let me know what I should call her)

Rajiv, a colleague of mine has these words to say, "Yessir! We teased her on our way home last night. You know what happens when you tease 350cc of raw power. All that power welled up in her and was crying to be expended. So we did just that. Pushed the throttle almost halfway to the firewall. Now, that is saying a lot. And then there were those thank you ma’ams (any number of them actually), which for the most part AJ negotiated with the prowess of a hell’s angel. Those flaming potholes! (Some of them big enough to craters!). Owww!!! Man! I thought I dropped a bullock because I went numb in that region for sometime."

(Phew! that was really long. Know I know why people hire assistants.)

Phil: "It’s a mean machine…"

The rest of the gang was simply speechless. Ha ha..I have that effects on people. Also I hope I proved all those doubters back in college wrong. Well thats a different, here are the first few pics shot on Shanz cam:

That's me on Baby

Like I said, she's an Electra 4s

And yeah, this is the tattoo I got on Saturday!

Let me know what you guys think! and incase anyone wants a custom made tattoo please do let me know. The dude, called Savio, is a real talent!

Chalo more later. Things are definately looking bright as Elegantly Stoned will be joining me in screwing up work tomorrow. Bye for now!

Latest on the lizard king

for seven years,

i dwelt in the loose palace of exile

playing strange games with the girls of the island

now, i have come againto the land of the fair, and the strong, and the wise

brothers and sisters of the pale forest

children of night

who among you will run with the hunt?

now night arives with her purple legion

Retire now to your tents and to your dreams

Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth

I want to be ready'

These are the words I found myself humming as I woke up in the morning. After the usual early morning duties, I watched the news flash across the TV: A new theory as to how Jim died. Now theres this Paris nightclub manager who says that Jim died actually of an herion overdose and not of an alcohol induced heart attack. The strange part is that when he died, there was no autopsy conducted and there was no fanfare involved in his burial. Whats stranger is that, in whatever little information I have read, is that Jim wasn't a huge fan of herion, nor did he like Pam doing it. But what the hell, he died. He's dead now. And that's the saddest part. So why don't we just let him and his stories rest in peace. No one's bothered now, least of all me. I'm glad that he graced us with his presence and showed us a diferent way. But knowing the kinda guy Jim must have been theres never going to be 'the end'. The end of all the speculation. I'm not sure if he'd want that. So lets have a good time. He's no more, his voice, thoughts, and poetry still linger on.

Because the Lizard told me to….

Let’s go to the moon, honey
Let’s go on a ride
Let’s then make the horses stop and
Walk in the starry sky.

Let me play the fool.
Show you how to fly.
You try to tell me something funny,
I’ll try and make you cry.

Let’s now chain the visionary.
Let’s lock him in a sty.
Let him see there is no way out,
Until he learns to lie.

Let’s listen to the raindrops.
Pitter patter on the window.
I was to be the next big thing
But I missed my own first show.

Let’s dance to the blaring silence.
Let’s get into the groove.
Let’s then play a melody,
And let nobody move.

Let’s go to the moon, sugar
Let’s go for a drive.
Let’s stop to taste the sunshine,
For a little while.

You don’t look so fine now lady
You don’t look so bright.
Climb onto the spinning wheel,
That should soothe your mind.

Let me make you love me.
Let me make you mine.
You can now confide in me.
Then hear me say goodbye.

Let’s all go our separate ways now.
Let’s get off this high.
Listen to what the lizard’s sayingLet’s lay down and die.

Miracle Monger's tribute to the real Lizard King. I can be accused of not uploading a few of his poems. Now I'm making up for it. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Who reads this blog anyways! It's dead most of the time

Willy Got Married! The week that was!

Yeah! Willy got married…I’m sure that’s news…but anyways we had a teeny weeny bachelors party on Thursday, 1st Feb…it was a great party-cum-reunion if u come to think of it…K-lo, Sannu, Baba (it was at his place- a spare flat that he has), doggy, herman n me...and yeah not forgettin wily's B-I-L were the ones who were there at the start….we were joined by Gokhale, Amar Reddy(ex-MITian, now professor cum designer of a Boeing/Airbus wing...this part is unconfirmed news, knowing undis and their ability to brag), kiss-a-whore (I just love the name that I gave him back in the hostel…I’m sure he loathes me for that…and its Kishore for people who don't know) and a friend of gokhale's called abhishek…then we invited Kela and Funky Naren to join us…Funky got along a good quantity of tukdi's…we also tried calling a host of other people but they conviniently ignored our pleas to join in...ohh…I forgot to mention vivian’s dad...no BF...no, no, uncle was there too…alright! he actually is her BF but what the hell...they do look like father and daughter when they are together (and this is not my view point it is a generalized notion) and to my delight Gands was to come later on…his flight delayed by 2 - 4 hours...i curse these low budget-freak show airliners that have sprung up thanks to the provisions made by the aviation industry...not the best things to happen even though they are an inexpensive option.
The evening started of well…Vat 69, Teachers and then a Blednder’s pide were being gulped by the minute...it was like none of us had seen booze for a long time...another thing was that it was a free-for-all...everybody was trying to make sure they get their fill, get high, sloshed etc before it gets over. In the mean time K-lo(who seems to have given up on booze and ciggies…basically looks like he has given up on life), Sannu & Clement decided to take my sardonic remarks that there were no strippers seriously and they disappeared for about 2 hours only to reappear with 3 hookers in tow…but there was a major fuck up here...they were the ugliest women anyone could lay their eyes on…I mean, if I ever was to fulfill my cross dressing fantasies, i'd look a thousand times better...anyways there they were dancing away while Herman was cheerfully egging them on…so were kiss-a-whore and reddy…even though they’ve had their fill in the states….they cudn keep their eyes off these women…mayb they don’t make them women so good lookin in undi-land…willy shook and grooved with the whores to the tunes of some shitty hindi music (sub standard songs if u ask me…Himesh et al...but then I’m sure no one would want to dance for floyd or doors there…)Baba in all this commotion was more paranoid than psyched….i guess this was because of the fact that it was his house that we were in…after an hour o so we bid good bye to the whores…doggy frantically chasing them away while clicking snaps of them leaving (he wanted some proof to show Vivian…just incase she changed her mind after seeing the photos) oh yeah! I forgot to mention that doggy got pissed at me at the start of the night and was almost in tears…because from all the people assembled there I was only picking on him…blabering shit according to him…but I couldn't help it man…knowing how excited I get seeing him, knowing how much joy I get in fucking his happiness…and after the booze goes down is even harder to keep quiet…but then the pariah showed his true colors after a couple of drinks and returned to his normal self...which was much better 'coz I couldn't see tears in his eyes...sob...I'm getting sensitive with age...sob!! Gands finally arrived with much fan fare and without ado we broke open the last of the Vat 69...which people had hidden from me (& the rest)...finally...yeah finally after many j's and a bladder that was about to burst, around 4 in the morning we said our farewells and I left for home.
I wasn't with these people for the roce and the wedding as I was the best man for my cousins wedding that was held on the same day as willy’s…herman will give u more details incase he does bother writing…anyways from the details that he gave me…the MC (a.k.a King Edward…yeah that’s what he called himself) called the gang of 15 or so present single and lonely guys…Yes! he called my friends single and lonely guys...ahh! what on earth made him call them that??? Actually it was an apt title when you don’t want any of the women there to give our desperate friends a second glance…I thank my stars I wasn't around...anyways…also according to herman…we proved that we are better hooligans than English football fans because they gave Sannu birthday bumps infront of all gathered while chanting Mighty Mighty MIT (For those who came in late: Mighty Mighty MIT is the college chant that was used at every game that MIT played, everytime we got drunk and needed to show our roots and/or everytime we met a KMCite)…man what sorry losers…Loo was the surprise package at the marriage...he came all the way from dubai just for the occasion and was invited to open the champagne…for which baba accompanied...fuck knows why but I too haven't figured out what goes on in that humungous head of his.
The next day(Sunday) was more fun as I went to baba's place to meet gands...i was joined by loo and doggy and was served beer by dom’s ever generous dad…I actually wanted to finish off the left over Vat but who's complaining...I wonder if he is still open to adopting us…anyways while we were there loo spilled the beans and gave us the first hand account of how *ahem* acted like a $&#*^…creating a huge ‘darrar’ between him…his girl of that time..and willy…man that was a gripping story…I immideatly erased it from my memory and started making fun of doggy...who thankfully had no tears in his eyes this time...man! some dogs mature really fast...we ended the evening on a good note…wishin willy a good and happy married life…it was a good start for him…not so good for his wife I'm sure...'coz willy was watchin the Australia-New Zealand match in the morning…I wonder if he even....oh! fuck it...anyways till one of us writes again...