The Sadism of Inanimate Objects


The Truant Towel: 10 degrees on a cold winter morning in an unheated house. You bathe under wonderfully hot water and then stretch out your hand to reach for the towel and find that somewhere in the middle of your hot shower it had sneaked off to chat with its girlfriends. You step out of the shower shivering and tiptoe naked around looking for the damn thing to find it draped over a chair in your bedroom sniggering at the goosebumps on your naked thighs.

The Callous Car key:  You are rushing pillar to post with a never ending list of errands and finally come to the end of a nightmarish day – running back to your car to finally head home – already hallucinating about a glass of wine only to find that after 7 minutes of rummaging through your bag – NO CAR KEYS. After 13 min of frantic searching inside the building you just exited – you find it – comfortably letting it all hang out INSIDE the car. I swear – one time – the damn thing raised its keychain and waved at me from inside the car.

The Petulant Pen: The pen that will keep appearing within arms reach every single time you move your gaze around but go scuttling and hide under a chair the moment you get an important call and have to take down an important message involving a series of numbers which you will not remember otherwise. Oh and sometimes – you do find it right by your right hand when you need it – except this time – it will be constipated and it won’t write.

The Homicidal Heel : The heel of your favorite pair of shoes which will let you parade all about the house when you try it on with multiple outfits without so much as a squeak and then make a break for it in a wedding reception when you decide to make a spectacle of yourself in the middle of a dance floor.

The Flatulent Flat Tyre: The one that will hold all its gas until you are in the middle of the wilderness and then let it all out in one massive odorless fart leaving you stranded on a dark deserted street and a mobile phone with no reception.  So now you are hobbling down NH76  like a one legged pirate flagging down lifts because not only you have a flat – you also locked yourself out of your own stupid car.

The Mobile Manure: When you park carefully by the side of the road and then step out right into freshly baked cow dung which you could swear wasn’t there 1 sec ago. And it will be open sandals. Always. Open. Sandals.

Sometimes they all conspire together. The heel and the key and the tyre. They hold meetings in the dead of the night. Like they are part of a resistance movement. They wait for you to settle into bed with a good book on a hot summer night and then go trip the circuit so that they can plot their next move in peace.

And that is when the most vicious object of them all – strikes.

Under cover of darkness – the corner of the bed tends to grow in the manner of Pinocchio’s nose. And on cue I will get up to check on that tripped circuit and my shin – oh my shin – will contact that effing edge of the bed – and I kid you not – I can hear the bed guffaw – the keys yell ‘bullseye’ while the towel and the pen hi five each other.

It is a cruel world out there.




370b303e1460d2691d353ec28f613396.jpgSo apparently just like you are asked to rate your Ola/Uber drivers..they are expected to rate you too.

The desire to be liked is so strong that I found myself shamelessly peering over my driver’s shoulder to see what rating had he given me and I must admit feeling very relieved to have gotten a five star rating. He probably gave that to everybody but the whole episode got me thinking – How many people are rating me ?

My grocer? My gardner? My hairstylist?

What do they write in the additional comments ?

Talks too little.

Does not receive phone calls.

Does not dress Indian enough.

Loves Methi (Fenugreek). Hates Pumpkin.

 Gets too impatient when late.

Wrinkles up her nose if the cab smells stale.

(Actually I also look closely at the cushioning – ONCE I FOUND BLOOD STAINS  which got my head caught up in a tornado imagining dead rotting bodies in the boot and what not)

Anyway I digress.

I imagine all the star ratings and comments going into a giant database that tells you a little something about a billion people.

In the future you could look for partners like you look for hotels. Log in to (I checked – the domain name is available) and type in your requirement. Add the number of minimum stars four or five. Select criteria like patience. Generosity. Loves kissing in the backseat of a car. And press search.

And you have your perfect match.

Not choosing people solely on their profile pictures and their self commentary but actual ratings by actual people that they deal with every day of their lives.

You could choose someone based on your mutual love for cinema hall popcorn or karela as reported by the vegetable vendor on the app. Or computer games as reported by the techie guy.

If someone is good to the taxi driver I bet there is a high likelihood of him being an overall nice person.

I know one thing though. I am not letting my auxiliary staff get onto that app whenever that is made. I’d be in negative within three minutes.

On the bright side  – everyone would try to be their brightest sweetest best everywhere they go in the hope of a good rating.

National Threesome Day


Over the years it has become increasingly apparent that Independence Day is a day of formalities,reiterations and make believe. And we have all learned to continue the farce of patriotism while stabbing our fellow nationals in the back in the self righteous name of religion, caste and food habits. Yet I am at the end of the day an idealist and still continue to hope for the best which every new decade promises.

So instead of delving deep into our Indian inadequacies I prefer these days to focus on the quirks.

Because the quirks – oh the quirks –  they define us.

They are not only highly entertaining but wonderfully stupid making us almost lovably psychotic.

Have you ever noticed (at least it holds true in the city I live in)that all through the year the average motorbike capacity is 1 or 2 people ( or at the most maybe a kid )seated sanely heads down? The head down position is mainly to avoid eye contact with the police since the rider is mostly helmetless. Unless the helmet is being carried by the pillion – in which case the rider is proudly riding chin up and the pillion slips the helmet on and off at every traffic light.

But I digress.

Suddenly on 15th Aug (and on 26th January) the rules of the average 2 wheeler capacity change. Independence day is suddenly a day when 3 guys are on a bike.

Like the day implies independence in all forms.

No judgements to be passed.

Explore the limits of your fantasies.

And apparently the fantasies of adult Indian men include unnecessary flag waving, yelling like maniacs, whistling, littering but most important of all – RIDING THREESOME.

2 boys can’t be friends on National Threesome day.

It has to be an odd number.

3 or 5 or 7.

Thus ensuring 1 out of every 2 or 3 bikes you will see is laden with 3 men. Yesterday I actually counted 40 such combinations. I kid you not.

And you are welcome. I do my bit for the country. Taking surveys of madness is also a service before anyone objects to my pastime.

The excitement in their voices. The glee in their eyes. The glow on their faces.

I tell you – 1 day patriotism does more for their complexion than all the ‘Fair and Lovely’ creams in the world.

Patriotism is like a drug with all the high and absolutely no dependence whatsoever.

You can indulge in it on 1 or 2 days of the year and float blissfully through the rest of the year without a freaking care in the world even if the country is falling apart.

And it is Free.



No wonder they play the National Anthem at every cinema hall. It does pep up our mood thus making sure people get through third degree torture like When Harry met Sejal without killing strangling the person beside them.

In fact if cinema hall owners have a house full movie or trains/flights are overbooked and they want to accommodate more people I suggest they play the national anthem 3 or 4 times and distribute the national flag.

The patriotism might motivate people to sit 3 in a seat in a patriotic threesome.

Happy Threesome Day everyone.